Friends Old and New

Tuesday January 29 10:51 pm

Yesterday was my one-month anniversary of being in India. This would not be a big deal, but as of yesterday I can eat non-boiled dairy products. In just twice this time I can THINK about eating street food.  It was a big day.

Another thing that goes along with being in India for about a month is all the travelers you met and became close to leave, and a whole fresh group come.  Today Rita and Jeremy, the Newton teachers went back stateside, and Prianka, the half Indian half America is about to head back to school. Cora, the German masters student has headed to the Kumbu Mela for a month and the group of people who were studying at the music school are leaving one by one. Others have also come and gone, and the familiar faces I am used to seeing around Assi, my neighborhood, are no longer there.

Straight Chilling in the Gunga.
My legs have reached Muksha

But don’t worry; new friends are coming to replace those faces. The other study aboard group in Varanasi, Alliance, has finally arrived and two of them, Devin from New Orleans and Karen from Philly, moved into the house I am living in.  Karen is a nice Jewish girl who went to Ramah Poconos her whole life, and therefore knows all the Ramah Wisconsin kids. It is nice to have someone around who speaks my language. I have met a few of the other girls on the Alliance program, and because they were all given the same blue shoulder bag you can spot them everywhere they go.

For those of you who were paying attention to the project that was getting to India, Alliance is the program I planned on going on when they told me that my health scared them. After having spent only a couple hours with a few of the girls I am glad that I ended up with the Wisconsin program, for all the Alliance girls are on a “Spiritual journey to find themselves,” whereas the Wisconsin girls are here to do research and learn about a culture. I definitely fit better in the latter group.

Today, while hanging out on the ghats doing my advanced doodling homework I was approached by one of the new arrivals in Varanasi, a French woman who had just returned to India and was moving into the city with her Indian boyfriend. Seeing my sketch book and mistaking my coloring for impressive art, Karen asked to see what I was drawing, and sat down. 2 hours later I know all about her life, the sun had gone down, and she was on the way to the doctor to treat her cough. We didn’t even bother to exchange phone numbers because we know we will see each other around almost daily and it would be pointless.

So the travelers who populated my first month here are gone, but I have new travelers, and the select ex-pats who are here for the long haul to take up my time and entertain me. Also, Mom and Ruth come on Thursday.

Full Discloser:

I though about giving Karen my phone number, but I don’t know it.

Fact:

When you have 1.2 billion people in a country the phone numbers are SUPER LONG, especially when you have to add the country code. 

Things that Never Change

Thursday: Jan 24, 2:37

Things that are the same in India:

My Earring Obsession

I brought four pairs at once. Awkward.

Birthdays:

 On Tuesday night Alex and I were invited to a birthday party at The Cozy Corner, one of the local restaurants. The birthday girl was Rita, the math teacher from Newton, Massachusetts I mentioned a few post back. In the past few weeks I have run into her and her new husband Jeremy quite a few times and we have developed a nice friendship. The birthday party was really cute, with pipe cleaners to play with and a guessing game about Rita. Once again the party was all foreigners, but we spanned the world, from America to Europe to Australia. Some of the people I met there hve been to over 40 countries, all before 40. It was incredible to hear their stories

Jewish Geography:

 One of the women that were at the birthday party was the nanny of a girl who was in my junior year Hebrew class. We figured this out with no more prompting than me saying I was from Chicago. Another one of the girls I have met, a half India/ Half German, Priyanka, almost went to Rochester.

Knowing People Everywhere
In the past week I have solidified my friendships with some of the girls in my program as well as some people I have met elsewhere. The expat community is almost like Rochester, for wherever you go there is always someone you know to kill 15 minutes with. The area where the program house is located and all of the students live, Assi, is popular for ex-pats and there are only a few place to eat that are trustworthy, so there is almost always someone there to chat with. Like in the Pit or at Starbucks when you see someone you know eating alone you automatically invite them to join you, and others may show up and invite themselves. At times small dinners turn into events.


