Ta Ta!

I don't have too much to report- which is good and bad. I am finally settling into a routine here. Over the past month (yes, I have been here a whole month!), I have been bouncing from place to place doing all sorts of things and now that madness is calming. Every morning, I wake up at nine and go to the O at 9:30 (times vary according to the driver's personal schedule), hang out with the infants and big kids, mostly, until 2:30 when we eat lunch. Around 2, I usually put the baby I am holding into his/her scarf or into a sister's hands and head to the kitchen to watch them cook the delicious South Indian dishes they serve to us every day. The kitchen is a concrete shack with a thatched roof. It's all open, so there are flies everywhere, but I have gotten over that. The stove is a pile of bricks that Ranjith balances a metal bowl over. Underneath are burning logs. On this stove he (or the oldest boy) makes all sorts of delish chutneys, dosai, idli, stews, and rice. I learned yesterday that the South Indian dietary staple is rice and the North Indian diet includes more wheat. Everything here is made with rice or rice flour. It is possible (unlike in the U.S.) to have many many options without eating a speck of wheat! So, at 2:30 we are enjoying an awesome lunch served on a banana leaf. This is the traditional way to eat an Indian meal and I learned that it provides health benefits (?). I think it is just easy- there are tons of banana trees with TONS of leaves. It is more ecological and economical than paper plates and very fun. Although I question the washing method: at a restaurant or anywhere where the meal is served on a banana leaf, it is customary to sprinkle water over it with the right hand then rub it all over the leaf. This is for washing it, but all the dirt that was on the leaf is now on the eating hand! Just don't question it...

The other day, one of the babies was playing with my toes (not so hygenic, I know, but what at the orphanage is?) so I moved it closer to her and Mala, the sister in charge of the infants, gasped and said, "no sister!" I pulled my foot away and she put her hands above her head and said, "baby is God" and nothing more. I guess that sums up the Indian view of the baby. Although it provides to logical explanation as to why they are neglected and left to sleep in their own poo for extended periods of time.

The weather is hot, hot, hot! I had a funny conversation with one of the older girls who said her favorite month is November because it is cool. As it turns out, November isn't much different from September, according to Ranjith. Cool? Far from it.
I signed up for a two-day workshop on Pranic healing this weekend. It is yoga that involves opening energy passageways called chakras so I can control energy flow into my body and heal others by doing so. It sounds odd, I know, but one of the other girls did it and loved it. Plus, it is about time I did some yoga. I am in the heartland of it all! Enjoy the Fall!

Lessons Learned

I have learned two important lessons in the past few days which will serve me very well in future days in India. The first is to always be assertive. This really means saying, "no!" with an strong tone even when you think you could be nice about it. Example A: When you host is about to place a fourth helping of rice on your banana leaf. You want to be polite and say "no, thank you, but it was very delicious." Cut the niceness. Say the magic word and put your hand over your leaf so he or she cannot place any more on it without dumping the stuff onto you. This also works for dealing with rickshaw drivers. Example B: When your rickshaw driver pulls over for gas and begs for "rupees for petrol," do not give in! I was asked for 200 rupees when the total was around fifty. I didn't give any- it's better that way. Just say, "no!" and stick to your guns.
The second lesson I learned was to never fill up on the first round of food at a restaurant. When someone orders for the table, it means a lot is coming. I always make the mistake of filling up on the first course because there is usually so much I couldn't imagine any more coming. Wrong! I went out to a late dinner with six others a few nights ago. One guy prdered for everyone and there was a Thanksgiving feast at this casual Chettinad restaurant. Chettinad is a form of cooking that relies heavily on spicy non-veg. I like it! Anyway, I was enjoying biryani, chicken tikka, idlis, chutney, sambar, curry, vegetable stew, and two meat stews, when more came! I had to try to force down chapati and tandoor chicken on top of everything else. That is also a prime example of being assertive in saying, "no!" Indians hate food going to waste, so anything left on the table when everyone is finished will be forced into the mouths of those who don't eat it often. Unfortunately, I am one of those victims. Luckily, I am not curried out. I could still go for Indian three meals a day for the next week maybe, then I would need a break.
Last night I discovered an amazing cafe on the fancy shopping street. It is mostly outdoor (don't know what they do when it rains). The seats range from beds to low-slung chairs, to Moroccan-style booths with fancy pillows, to high wooden stools. I was by myself and only needed a pick-me-up. The menu is huge! They've got everything from Starbucks-style coffee drinks to Kit Kat milkshakes to tapas to paninis to- get this- pancakes!!! I think I may try them tomorrow morning. For a dollar, it is hard to resist trying all the Western breakfast items they have. It is so relaxed, yet so trendy, with a rectangle pond and stream running through the middle. There is even a small shop in a hut that sells jewelry and shirts. I love it and could go back every day to try somehting new. I'm guessing it is best at night because they have fancy colorful lights which double as mosquito repellant. The place is fabulously cheap- part of the appeal!

