So it has been a while since I last updated this bad boy. It’s strange living without a consistent source of internet. I realize that I am definitely behind in world news (how’s that oil spill going?) and have gravely taken for granted the instant gratification of Wikipedia knowledge, alas! Anyways let me fill ye all in on the past week and a halfish (while I eat a little bag of golden raisins—only 25 rupees! That’s about 50 cents American, suckas!).
Last weekend the group went to Yamunotri—a temple devoted to the goddess Yamuna, daughter of the sun and the origin of the Yamuna River, the second holiest river in India behind the Ganges. What was supposed to be about a 6 hour cab ride turned into 10 hours—India time, rather than being infuriating, reminds me of my own inability to be punctual and thus it would be hypocritical to slander it too harshly. The drive was on the windiest of winding 2 lane roads hugging the steep Himalayan mountain sides with often nothing more than a few boulders painted with big white circles with a red center—warning of the perilous fall that awaited your car, should you be so unfortunate to ignore their gentle guidance—between you and the hundreds of feet down to the Yamuna.
The drive was not as terrifying as I like to make it sound (though one cab did crash into a building while one of the cab drivers tried to close one of the back doors while in transit). It was superbly gorgeous driving through the Himalayas and everything is becoming all shades of green thanks to the Monsoon rains. Nearly every hill is covered in terraces and pocked with small groupings of farming villages. Many roadside signs boasted of World Bank funding—something I’d like to find out more about, like how exactly they good ol’ World Bank is helping? If only I had taken a Globalization class or had access to Wikipedia. There were a couple of visible mudslides too, which looked devastating even from where our point of view was far below.
When we finally arrived to Janki Chatti, the last town before the trek to Yamunotri, we had the best chai I’ve had thus far in India and took a little walk around. It was a paradoxical place. Sherpas playing music on their cell phones. Families living in small structures of tin roofs and dirt floors gathered around T.V.s and cooking their dinners over open flames and earthen ovens. We began the 6 kilometer trek the next morning around 7. What I had assumed would be a hike through brush and forest turned out to be a completely paved path all the way to the temple (because Yamunotri is one of the most holy Hindu sites it obviously has to be accessible year round, regardless of weather conditions). It was still a good trek as it was almost entirely up hill and covered in horse excrement from the horses that carry up devout Hindus who are too old and not healthy enough to do the actual walk. In addition to horses there are also people that are hired to carry the unwell up the hill too! One contraption is like a lounge chair made of bamboo that 4 men carry on their shoulders. The other is simply a large wicker basket that one man carries on his back—with a person in it! And that’s how he makes his living! I was amazed.
When we reached the temple (after about an hour and a halfish?) we entered these natural hot springs at the entrance of the temple. There were separate baths for men and women. The men’s bath was on top out in the open air with the women’s directly underneath it. The women’s bath was intensely steamy, dark and cavernous (additionally, the walls were painted pink. Structural analogy much??). It was glorious to be submerged in a body of hot water after weeks of taking buckets (shower heads are rare, or don’t work when they exist. And there’s no hot water where I am currently staying, yikes). The Indian women in the baths were really friendly and laughing and welcoming! After the dip we went up to the temple and gave puja and received red dots in the middle of our foreheads. After that I realized how grossly ignorant I am to Hinduism—I still don’t know what the red dot means, another time Wikipedia would be AMAZING to have at my disposal.
That night we had an amazing dinner of roti and veggies and rice pudding with golden raisins! The food at Janki Chatti was definitely the best I’ve had during my time in India thus far. After dinner we took another walk and the sky was bursting with stars! Over the ridge of the nearest hill we could spy the milky way floating atop the indigo blue of the night and the streets were washed in an orangey-yellow light from the sparse street lamps and the air was fresh smelling with rain but also a bit pungent with horse shit and the burning embers from earthen ovens and it was maybe one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever experienced.
So that was Yamunotri. We returned to Mussoorie that night and had class the next morning at 8! We’re already in chapter 11 of this Hindi text book and it is seriously remarkable how much we’ve learned over the past two and a half weeks. We know the alphabet, how to count to 30, have a pretty large vocabulary, know how to address people formally and informally how to intensify transitive and intransitive verbs, etc! We’re by no means fluent but can definitely barter and chat with locals now. The proficiency learned in a week was quite helpful when…..