An Illustration: On Monday, Alex and I planned meeting for dinner on the Ghats. I passed a store, where I recognized Tania’s shoes outside, so I stopped in and told her to meet us. We then ran into Finn, a boy from California who is writing a pop science book on the Higgs Boson, who brought along Priyanka. At the restaurant Jeremy walked in, a little early to meet Rita, so we invited him to sit with us, and when she finally showed up we had dinner together.

My Protein Shakes and the Supremacy of Peanut Butter

Every morning I have my protein shake, just like at school, and a spoonful of peanut butter, to substitute for my Cliff Bar.

Peanut butter is a joke in India, because only Americans eat it, but we eat more of it than others would think possible. I met multiple people who live in Tania guesthouse, who said they knew that they lived with Americans based solely on the amount of peanut butter in the kitchen. In the program house last semester they used the amount of peanut butter that they planned for the semester in a month. The Indians were shocked. They still make fun of our tendency to eat peanut butter straight out of the jar.

Kite Flying Festival and More

Fri Jan 18, 9:57 pm.

Nitish and Lucas, the education director's son

Monday was an important Hindu holiday, Maker Sankranti also known as the Kite Flying Festival. On this day it is customary to bathe in the Gunga, eat sesame, and fly kites. In celebration everyone involved with the program boarded a boat, went across the Gunga to the beaches of Ramnigar, and spent the afternoon flying, or attempting to fly kites. Nistish, an Indian twenty something who works for the program, is a master kite flyer, for he has been doing it his entire life. He brought along a few of his childhood friends, and the four Indian men valiantly attempted to teach us white people the art of the kite. You would think that an activity that most Indian five year olds can do would be easy for a bunch of college educated Americans, but you would be so wrong.

In a three-hour period I managed to keep the kite up for about a minute in my longest run. It was kind of sad, but I did do better than almost all of the other girls so I am really quite proud of myself. (Full disclosure: I took over the kite string when it was safely in the air, and had nothing to do with the hard part).  Somehow, a bunch of water buffalo made it across the Gunga, and got in the way, causing chaos among the kite flyers. After a nice afternoon on the beach, all six of us girls went out to a late lunch, and then home for the night.

People bathing in the Gunga

Yesterday Alex and I went with our ancient history teacher to the art museum at the local university (BHU) and spent the afternoon looking at art and sculptures from as recent as the 19^th century, and as old as the 200BC. He took us around, told us about the symbolism in each piece, the stories behind the paintings, and the myths the depicted. In classic Indian style he went over the allotted time by an hour, but it was still a wonderful opportunity. The BHU museum is one of Indian best galleries of ancient art, and though the building itself is humble and a little run down, the artifacts it contained were more than priceless.

Last night I went over to the house of a friend’s that I made last week at the River Ashram for a Mean Girls viewing. There were 10 girls there, and we all felt a kinship because we were white in India, but in reality we were an incredibly diverse group of people. There were four Americas, one Canadian, three Swedish girls, one German, and one half German, half Indian. In America we would never really feel a cultural kinship, but Indian society is one that is so closed to outsiders that anyone not from India is one of your own. Today I met a South Korean couple, and felt as though they were just like me simply because they were from someplace else. The ex-pat community is small, and everyone seems to know everyone else, for once you have been in Varanasi for two weeks you are part of the club. You will never make it into the “Indian Club”, but the white, twenty something one is great as well.

Actors during Filming

This afternoon Alex and I took a walk to the ghats to kill a little time before she had stone carving. We were there for no more then 10 minutes when the German, Cora, who I had briefly met at Mean Girls, showed up. We started talking, and suddenly a huge group of men dressed as Sadues (ascetics) descended down the stairs. Hoping for an opportunity to observe a special Hindu ritual we followed them, but the ritual never began. We stood around for a while chatting when the men started moving. And the police started running after them. And the camera started filming. It turns out these men were not Sadues at all, but actors filming a Bengali TV show.