Other than that discovery, I haven't been up to much. I have been going to the O and hanging with the kids, so much so that I have lice, yet again. Sarah and Katrina did, as well. They thought they didn't all along, but they must have had it for a long time because each of their heads was majorly infested! I don't think I had too many, but now my lice shampoo will have to become a weekly thing to keep them at bay.

I am taking tomorrow off to catch up on some sleep (last night I got sick...ugh) and hit up the spa where I can get an hour-long massage for about the price of a jar of peanut butter at the local international grocery store. What a comparison, huh?

The Third World?

I have had a couple of great meals in the past few days, the first was this sizzling browny sundae from the nearby veg restaurant. We sat on the AC floor. Most bigger places have two floors. One is non-AC and one is AC-enhanced with a more expensive, if not different, menu. I was still a bit hungry from lunch (shocking, I know) so I opted for the most American thing on the menu, this sundae. It came on a hot plate. The waiter warned me of this, but I figured it was just a hot plate, not an actual hot plate. That makes no sense. You know when you go to a Mexican restaurant and the fajitas come out sizzling away on a black pan? That is what this was served on. The browny was seared and the ice cream was balancing on top. He poured the chocolate sauce over it and then I couldn't really see what was going on with the concoction because my eyes were filled with steam. The chocolate that dripped onto the plate steamed and bubbled, as did some of the ice cream. It turned syrupy and thick and made for a delicious dinner! The browny was really just thin chocolate cake. I am so craving a fudge brownie from a Betty Crocker mix right now. I'll just have to wait a few months for one of those, I guess. For now, I'll have another gulab jamun.

Today I went for lunch at Benjarong, a fancy Thai place I read about in the Lonely Planet guide. It was awesome. For around $5.50, I had a 5-course lunch complete with tea, ginger soda, drinkable water, spinach leaf wraps, shrimp soup, chicken (yes, meat!) satay, papaya salad, green chicken curry, fish with spicy basil sauce, and coconut pumpkin custard for dessert. It was awesome and I was waited on hand and foot. I was writing down everything I was eating and I was there right when it opened, so I think they might have thought I was reviewing it. They kept having side conversations before anyone would come to the table. Or I could be totally making that up and they were just making fun of me, which is very likely.

As I promised, I am going to write a bit about what I have seen regarding Chennai's economic status. I don't know if it is considered a third-world country. I heard that term doesn't exists anymore. It is now the developed countries, developing, and lesser-developed countries. Or something like that. I would say India is in the stagnant country phase, if that exists. They pride themselves in being the world's largest Democracy but it isn't bringing any obvious benefits to the economy. I remember studying in Economics (via a John Stossel video) the differences in countries where it was easy to set up a business and where it was impossible. India is definitely more of the latter. The red tape is something even Indians, who take themselves very seriously (I'm serious), can laugh about. It is horrible and constricting. In asking about adoption in general at the orphanage, Ranjith just brushes it off because adoption even by wealthy Indian families, is nearly impossible. It takes major bribing and major connections. It is even more difficult for foreigners to adopt Indians. It is saying the government would prefer the kids live in poor conditions rather than with foreigners. This is just one of the many things that makes no sense about Indian society.