Just this past weekend we went to Rishikesh, the yoga capitol of ze world! We took taxis right after school (1600 rupees one way, which ended up being 400 rupees a person, which is about 8 dollars a person for a 3 hour cab ride). Some other groups took the bus which was only 30 rupees, but given that our group of 5 was all girls we decided to eschew any unnecessary sexual harassment/gawking/discomfort that an unfamiliar bus ride might entail (at least for this particular sojourn). Anyways, we got in around 6 and checked into the Shri Sant Seva Ashram right on the Ganges, just east of the Luxman Jhula Bridge. Our room had a balcony overlooking the Ganges and air conditioning—YES. The next morning we woke up for a 730 beginners Hatha yoga class at the ashram. While it was relaxing, I really wanted to do some intense warrior yoga. Alas, with such a short time there and nothing to guide us but the Lonely Planet it was not found that weekend. After the yoga folly we went to lunch at a place called Chotiwala, recommended by one of our teachers at the language school. It was kind of like the McDonalds of India in the fact that it was fastish food and it had this weird little mascot: picture a small fat blue man wearing a sarong, totally bald except for a sprig of hair sticking up from the back of his head like a tail or one spike in a Mohawk (called a Choti), and the rest of his dome covered in artistic, multicolored swirls and shapes.
After lunch we did some shopping, got caught in a monsoon downpour and then went to a religious ceremony on the Ganges (I say it was Buddhist because they were chanting about the Dali Lama while others in our party say it was Hindu because it was performed before a huge statue of Shiva sitting in the Ganges, but I digress). The entire ceremony (maybe about an hour and a half long?) was basically a musical performance by the gurus-in-training wearing banana yellow kurtas (long, male shirts) and salwars (pants). Midway through the ceremony an old women dressed in all orange began leading the chants as well. The music was absolutely hypnotizing. Musical accompaniment=tabla drums, accordion and little finger cymbals.
The next day Nina, 2 other girls from our program and I decided to find some waterfalls that the Lonely Planet boasted was a mere 15 minute walk from town. It was more like 40 minutes down the road plus a tiny 10 minute hike, but the relief of standing under a waterfall after walking in the stifling, humid heat was well worth it. And of course we submerged ourselves fully clothed as per Indian propriety. There were some local guys at the waterfall that we talked to a little bit in Hindi and followed us back to town and of course made unsultry remarks to us because being a white woman in this country basically makes you a well-known whore merely by the color of your skin. But we’re all dealing.
It was also strange being white in Rishikesh because as it is a tourist attraction, being white makes you another one of the town’s attractions. It is RIDICULOUS how many pictures were taken of us—with or without our permission. I would go on but I need to do my Hindi homework and this is already the longest post in the world.
PS: Leave me your address so I can send you a postcard or somethannnnnn!
xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Shabash!
I am sitting in a lil internet cafe right now in Landour, a town that is basically part of Mussoorie. Mussoorie is a gorgeous mountain town nestled in the foothills of the Himalayas and a vacation destination for scores of Delhiites escaping the toxic burn of summer in the city (could I write a travel guide or WHAT?).
We left Delhi on Saturday at 7 am and didn’t arrive to our lodgings until 7pm. Our estimated 8 hour bus ride took 12 hours due to 2 major traffic jams and a flat tire, but it was an enjoyable ride nonetheless. We stopped at a rest stop half way through the ride that was the must beautiful rest stop I’ve ever seen. In addition to the fast foodish walk-in restaurant adjacent to the parking lot and Indian style bathrooms (no TP, it’s crazy here!), there was a huge garden to roam around and foliage everywhere! It was fun making friends with the people in other buses and trucks that were stuck in the traffic jam too! And the trucks used to transport goods here are SO COOL. They aren’t 18-wheeler, probably something Uhaul-ish sized but they’re all painted these vibrant reds and oranges with intricate decals on the windows and paintings of birds and cows and flowers on the sides.