Actors in the Rain

Cora and I watched them film for about an hour and a half, chatting and enjoying the ghat when an unexpected 10 minute heavy rain began. This was the first rain since the monsoon season (October), and nobody was prepared. It almost never rains this time of year so everyone started running for shelter. Cora lives about a minute away from the ghats, so we ran into her place to hang out for a little while longer. The poor actors were all stuffed under this tiny tarp, cramped and unhappy, for they had not even considered making rain plans. But you know what they say about the best-made plans…

Jessi, Sarah, and Alex just left my house after a low key night of banana grahams in my room, and now I am off to bed.

Fun Facts

•   The Indian perfect woman according to ancient art: Big boobs, big butt, thick thighs, slender waist
•   Indian female policewomen wear army green saris
•   Swedish people love India

Life in the City of Lights

Mon Jan 14 6:26pm

 Saturday was a beautiful day, and I spent the morning in the garden with my host family, reading for class and hanging out. At 3:00 Alex, Danielle, Jessi, Tania, and I went to Godolia, the main shopping district in Varanasi. Because Danielle, Jessi, and Tania have all been in India for a semester already they each had their favorite clothes stores, and wanted to share them with Alex and I. We started out at a suit store, where both of us bought two Indian women’s suits, which consist of fabric for a tunic, pants, and a long scarf. We have to take them to a tailor tomorrow to have the actual clothes made. The patterns on these things are so much fun and every single one is different. I also got my first shawl, which I love.

Life by the Gunga

Tania and Alex  

After the suit store (Danielle and Jessi’s favorite) Tania showed us her favorite place, owned by a man named Rahul. This store was in the back corner of a narrow way in Godolia, and there is no way that I would have found it myself. It was one of the best shops I have ever been to. Rahul and his tailor make all of their own cloths and fabrics, and each item is unique. You cannot find a lot of his stuff anywhere else. Even his kurtas, tunics they sell everywhere, have cooler patters and are better designed. All five of us managed to find something we loved, from vests to Aladdin pants. I got three wall hanging that double as pockets with traditional Indian elephant designs. They are hanging in my room already.

For dinner we went to Brown Bread bakery, a favorite of the expat community (they serve meat) and had a beer and a classical sitar concert. It was great.

The best meal however was lunch on Sunday at the River Ashram. The River Ashram is the subject of Tania’s independent study so she invited us along to see what it was about. It is a Jesus Worship ashram, which focuses on melding eastern methods with western theology. They have meditation every Wednesday, gardening on Friday’s, and lunch every Sunday. Even though it is technically a community based around Jesus, it is really just a group of international hippies trying to find themselves in India.

I was there for three hours and I don’t think anyone even mentioned Jesus, and if they did they would not have cared that I was Jewish one bit. It was an informal lunch on mats in the garden (the only green space in Varanasi outside of BHU) and people from all over the world were just hangining out, chatting about life, their travels, and even some discussion about the importance of ritual vs the importance of faith. I felt like I was back at class with Professor Brooks. There were people from Sweden, Australia, Italy, Germany, Peru, Namibia, and more. Tania said that this week was a relatively small gathering, but I made some friends. We are even having movie night on Thursday. It was really a place where your religion did not matter, your attitude towards life did.  That being said, I will not be going to Jesus mediation on Wednesday, though Alex is considering it.

Source of the Hebrew in Varansi

There is a man who runs a bed sheet store, “The Bed”, who has been working with Israelis since he was 14. He is almost fluent in Hebrew, and can read and write as well. I went into his shop to investigate, and he informed me that even though he had never been to Israel he has upwards of 50 books Hebrew. He told me I could borrow them anytime, like I could ever read a Hebrew novel. He also told me he would love to talk to me about my project comparing Varanasi and Jerusalem.

Mice, Dogs, and (Dali) Lamas

Sun Jan 13 7:15 pm

Wow. It has been a quite an adventure since I last posted. Let's start with the highlights from where I left off.