First of all, as I am obviously for equal rights, India is going to have to let go of some of its prejudice against women if it wants to grow. But, that is just a small part of the conservatism of Indian society that may be a hindrance. Don't get me wrong, I have only seen the south. Delhi, Kolkata, Agra, and all other parts of the north could have very different problems. Also, I am no economist (huge shocker), I just have open eyes and am jaded from living in suburban America. These are some prevalent problems I have noticed. I am calling them problems because, again, I am not used to them being the norm: India's time schedule is relaxed, at best. Nothing is ever on time, nor expected to be. Westerners exist to be taken advantage of. Today, my rickshaw driver tried to get me to buy his gas, in addition to the fare. A side note on rickshaws as an example of Indian inefficiencies: The other night at dinner, Sarah, Katrina, and I brainstormed the hilarities of being a rickshaw driver in Chennai and pulling all their silly stunts. We would pull over for five minutes to talk on our cell phones on the side of the road with a passenger waiting in the backseat, we would pull over for a cigarette break with our buddies, we wouldn't take any directions from women passengers, instead we would go out of our way to find and ask another rickshaw driver, even when it turns out the girl was correct, we would demand twice the amount upon arrival, refuse to use the meter, triple the amount for a white person, and best of all, pretend to have no change. Yes, that would be living the high life. Back to the problems: There is a fear of change, especially suggested change from a Westerner. It is insulting to suggest change, like at the orphanage, because it suggests their way of doing things is wrong and our ideas are way better. I have found that Indians (I am making sweeping generalizations when I say Indians, but please note that only means the ones I have come in contact with) are very resistant to change, like in the school and in the orphanage, because they have a set way and because it is their way, it is correct. This is true about Americans, too. I can only imagine what would happen in a business if a foreigner (especially with a different skin color) came and suggested changes to improve "efficiency." Either the place would give him/her the boot or- and this is why America is so wealthy, I think- adopt the changes if they thought it would make the company better. America is so efficient and constantly striving to be more efficient. India is not. And that is just the way of things. Sometimes, when I walk back to the apartment, there are three doormen on duty. There is litter everywhere and it is acceptable to throw trash on the ground. I really don't know why this is, but I have been up early and walking around I will see saree-clad women sweeping the street with bundles of sticks. They aren't doing this for free, that's for sure. But, why people just wouldn't put their trash in a garbage can is beyond me. They are accessible.

I went to Spencer Plaza today. It is the big shopping center in Chennai. Even the rickshaw drivers who don't speak English know Spencer Plaza. Now, I couldn't just walk into a store at any old mall in the U.S.- and I can't really compare the two countries, but I will- and bargain the twenty dollar shirt down to ten. Today, I bought some clothes that were on a rack with a price sign and still got a lower price. This is nice, but probably not healthy. Here, they want any business they can get, so if it means lowering the price, so be it. Walking away, as many of you may know, is the best way to get the price you want. It really does work! So that is the update on the problems I have noticed in hanging out in southern India. Gossip and the issue of "saving face" are also staples of life here, but I'm not sure of any direct impact on the economics of the place due to those things. If any of this seems totally wrong or you have questions/ comments, please speak! Post a comment or e-mail me, I would love to chat about what I have seen around Chennai, Nagercoil, and Kanyakumari. Loooooove that Western efficiency!