Our buses stopped at the foot of the hill because the roads were too narrow to drive us up to our hotel (it’s not really a hotel but I’ll say that for lack of a better term—it’s more like a collection of cottages around a big house where we have our meals). Little did we know we were literally in for the rides of our lives. Our driver flew up the hill in an old Ambassador (such a fantastic car: we’re talking bench seats and a frame of curved edges), passing traffic on curves and honking liberally.
We decompressed from the journey on Sunday and out first day of school was Monday! 4 hours of Hindi Monday-Friday for the next 4 weeks! INTENSE. It’s going really well so far. The alphabet (Devangari I believe) is composed of 51 letters and each vowel after a consonant makes a new sound, which makes a new slightly variated symbol, which means we’re learning somewhere around 200ish symbols. The sentence structure is totally different from English too, particularly post positions. Instead of saying “The pen is on the table” we say “the pen table on is.” It’s really exciting finally being able to decipher signs and greet people more appropriately. Also, "Shabash" is how you say good job in Hindi so whenever we are able to make a coherent sentence or pronunciation of a new letter we hear "Shaaabaaash!" It's really confidence building.
Anyways I am still in this little cafe and I am trying to eat dinner soon as it is nearly 7 pm so I shall retire with but one anecdote:
So where I am staying there are trees and monkeys everywhere. Two mornings ago people were eating outside and a girl left her plate on this table about 5 feet away from the group and this big Langur monkey straight up stole her cheese toast. Then he perched on a bench and stared at us while he ate it. Hilarious.
PS: Tomorrow the group leaves to go on an epic hike to check out Yamunotri Temple (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yamunotri). Really stoked!
We left Delhi on Saturday at 7 am and didn’t arrive to our lodgings until 7pm. Our estimated 8 hour bus ride took 12 hours due to 2 major traffic jams and a flat tire, but it was an enjoyable ride nonetheless. We stopped at a rest stop half way through the ride that was the must beautiful rest stop I’ve ever seen. In addition to the fast foodish walk-in restaurant adjacent to the parking lot and Indian style bathrooms (no TP, it’s crazy here!), there was a huge garden to roam around and foliage everywhere! It was fun making friends with the people in other buses and trucks that were stuck in the traffic jam too! And the trucks used to transport goods here are SO COOL. They aren’t 18-wheeler, probably something Uhaul-ish sized but they’re all painted these vibrant reds and oranges with intricate decals on the windows and paintings of birds and cows and flowers on the sides.
Our buses stopped at the foot of the hill because the roads were too narrow to drive us up to our hotel (it’s not really a hotel but I’ll say that for lack of a better term—it’s more like a collection of cottages around a big house where we have our meals). Little did we know we were literally in for the rides of our lives. Our driver flew up the hill in an old Ambassador (such a fantastic car: we’re talking bench seats and a frame of curved edges), passing traffic on curves and honking liberally.
We decompressed from the journey on Sunday and out first day of school was Monday! 4 hours of Hindi Monday-Friday for the next 4 weeks! INTENSE. It’s going really well so far. The alphabet (Devangari I believe) is composed of 51 letters and each vowel after a consonant makes a new sound, which makes a new slightly variated symbol, which means we’re learning somewhere around 200ish symbols. The sentence structure is totally different from English too, particularly post positions. Instead of saying “The pen is on the table” we say “the pen table on is.” It’s really exciting finally being able to decipher signs and greet people more appropriately. Also, "Shabash" is how you say good job in Hindi so whenever we are able to make a coherent sentence or pronunciation of a new letter we hear "Shaaabaaash!" It's really confidence building.
Anyways I am still in this little cafe and I am trying to eat dinner soon as it is nearly 7 pm so I shall retire with but one anecdote:
So where I am staying there are trees and monkeys everywhere. Two mornings ago people were eating outside and a girl left her plate on this table about 5 feet away from the group and this big Langur monkey straight up stole her cheese toast. Then he perched on a bench and stared at us while he ate it. Hilarious.
PS: Tomorrow the group leaves to go on an epic hike to check out Yamunotri Temple (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yamunotri). Really stoked!
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Same to same
This place is mad beautiful. From the bulbous oversized ants that explode from the cracks in the sidewalks made of multi-colored brick tiles to the first rain in Delhi in what must have been months, this city is breathing with beauty, despite the forever yellow-grey skies choked by smog.