On Wednesday night, our last night of official orientation, Vidiya Ji took the four girls who were in Varanasi at the time out to dinner at Hotel Diamond, a hotel where foreigners frequent. The food was sub-par, but that did not matter because the program was paying for it. The real fun came halfway through dinner when the mouse appeared. It was this tiny little thing, just chilling on the booth next to us. We were in India, so we did not think much about it. Besides this one was a lot cuter then the dead one I saw in the street today.  However, when it started climbing on Jessie we all lost it. Jessie has a history of animals from the street sharing her bed, including cats, mice, and voles, so of course it went for her. Then in it went to the plate of sugar and fennel (used as mouth freshener) that the waiter tried to serve us. Danielle yelled at them in her almost fluent Hindi, saying the mouse had been in plate, but they just laughed and insisted that the food was fine. Lets just say we all had stinky breaths for the rest of the night.

Thursday brought a once in a lifetime opportunity, for the Dali Lama was teaching in Varanasi. Jessie, Danielle, Alex, and I headed to Saranath (the location of the Buddha’s first teaching under the Bodi Tree). Our rickshaw dropped us off and we assumed that we were close and the teaching would be easy to find. It turns out that we were dropped off almost a mile away and we had to wander around asking for directions for about 45 minutes. We had no idea where we were. We finally got to a resort-looking place that had what we assumed was the Dali Lama over loudspeakers in the trees. But there were no people anywhere. We followed the loud speakers and eventfully found our way to the teaching grounds. However, we came in the back way, completely missed security, no one checked our passports or required papers, and no one questioned out presence in the staff only location.

Lesson: If you want to start an international incident, the Dali Lama’s security is pathetic. If you want to start a security business, stay away from the Buddhists. What do they care about security? They will just be resurrected in another life later.

We found a open place near the back and sat down. Jessie went on the hunt for radios so we could hear the translation and the rest of us just observed. The front two thirds of the section was filled with monks, each of whom been in those seats for almost all of the daylight hours for four days, and were somehow still attentive. The public section has a few monks, a few white faces, and then a random assortment of Tibetan people of all ages and backgrounds. Every few minutes a section of them would get up and perform some sort of ritual that involved standing then bending to the ground a few times. I am sure there was a reason to who and when, but I have no idea what it was. There were kids running around, and people talking while others were intently staring at some sort of scripture book.

The best part was the tea. We had run into some other travelers before we left and they told us that if we brought our own cups than we would get free tea. While the tea itself was really just warm milk mixed with a little masala, the servers were an event in themselves. The men that were serving fell into two groups, but both were carrying the tea in these HUGE metal teapots, almost as large as a standard bucket. One of the groups was young monks, every one of which was absolutely ripped. These guys would sprint with their tea, fill glasses as fast as possible, and then sprint back to refill their pots (Note: I do not say sprint lightly). The second group of servers was young men wearing school uniforms attempting to imitate the monks. They were far less successful. But it was fun to watch them try.

The English translator was not very good, and a little sick. He kept coughing into the microphone and would stop translating for long periods of time. He spoke in a monotone, and it was both hilarious and hard to understand. I did not get much of the teaching, but it was worth the experience nonetheless. Only in India can you happen to glace at a newspaper, see that the Dali Lama is speaking, and go the next day.

Right now I am sitting in my bed at the house I will be living in for the next few months and the dogs are going crazy. These two little things hated me the first day, but now I am almost able to pet them. Watching them eat is the funniest thing. For breakfast they have omelets and toast, for lunch today they had a banana and a sesame seed sweet, and for dinner they had rice. I kid you not; the dogs eat human food and are hand fed by my housemother.

Directions to get from my house to the program house, as given to me on my first day:

• Exit the door, and go right past the knockoff shoe hut. Keep walking past the big tree and the houses in the middle of the street.
• Turn at the goats eating garbage.
• Walk through the alley with temple on your left and a row of beggars on the right
• At the end of the lane take a right by the “Sober Look” sign with the Bollywood actor
• When you the five-way intersection take the one with the red signs. (Note: the one with the red and yellow signs is wrong)
• Keep going until you pass the building with all the billboards, and go between the two buildings opposite it.
• Take a right at the trash pile with the cows. (Stop and watch cows and puppies make friends)
•  Keep walking until you reach the program house. (Take a moment to put away all food, for the monkeys will attack you between the trash pile and the program house.)