You Give an Inch, We Take a Mile

I went to the orphanage today, like I have been doing for the past three days. Here is some info about Balagurukulam Orphanage run by Ranjith (last name?): Every morning, weekends included, we get up and leave the guest house sometime around 9:15. We tell the driver to come at 9:30, so he shows up at 9. This is the opposite of Indian time. More on that concept later. At 9:15 or so we make our way through the morning, I mean daily, traffic in our small blue van sans shock absorbers. I don't really know how to describe the car, but it is shaped like a mini hippie van, I guess. It's boxy. So we get out of the car an hour later, walking a bit funny from the bouncing and our now-sore bums. It is now sometime around 10:15 and the kids who don't go to school are finishing their breakfast of yogurt rice and lemon chutney. About 15 kids go to school everyday. The oldest girl- seventh grade- attends an all-girls school and has to take a bus because it is far. I think the other kids walk to a nearby school. On weekdays, the kids who are left are the millions of pooping toddlers, three infants, and a couple older boys who don't go to school because they help out around the place. The oldest kid there is a 14 year-old boy who doesn't attend school. During the day, he cooks, cleans, builds stuff, and does lots of chores for Ranjith. All the kids call Ranjith "Samji" (spelling?), which is a term of respect for their father. There are 4-5 "sisters" who live there and take care of the kids all day. The title of this entry is representative of their attitude toward us Western volunteers and the general attitude of India towards Western visitors. Today, Sarah (a volunteer from Canada) walked into the main room which houses the toddlers and the sisters passed a bunch of kids to her and left. This was especially bad because there is a diarrhea bug going around, so that yellow goo on their legs is not fun to get a handful of. This is a common occurrence. But, back to the daily schedule.
I wander around for a while, saying hi to everyone. All the kids love to say "good morning, sister!" and do a salute or shake my hand. Calling us "sister" or "acaw" in Tamil is a sign of respect and way easier than remembering our difficult names. The other sisters say good morning by putting their hand to the forehead. We do the same. Then, I usually make my way up to the infant room where I can find three babies "stewing in their own poo" is how we call it. They are wide awake, ready to get out of their scarf hammocks and the diarrhea pile they have been lying in for who knows how long. We clean them off, powder them, then they cry because they are hungry. It takes a while for Mala, the sister in charge of the infants, to get the boiled tap water to mix up the formula. When it finally comes, the kids are so happy. They drink until their stomachs are beach balls. At this point, Mala has left. About a half-hour later, she comes back in, lights incense, dresses the kids, wipes their bums (or has us do it), powders them, then lays out a mat for them on the floor, instead of them lying on a dirty rag. This scurry to look presentable tells us Ranjith is close. A few minutes later, he walks up and checks out the kiddies. He sees Mala holding a happy baby sucking a bottle wearing a clean dress, me with the same, and one other on the mat whose belly I am rubbing. He smiles, coos at them, then leaves. Then, Mala either takes a nap, plays with a toddler (her favorite follows her around), wipes herself off from getting peed/pooped on, or leaves. I (or another volunteer) stay with the kids and feed them more, then wipe them up from the body waste they just excreted, then wipe up ourselves from the same. We take turns hanging out with the little ones. I much prefer to stay with them over the mass of screaming, smelly toddlers in the main room. I also like the bigger kids, but they are usually busy with chores. We hang out, wiping bums, until around 2:00. This is lunchtime, and we go to the atrium area and have a delicious lunch that Ranjith and the oldest boy prepared. It is traditional Indian: rice and a variety of toppings. Usually an Indian lunch consists of rice and sambar, yellow curry stew with vegetables, and some vegetable mixture. Today it was beans and peppers, spiced potatoes, and rice with sambar-like yellow curry. I love it, but it really doesn't fill me up. For the moment, I am very full, but a few hours later, I am scrounging for snacks. I miss protein. After lunch, we do more caring for the babies and playing with the other kids. Today, I took part in a makeshift cricket game with the much-used deflated soccer ball that was very difficult to hit because it is so big compared to a tennis ball. Around 4, the driver comes to pick us up and we pile into the van for an adventuresome ride back home. Driving in India is absolutely crazy, chaotic, and without any discipline. There isn't much swearing out the window or waving of the middle-finger salute, I guess that is all avoided by the sheer thrill of driving up the wrong side of the road. On the road here, it is all about size. Trucks rule, then come the ambassador honkers, then regular cars, rickshaws, motorcycles, and bicycles. We are somewhere in between ambassadors and regular cars. It is thrilling no matter which vehicle you choose, I will assure you. But, pick wisely, for there is no turning back once you are out there. More info to come on the food, textbook reasons for poverty, and the sizzling browny (spelled just like that) sundae I had for dinner last night. Now, I'm off to watch a movie and sleep! I am taking the day off tomorrow, so I will write another entry then. Ciao!