I forgot to pack my camera, obviously. I'm really not that dissapointed--it's hilarious that I forgot something so vital and I feel like I am more able to drink in the people and ants and saris and rickshaws and open urinals on the sides of roads and street dogs matted with dirt and mountains of mangoes with my eyes unadultered by a lens. Also, there is a girl here that literally takes pictures of everything so as soon as I can get my hands on her visual stash I will try to post them up here.
It's 140 am here. My sleep schedule just went haywire. For the past few days I have been going to sleep at relatively normal hours, waking at 730 for breakfast provided by the YWCA Guest House where we are currently staying, and avoiding nap time in order to adventure. However, today I slept on and off from 230 pm to now, sadly missing a big Caribbean themed party that my new Delhi friends told me about! C'est la vie! A couple of us went to a bar/lounge last night and it was really interesting to see how the sexes interacted. In India the girls and guys dance together instead of on eachother--the only contact dancing was done by obvious couples. I am really excited to make friends with some Indian girls once we go to university and really pick their brains on the gender roles here.
Yesterday Nina (Berkeley bff), Kristen (the photographer from UC Santa Cruz), Marley (also from UCSC) and I embarked on an epic adventure to check out the Red Fort--what used to be the walled palace of the Mughal Emperor Shahjahan, built in the 17th century. We took the metro--yessss Delhi has a metro system and it is amazing. It cost 12 rupees to go about 4 stops--about 24 cents in US $. I am really excited to learn more about the metro as it is still in the process of being built in the south end of the city (Delhi is way more huge and sprawling than I anticipated, but learning to navigate it is incredibly rewarding as nothing is on a grid!) We got lost a couple times by misjudging how far away metro stops are from one another and kind of having no idea where we were once we stepped outside the station. When we finally got to the correct stop we walked by the Delhi train station terminal which was POPPIN. That place is a huge transportation hub for people all over India.
The walk down to the Red Fort was littered with these open street urinals for men and of course no facilities for the ladies (what is up with thaaaat!?). After wandering for a while in the hot, dusty roads of Old Delhi we find a girl around our age and Kristen asks her for directions and she leads us to the red fort— I am soooo grateful for the legit directions we receive from people (I have a policy of trying to only ask girls, they're more helpful than the guys here most of the time) because in the city a lot of people will walk you to some shop that they get kickback from for bringing in white tourists.
The Red Fort was gorgeous, but we were so exhausted we just plopped down on the grass in the center of the palatial compound and recharged. This group of Indians—2 girls and a guy about 2 or 3 years younger than us kept waving at us from their spot on the grass and we waved them to come join us. The girl Seema was super chatty but couldn’t speak English that well but asked us what our favorite food was and favorite actors and the like in her broken English and we responded with the little to no Hindi we had. Thus far I can count to ten (ek do teen charr paunch che sot ot now daas), ask how much something is (kitna he), where something is (kahaa he), what is your name (dom hara nam kyaa he), my name is (mira nam kelly he), and (aur) and my limited repertoire of Bollywood knowledge. She was wearing an orange mismatched salwar kameez (a dress that goes down to mid-thigh(ish) and covers the shoulders paired with a pair of loose pants) and a purple striped head covering. I was wearing orange leggings and an orange Punjabi salwar kameez top (no sleeves) and my maroon Afghani scarf. Basically we were twinsies. When we realized this glorious matching she said “same to same!” and when she asked Kristen what her favorite food was and Kristen responded mango she said “same to same!” The interaction with Seema and her friends rejuvenated all of us after our long day of being lost and sometimes being purposely misled. Any notions of frustration evaporated as we realized how welcoming some of the people here are and that some kind of friendship was formed despite huge language barriers. I am SO EXCITED to learn Hindi. SO EXCITED.
Anyways this post is long and doesn't even touch the tip of the iceberg! I'll try to post more regularly but we don't have a consistent internet source just yet. On Saturday morning we leave for Mussoorie--a former colonial British hill station (army outpost) in the foothills of the Himalayas to take intensive Hindi classes for a month. Soooo ready to go on some beautiful hikes and visit Rishikesh--a holy Hindu site and where the Beatles did some yoga and even composed some songs for the White Album. Neat!