Indian Winter

Wed Jan 9, 2013, 1:49 pm.

Right now I am sitting on the porch of the program house trying to catch some sunrays in an attempt to get warm. Though the actual degrees cannot compare to Chicago or Rochester, there is no central heating, or any heating at all, anywhere. Also, every wall is has some sort of hole to the outside, whether it is a window without a pane, a doorframe with only bars, or simply a lack of walls altogether. Imagine never being able to go inside in late October or early November. The air is moist from the river, and the fog is so thick from dust and smoke that you cannot see more than 10 meters front of you. You are not allowed to wear shoes inside buildings, and the floors are all stone or cement, so your feet have no protection other than your socks. The chill starts from your toes and never leaves.

Alex and I have been wearing western clothing for the past three days, and will continue to until the weather gets warmer because the Indian clothes we have simply will not cut it.  Wearing our western clothes would not be a problem, except we don’t have that much, and we need to wear everything we have just to stay warm. Right now I am wearing a tank top, 2 long sleeve shirts, a sweatshirt, a jacket, a scarf, jeans, leggings, and 2 pairs of socks, and I have not been comfortable since I got out of my sleeping bag this morning. The result of this is that we have been showering as little as possible and have been wearing the same clothes since we got to Varanasi. We don’t plan on changing any time soon. But it does not matter because there is so much trash, smoke, and poop that a little BO is barely noticeable.

Today is our second day of classes. Yesterday we had our Indian History class with this great guest professor form the Banarus Hindu University (BHU) Ancient History and Archeology Department. While he did not tell me much I did not already know, he laid a good foundation for the rest of the class. I think I am really going to enjoy it. We had more Hindi with Virendra Ji this morning and later on we will begin our field methods class.

I have chosen a place to live, and will move in with a devout Punjabi family tomorrow. They have to move the furniture in before I can come, so I will spend one more night in Hotel Haifa. Alex is moving today, so it is going to be my first time without her within 10 feet in almost 2 weeks. Its going to be weird, though we are both excited to settle into our new homes. She is living with the family of a retired Sanskrit Professor who is truly adorable.

We have met two of the other program girls, Jessi and Danielle (From Glencoe) and they are both incredibly nice. Danielle just spent the last month traveling through India by herself. I am insanely impressed that she got back alive. They do not start their classes until next week, so they have been helping Alex and I get settled. Jessi came with us to look at the last few houses two days ago, and then shopping for house stuff, such as cleaning supplies and bed sheets. I don’t know what we would have done without her, because there is was no way that I was going to remember to get two buckets for doing laundry or hand soup. The program staff is helpful, but they have been here for so long that they don’t really know what we need and don’t need.

Nitish, the Administrative Assistant

BHU Temple

After the looking at homes and shopping we went to a cute little café by the hotel called Cozy Corner (it only had 10 chairs) and we met a couple of teachers from the states who had taken a year off to travel the world. They were really interesting, and it was fun talking to them. One of them was a middle school math teacher in Newton, so holla’ to my peeps at school. She made me miss you guys.

Yesterday Natish, an administrative assistant and a nice Brahmin boy with a priest father took us to the major temple at BHU. The place was huge, and he took us from place to place, explaining the significance of the every statue and ceremony. This was the stuff he grew up with, and was able to just rattle off every myth about every god. It was so interesting and I love it. It was after this that I made my last minute decision to live with the Punjabi family even though I was supposed to move in someplace else today. The family celebrates every holiday and ritual there is to celebrate, and I cannot wait to join them tomorrow. You hear horror stories about homestays, but in India you hear horror stories about everything so hopefully it will all go well.

I have to head off to field ethics in a few minutes, so I hope you all are doing well at home, and that the semester starts off bright.

Fun Facts

•  It is considered normal to drink 10 cups of Chaii a day
•  Monkeys are scary.
•   Monsoon winds change directions with the seasons because the difference in temperature between the land and the sea changes, so the pressure difference changes, and diffusion happens. This means chemistry works.
• India has 17 national languages
•  Most bike rickshaw drivers are high all of the time

Here is a joke:

Q: What do you call someone who can speak three languages?