From Shock Absorbers to Leaf-Reading

It is Sunday night. I got to Chennai on Thursday morning. I am going to list the things I have done/learned so far for organization's sake (western concept):
1. I had an interesting conversation with the other two volunteers about the luxury of having shock absorbers on an automobile. Here, they are deemed unnecessary because they cost more. Anytime I am in an automobile, I replay this conversation in my head and pretend I am in a Cadillac.
2. My dreamy thoughts of being in a Cadillac are interrupted when I can't have the window open because it hurts to have air blown on my face. The air is that dirty.
3. Above the computer I am at, there is a picture of an old man with an open palm and yellow light in it. There is a symbol in the light. This picture is kind of distracting.
4. I have learned to love the Gr8 Cafe. It is right around the corner from the internet cafe. For a total of fifty cents, I can have a kiwi smoothie delivered to me at the computer. A cappuccino is 20 cents. Take that, Starbucks!
5. I had a very fancy dinner at a nearby oriental restaurant. For three delicious courses in a white tablecloth restaurant with silverware, my total was $7.50. I can't get over the prices!
6. Indian time is really killing me. Not only am I American, but even in America I like to be on time! Double the trouble.
7. Tamil t.v. is hilarious. Even the serious stuff.

Ok, those were all the small things I wanted to mention, but couldn't put in a paragraph for fear of you thinking I had come down with a severe case of ADD. Yesterday, I didn't go to the orphanage. I went to an astrologer the other girls recommended and had my leaf read. What this means is 30% of the world's population a specific person's present, previous past life (most interesting and supposedly the most valid), and future (also interesting, but probably not valid). The other girls have met some friends from around here, so one of them took me and acted as my translator. Well, I have a leaf and we found it. Sometimes a person can have a leaf, but they don't find it because it is at a different location. If I would have looked for my leaf a year ago, I wouldn't have found it. Here's why: so we went to the place. I gave the reader (who trains for years to be able to do this) two thumbprints and my birthday. No name, nothing else. Just that. He brought back a book of the leaves and began asking me questions. The translator would ask me in English and interpret. He asked things like, "is your father in management?," "Am I Christian?," "do I have a degree?," etc. Vague questions. Then he turned to one and asked if I was born on a Friday, which I didn't know, but it turns out that I am (I checked). Then he read my father's name and my mother's name. No one told him any of this. There is NO way he could've known. That was when I knew he found it. So, he told me about my present, that I am doing social work abroad, I am not currently studying, etc. He told me about my immediate family members (which was true) and my future (it was positive, but I was told to take it with a grain of salt). Then, he told me about my past life. I was born in India, as a matter of fact and no, not everyone is, and did some bad things, ripped people off. Later in my life, I felt bad and gave a lot of money to charities and poor people. Because I did that, I will have a good life this time around. Everyone who has their leaf read has tasks that they can choose to do as follow-up to finding out why they have problems in their present life. I have to go to a few temples and circle a tree for the number of years I have been alive at one, and at another, sprinkle water on my head from three pools at the temple. I also have to provide a meal for the kids at the orphanage and send my leaf away to be blessed and prayed to for 96 days in traditional Pooja form. The guy who interpreted for me suggested this as did the girls who had similar tasks. This Pooja will make my name more powerful. It lost its power after hurricane Katrina when people all over the world cursed the name. One of the other volunteers is named Katrina, so she and I have the Pooja task. It is pricey because I have to pay the priest to do the prayers for the 96 days. Supposedly, it is very powerful, but I am skeptical when the price nears $100. This is the American in me. Anyway, the whole experience was fascinating and I have it all on tape. The reader tapes it all, which is great. If you are ever in Chennai, do this! For 10 bucks, it is so worth it!
Today I went to the orphanage and hung out with the little babies again, and I also played cricket with the big kids after lunch. It was a Sunday, so there were a bunch of Indians there volunteering with their families. There is an awesome Indian tradition that on your birthday, you feed at least the number of people as years you have been alive. Today was the birthday of the son of a man who regularly volunteers on the weekends at the orphanage. Instead of celebrating with the family, they fed the orphans! It was great! The kids got a fabulous lunch. This was the first time I have ever seen them eat and they were shockingly civilized considering their situation. Most of them came frail as a skeleton. I was expecting them to be ravishing and aggressive with their food supply. They were not at all. The Indian way of abundance in food has carried on even here, so the kids never have to worry that there won't be enough for them. The food today was great! It was North Indian and we ate it sitting cross-legged on bamboo mats from banana leaves with our fingers. Totally awesome. It was a good day because all the kids were there. On the weekdays, a lot are at school. Cricket was hilarious and we also played a dodgeball of sorts, which really ended up being the men chucking a deflated soccer ball at one another. At the end of the day, one family wanted to take me home, literally, and feed me. I read somewhere in my customs book about not accepting the first invitation to someone's house because it is usually given very casually. Well, I didn't know if I should trust this until they kept persisting. I guess they saw I was having a lot of fun with their kids, so they invited the other volunteers and I over. Tonight wouldn't work out because I am exhausted, but maybe at the end of the week. It was a good day.
I still have yet t go out for Indian Mexican food. I opted for Chinese last time because we didn't end up going to the Mexican place. More food updates to come!