I forgot to pack my camera, obviously. I'm really not that dissapointed--it's hilarious that I forgot something so vital and I feel like I am more able to drink in the people and ants and saris and rickshaws and open urinals on the sides of roads and street dogs matted with dirt and mountains of mangoes with my eyes unadultered by a lens. Also, there is a girl here that literally takes pictures of everything so as soon as I can get my hands on her visual stash I will try to post them up here.
It's 140 am here. My sleep schedule just went haywire. For the past few days I have been going to sleep at relatively normal hours, waking at 730 for breakfast provided by the YWCA Guest House where we are currently staying, and avoiding nap time in order to adventure. However, today I slept on and off from 230 pm to now, sadly missing a big Caribbean themed party that my new Delhi friends told me about! C'est la vie! A couple of us went to a bar/lounge last night and it was really interesting to see how the sexes interacted. In India the girls and guys dance together instead of on eachother--the only contact dancing was done by obvious couples. I am really excited to make friends with some Indian girls once we go to university and really pick their brains on the gender roles here.
Yesterday Nina (Berkeley bff), Kristen (the photographer from UC Santa Cruz), Marley (also from UCSC) and I embarked on an epic adventure to check out the Red Fort--what used to be the walled palace of the Mughal Emperor Shahjahan, built in the 17th century. We took the metro--yessss Delhi has a metro system and it is amazing. It cost 12 rupees to go about 4 stops--about 24 cents in US $. I am really excited to learn more about the metro as it is still in the process of being built in the south end of the city (Delhi is way more huge and sprawling than I anticipated, but learning to navigate it is incredibly rewarding as nothing is on a grid!) We got lost a couple times by misjudging how far away metro stops are from one another and kind of having no idea where we were once we stepped outside the station. When we finally got to the correct stop we walked by the Delhi train station terminal which was POPPIN. That place is a huge transportation hub for people all over India.
The walk down to the Red Fort was littered with these open street urinals for men and of course no facilities for the ladies (what is up with thaaaat!?). After wandering for a while in the hot, dusty roads of Old Delhi we find a girl around our age and Kristen asks her for directions and she leads us to the red fort— I am soooo grateful for the legit directions we receive from people (I have a policy of trying to only ask girls, they're more helpful than the guys here most of the time) because in the city a lot of people will walk you to some shop that they get kickback from for bringing in white tourists.
The Red Fort was gorgeous, but we were so exhausted we just plopped down on the grass in the center of the palatial compound and recharged. This group of Indians—2 girls and a guy about 2 or 3 years younger than us kept waving at us from their spot on the grass and we waved them to come join us. The girl Seema was super chatty but couldn’t speak English that well but asked us what our favorite food was and favorite actors and the like in her broken English and we responded with the little to no Hindi we had. Thus far I can count to ten (ek do teen charr paunch che sot ot now daas), ask how much something is (kitna he), where something is (kahaa he), what is your name (dom hara nam kyaa he), my name is (mira nam kelly he), and (aur) and my limited repertoire of Bollywood knowledge. She was wearing an orange mismatched salwar kameez (a dress that goes down to mid-thigh(ish) and covers the shoulders paired with a pair of loose pants) and a purple striped head covering. I was wearing orange leggings and an orange Punjabi salwar kameez top (no sleeves) and my maroon Afghani scarf. Basically we were twinsies. When we realized this glorious matching she said “same to same!” and when she asked Kristen what her favorite food was and Kristen responded mango she said “same to same!” The interaction with Seema and her friends rejuvenated all of us after our long day of being lost and sometimes being purposely misled. Any notions of frustration evaporated as we realized how welcoming some of the people here are and that some kind of friendship was formed despite huge language barriers. I am SO EXCITED to learn Hindi. SO EXCITED.
Anyways this post is long and doesn't even touch the tip of the iceberg! I'll try to post more regularly but we don't have a consistent internet source just yet. On Saturday morning we leave for Mussoorie--a former colonial British hill station (army outpost) in the foothills of the Himalayas to take intensive Hindi classes for a month. Soooo ready to go on some beautiful hikes and visit Rishikesh--a holy Hindu site and where the Beatles did some yoga and even composed some songs for the White Album. Neat!