            A: Trilingual

Q: What do you call someone who can speak two languages?

            A: Bilingual

Q: What do you call someone who can speak one language?

            A:  An American

Traveling. Oy Yey

Sun Jan 6

View from the Gunga River

When I last wrote we were on the way to a train we would take to Varanasi. We were almost late for the train, and were rushing to get to the station with time for the slow moving Indians to get on the train when we get a call from the program administrative assistant, Sunder Ji. The train is already delayed by 7 hours, and will not be leaving until 3:AM at the earliest. (I now know that the train was cancelled in the end.) This is a common occurance in India, and the train that Vidiya Ji, the program director took to meet us took 33 hours instead of the seven it was supposed to. We made a last minute choice to skip the train, go to a hotel, and fly in the morning. After going through another bout of arguing with the driver we headed back to the YWCA Delhi, checked in at 8pm, and were out the door before 7 am.  Miraculously, we got out on time, and to the airport with time to spare. It was good that we had that extra time, because the lines were long, the Indians move slowly, and Virindra Ji, the Hindi teacher tried to bring both a pocket knife and a water bottle through security. I don’t know how we would have dealt with the amount of his confusion and disorganization throughout the whole trip if his daughter had not been travelling with us.

Cremation ceremonies on the Gunga

The flight took off time, was relatively uneventful. We made it to Varanasi around noon and Sunder Ji and Nitish Ji, who both work for the program, met us. They had marigold leis with them, and we had to put them on the minute we left the airport. I am not quite sure the significance, but it has something to do with brides and welcoming.

We checked into our hotel (Hotel Haifa specializing in vegetarian middle eastern, who knew that was possible?), had lunch and a quick nap, and at 4:00 we headed out into Varanasi. We started at the Gunga/ Ganges river, the most holy of rivers, and took a boat ride along the shore just taking in the ghats (the banks of the river). The fog was so thick that a lot of the color and details did not come through, and I would not call the dirty and dusty place beautiful, but it was a taste of the semester to come. We even saw 15 cremations going on at once by the part of the Gunga River that is used for the ceremonies. I am sure I will learn more about that later. Fun fact: the boat we were in was actually built by a student of the program a few years back who took carpentry as his tutorial/elective. It was pretty impressive.

Ghats of the Gunga River

Next we went to look at a slew of guesthouses that we can choose to stay in for the next few months. They all we of similar set-ups, but they were all had their unique qualities and personalities. One had a beautiful rooftop patio, while another would allow you to witness sunrises and sunsets over the Gunga. The next was not the best or cleanest space, and there are dogs, but the family was very devout, and it would give me a chance to experience Hindi ritual in an authentic way. The final one was not a good living situation, but the couple who lived there was amazing. The man is an incredible artists, photographer, poet, and Hindi language expert. They are traditional southern Indians, and every morning they take time out of their day to create folk art. Though neither Alex nor I are going to take their room, we spent the longest time with them, being wowed again and again by this man’s skill and imagination. It was only my utter exhaustion that made us finally leave.

It has been SOOOO cold here, and Alex and I, though more prepared than the Indians, who are running around in socks and sandals, cannot seem get warm. No place is heated because this weather only last for a few weeks, so we are in layers and jackets all of the time. The room we are staying in only provided one light blanket, but I have one of those great sleeping bags that roll up into nothing but are super warm, so I slept in that and Alex attempted to cocoon herself with the blanket.

Right now we are off to the program house for the first time.

 Things that will surprise or shock you the first time in Varanasi:

•     The amount of Hebrew. There is something called “The Bed” which is all around, and there is Hebrew on the signs. I also saw some sort of Hebrew Center, but I was not able to investigate.
• The stylish nature of socks and sandals. They even make special socks so that you can wear them with flip-flops.
• Tibetan monk in full costume with a Sperry backpack and a earphones on a passenger flight.
• The utter lack of winter clothes.
• The amount of poop. In the middle of the road. From the cows. From the dogs. From the goats. From the buffalos.
•  The trash.
• Did I mention the poop?