Back in Chennai

After a strange 15-hour bus ride from Nagercoil to Chennai on a very nice airbus, complete with fake wood paneling floor and movie theater. Well, the whole bus was the theater because the sound on the one t.v. was turned up so loud that the explosions from the hyper-dramaticized Tamil rebel film were blowing up my eardrums, as well as the buildings. At first it was hours of music videos. Then it was ok that it was so loud so everyone around me couldn't hear me laughing. Then when this Armageddon meets the sappiest romance novel of all time (minus any physical contact) came on, I had to ask the driver's assistant to turn it down for fear I would never hear once I stepped off the bus. He did, so I attempted to fall asleep (it was an overnight ride), then learned how Indians feel about personal space at a VERY inopportune time. The girl sitting next to me who must've been around my age was totally lying over the armrest on my sticky skin! Now, I really don't like to touch strangers, let alone have their sticky arm stick to mine (the bus wasn't AC), but the more I moved against the side of the bus (I was at the window), the more she inched in! It was so bad! And, when I turned over and faced the window, she turned too and took up all the space I just freed. It was horrible. But, nine hours later, I was in Chennai.
That day was even stranger than the plane ride. The director from World Endeavors India came to town. He lives in Delhi but decided to pay a visit because some things haven't been working right at the Chennai orphanage placement. There was a very serious, professional meeting where the other volunteers and the director, his intimidating girlfriend, and the local director discussed all sorts of problems and solutions that have come up in past months. After that, we went out to a fabulous 4-course lunch and had a ball! We sat on the AC floor of a great South Indian restaurant in walking distance and the director treated us to a fab meal. Each course was enough for a meal for all seven of us. Actually, after the second round of food, I thought we were done and was getting ready to leave when I saw the waiter come with another huge tray. It was great! When you are in Chennai, you must check this place out: Hotel Saravana Bhavan is an awesome introduction into good South Indian food. I am being an advertisement here, but it's worth it!
Today I went back to the orphanage and may have gotten lice for a second time. It's very likely. I spent most of the time in an upstairs room with little babies. I was peed on twice and thrown up on 6 times. Around 2:00 when we are supposed to eat lunch, I went downstairs to see what was going on and the kids were setting up all these mats in the main room and a guru was sitting there. Turns out, there was a shotgun wedding at the orphanage today. It's an impressive story: The bride and groom are from different castes and fell in love after knowing each other for 3-4 years. The caste system is extremely important in deciding who you will marry, especially because most marriages are arranged. The wife's parents (father in particular) were furious because she is from the higher caste. The bride and groom were planning on pulling a Romeo and Juliet and committing suicide because they couldn't be together. The bride was going to do it this morning. She had the poison ready and everything. Her father beat her this morning because he was so angry about her choice of man and said if she killed herself, he would too. She called Sumathi, the wife of the orphanage director and her good friend, and they set up this wedding just a few hours before it happened. After the interesting ceremony (Hindu wedding), the couple and their witnesses bolted to the government office and because Ranjith, the orphanage director, knew someone in the office, they were registered in just a couple hours (this is almost unheard of). Now the marriage is official, so there is no way the family can change it. The newlyweds are moving to Boston.
Now, I am headed off to Don Pepe, a Mexican restaurant. I'll tell you how that goes, if I'm not bathroom-ridden for the next few days. Peace!