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Speak Softly, Work Gently
After a full day spent flying over the pacific and prodding the questionable delicacies of China Airlines, I am in Delhi! The first leg of the flight from San Francisco to Taipei was a breeze of 13 hours spent dozing and befriending the adorable woman from Hong Kong sitting next to me, whose name happened to be Kelly! Upon arriving in Taipei all of the UC students participating in the India study abroad program converged and met each other--there were about 20 of us on the group flight and there are 42 all together representing every campus except Merced and Riverside. On the flight from Taipei to Delhi (a mere 6 hours), I got deep into Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts which is SO GOOD. Read it.
We touched down in Delhi around noon Sunday--1130pm Saturday Cali time. The heat was palatable as soon as we stepped off of the plane into the tube that connected us to the Indian International Airport. It was 97 degrees Fahrenheit--I have yet to learn the Celsius conversion (being American is ridiculous), cooler than the 110 we had expected from the past week's weather stats. Army officers strapped with AKs patrolled the customs lines; they were not many in number and the threat of force seemed to be more perfunctory than intimidating.
We met our program director Viji at the gate and were loaded onto a charter bus equipped with air conditioning--a huge bragging right in this city. Driving from the airport to the YWCA guest house was a trip. Everything is under construction. Roads to and from the airport, the airport itself, shops, sidewalks, national pride. EVERYTHING. It's due to the Commonwealth Games that are happening in September--an event that I had not even considered the implications of, but I digress. On the ride I learned how to count to ten in Hindi, but not how to curse which I think will be a valuable aid in navigating the streets of Delhi in the future. We arrived at the YWCA and shacked up 3 to a room--WITH AIR CONDITIONING. After a lunch of rice, roti and various curries at the YWCA a few of us schlepped out to the streets where we passed through some 3 outdoor markets and were accosted by infinite wallahs of goods ranging from head massagers to pencils to men's briefs to roasted corn. The pencil-wallah was an adorable boy, probably around 9 or 10, who was such a sweet talker it was ridiculous. But I didn't buy a pencil. I don't really know how to handle the beggar situation here. it's an issue I'll have to tackle in the days to come.
Tomorrow I look for an apartment and get an Indian cell phone. More latezzzz!
PS: I am ridic jet lagged so I promise these will be more hilarious as I return to my natural self/get over the fact that blogs are ffff weird.
We touched down in Delhi around noon Sunday--1130pm Saturday Cali time. The heat was palatable as soon as we stepped off of the plane into the tube that connected us to the Indian International Airport. It was 97 degrees Fahrenheit--I have yet to learn the Celsius conversion (being American is ridiculous), cooler than the 110 we had expected from the past week's weather stats. Army officers strapped with AKs patrolled the customs lines; they were not many in number and the threat of force seemed to be more perfunctory than intimidating.
We met our program director Viji at the gate and were loaded onto a charter bus equipped with air conditioning--a huge bragging right in this city. Driving from the airport to the YWCA guest house was a trip. Everything is under construction. Roads to and from the airport, the airport itself, shops, sidewalks, national pride. EVERYTHING. It's due to the Commonwealth Games that are happening in September--an event that I had not even considered the implications of, but I digress. On the ride I learned how to count to ten in Hindi, but not how to curse which I think will be a valuable aid in navigating the streets of Delhi in the future. We arrived at the YWCA and shacked up 3 to a room--WITH AIR CONDITIONING. After a lunch of rice, roti and various curries at the YWCA a few of us schlepped out to the streets where we passed through some 3 outdoor markets and were accosted by infinite wallahs of goods ranging from head massagers to pencils to men's briefs to roasted corn. The pencil-wallah was an adorable boy, probably around 9 or 10, who was such a sweet talker it was ridiculous. But I didn't buy a pencil. I don't really know how to handle the beggar situation here. it's an issue I'll have to tackle in the days to come.
Tomorrow I look for an apartment and get an Indian cell phone. More latezzzz!
PS: I am ridic jet lagged so I promise these will be more hilarious as I return to my natural self/get over the fact that blogs are ffff weird.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
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