Indian Medieval Times

Sat Jan 5: 2:30pm

Last night, after a long day of Hindi class and shopping, (I got shoes and an amazing handmade leather purse) we headed out for dinner. Alex and I did not think much about it because that is approximately what we have done every day since we got to India, but last night’s dinner was something else.

We ended up in a place called Chokhi Dhani that I can only describe as an Indian medieval times. We started with dinner, where we were ate sitting on floor and were served by men in traditional Rajasthani costume: a red kurta, white Aladdin pants, and a colorful turban. While we made the choice not to eat the fresh food or dairy products, the rest of the food was great, though incredibly spicy as usual. After dinner we got our shoes back on and went to explore the grounds, where there was entertainment and activities all over the place. Alex, Vidya Ji, and I all got henna on our hands and we saw a balancing act, animals, and dancing. We even saw a magic show, which was still incredibly funny regardless of the language barrier. We thought he was going to be snake charmer, but there has been a major movement in India to stop snake charming, so we got pigeons instead.

 The movement was started a few years back by an Australian reptile hunter who began an education campaign to end the removal of the teeth of the snakes who perform. Removing the poisonous teeth of the snakes is a necessary step to for snake charmers, but it greatly reduces the life span of the snake, so animal rights advocates have protested, and most legitimate business have stopped offering it as an entertainment option. Don’t worry about the snake charmers though; the government hires them to catch deadly snakes who have made their way into areas populated by humans.

Right now we are on a seven-hour car ride from Jaipur to Delhi, where we will catch an eleven hour train to Varanasi. The driver is a butthead and not a particularly good driver, so it is a little tense. 

http://www.chokhidhani.com/home.html

Orientation

Friday Jan 4 8:29

The past few days have been wonderful, though less exciting than before. Alex and I spend our mornings in Hindi class with just our teacher, Virendra Ji, and us. He is a small old man with almost 50 years of teaching experience, and the only way I know how to describe him is like an ewok from Star Wars, the small bears with spears. He is short and fat, talks with his mouth full, and almost falls asleep in class.  The nasal nature of Hindi makes the whole thing laughable. For four hours a day we learn, and learn some more, then we eat out meals with him, so we learn more after that. He told us on the first day that we would be learning about 24 words a day, but when we counted after day 1 we were expected to know 80. That’s what happens in a two-person class.

Alex, Virindra Ji, Vidiya Ji, and Me in Virindra Ji's nephews restaurant

Virindra Ji also comes from the most accomplished family I have ever met. He has a daughter teaching Hindi in Varanasi, and one teaching at Cornell, and one at Stanford. His brothers export Christmas decorations to Crate and Barrel, he has a nephew who runs one of Jaipur’s most popular and posh restaurants, and another nephew who won a Mr. World modeling competition. It is pretty overwhelming. For dinner two nights ago we went to his nephews restaurant, and had the most amazing meal, as well as met a whole slew of relatives. This was a restaurant you would easily see in the States, complete with a bar and a disco (we went on a Wednesday so it was not open).

Two days ago we had our first field ethics class, where we went to a local temple, and spent some time observing the crowds, coming up with some sample questions that we could use for our independent study. While the class was not exactly eye opening it was nice to just see normal Indian going about their normal Indian business, as opposed to heading to a tourist sight.

We have Hindi again in a about half an hour, and I have words to learn, so this is it for now.

Single most heard phrase by an American in India:

• ·      One photo? Please, one photo?

Isarlot, Wind Palace, Obervatory, and Shopping

Wed Jan 2, 7am

Exploring Jaipur:

We had new years day off from official programming, so Alex and I took the opportunity to do some exploring in Jaipur’s Old City. We started the day bright and early, studying Hindi in the sunlight for we were not meeting for breakfast until 10, and neither of us are quite over jetlag. When we were done we had a half hour before Vidiya Ji was expecting us so we decided to walk around the area surrounding the hotel.

View of Jaipur from the Isarlat Tower

This short excursion was our first time on foot in the city. It was both terrifying and incredibly interesting. Everyone wanted to interact with us, even if it just was a smile or a happy new year. We were not in a part of town where tourists hang out, so people were extra suprised to see us. There were shops and hotels, people just standing the in streets, people going through garbage looking for scrap metal, and a ton of kids flying kites. It seemed to be their favorite past time. And a TON of garbage.

As we were heading back to our hotel there were two girls no older than 14 walking right behind us. They were staring and whispering Hindi, clearly talking about us, so Alex turned around and with a big smile used what little Hindi we know to ask them their names. The broke out laughing, and we had a short interaction that made all of our days. I have a feeling these girls will never forget that moment.

Bike Rikshaw

After breakfast we went out to head over to the Wind Palace. It was relatively close, so we decided to try a bicycle rickshaw, which is kind of like an adult sized version of those little children carriers that you can attach to your bike so the kids can just ride along. We ended up with this amazing driver, an older man who knew 6 languages and all about the city, We asked to the Wind Palace, but when we were halfway there he turns around and backtracks. We have no idea what was going on, but a few minutes later we were at the bottom of a pre-colonial tower, the Isarlat Tower, with the best view of the city. It is a place the tourists normally miss. The driver told us to go up, and he would wait, so up we went. The stairs up were halfway between stairs and a ramp, making it incredibly easy to climb the 7 stories. A few minutes and a few pictures later we were back downstairs and in the rickshaw to head to the Wind Palace.

Stairs in the Isarlat

The Wind Palace was incredible structure full of intricate paintings and stained glass, as well as hidden compartments, and more miniature doors then reasonable. We had a great time exploring the place, then headed over by foot to the Observatory, a pre-colonial enclosure what held all of the contraptions that people used to map the sky before any modern technology. The tools were enormous and they were accurate to something like a 1/30 of a degree. Any engineer or physicist needs to make it to this place. It was incredible.

Exterior of Wind Palace

At the observatory we called our director and she told us to meet her at a restaurant 20 min walk away. Because she was still at the hotel and one of the slowest moving people I have ever met we decided to walk. We got ourselves lost a few time, but through asking directions we were able to get ourselves there. However, walking was a whole adventure in itself. The streets were beyond terrifying, and every time we walked anywhere I felt as though we were grandmother in Mulan trusting her lucky bug to make it across safely. But we did, and the biggest danger we were in was not from the people in vehicles, but the cow’s horns under a narrow bridge. Birds a shopkeeper was shooing attacked us, at one point. It was awesome.

Bird on on the streets

We finally got to the restaurant, and even though we had both walked for only a half hour we were exhausted from all of the stimulation. However, we were justly rewarded with a feast from the cities most popular restaurant, LMB. After lunch we headed into the bazaars to shop. We had an eccentric shopping list, including, notebooks, shampoo, adaptors, and, of course, clothes.  With Vidiya Ji’s help we were able to get all it, and Alex and I both got three kutras (long tunics), and pair of leggings, and one long scarf to go with them. Even Vidiya Ji got a new kurta, and today we are all wearing our new clothes.

One place we went for scarves made the mistake of asking for 500 rupees for a single scarf. I have never seen Vidiya Ji get so mad. They started yelling at each other,  (she told us later that they were promising her a percentage of the profits, thinking she was a tour guide) and Vidiya Ji stormed out. The man came running after us bringing the scarf down to 150 rupees, but we did not take it. We found another shop that started at 150 rupees, and we gave them a lot of business.

We headed back to the hotel beyond exhausted, I was asleep by 10pm.

Fun Facts:

• Cows have horns
• Everything is backwards in India: light switches, door hinges, hot and cold faucets, and of course the driving. (India was colonized by the British)
• The dogs in India are like the cats in Israel. They are everywhere, sick, hurt, and hungry. You cannot spay or neuter one, so a female dog is almost never a house pet for the obvious reason.