Frustration!!

URGH! I am totally frustrated right now, which I realize should be a normal feeling because I am somewhere totally new and foreign to me. Nonetheless, I am VERY frustrated. So, Hilda's school didn't really work out. I mean there is no way I can get an in- I just can't seem to get a grip on the teaching methods and the kids don't speak enough English for me to teach them a real lesson. Yesterday, I thought I was going to go to the college with Dr. James (the principal of the college) and observe classes in the English department. He told me if I liked it, I could teach spoken English there/ help students who may be struggling with their conversational English. I am all ready to go (I got up more than an hour early just for this) and as he is leaving, he tells me it is exam week and there will be nothing for me to see because there aren't classes going on right now. Classes will resume on the 21st, maybe. He said some departments will have classes and some won't, but he didn't elaborate. So that isn't an option.
I moved into the other house last night and "slept" (lied on) a metal cot with a sheet over it- no mattress or anything. With every turn it would creak so loud I thought I would wake the whole house. By whole house, I mean the small main room and bedroom. My room is more like a storage closet. Anyway, I knew this wasn't going to be a good experience when I saw it for the first time, so today I bought a bus ticket to Chennai. Ok, I hope I bought a bus ticket. I paid for a slip of paper that the lady wrote stuff on. There was a crowd of seven or eight people around me in this dingy little shop that doubles as a booking agency, I guess. No one spoke good English, so I just hope that there really is a bus at that time and it really does go to Chennai. When I get there (at 5 in the morn) I will stay at the guest house and do some volunteering at the orphanage. I don't know how long this will last, so I am currently looking for another opportunity. Who knows, maybe I will end up in Thailand early...?
Yesterday was my last day at Hilda's. This is how it went: the teacher tells me to teach computers because they have their computer exam today. I am getting insanely frustrated because "teaching computers" really mean repeating a sentence like "processing is creating information and data" or "a compact disc holds data" and they repeat it back to me over and over. I realized they have no idea what a computer actually looks like, so I walked home and brought back the old laptop that I brought with me here. They were in awe, as was the teacher, who got up from sitting in the other room, dozing off, to see the screen. After we named all the parts, I had them type their names (which took sooo long! I didn't realize how hard it would be to find the right keys), and I played some music for them. When I played the song, they got very embarrassed and giggled their heads off. The hour and a half lesson consisted of me getting very frustrated with them because I would ask "what is information?" or "What is a printer?" and silence/ blank stares would follow. I was getting frustrated because they stopped caring about the lesson when they realized they didn't understand a word of it. Then, I would ask other questions and the teacher would tell them the answer in Tamil and they would just say that. This is the same when there is an English lesson- if they don't understand, the teacher gives them the answer in Tamil. It is a very strange situation. I am glad I am trying something new.

Socialite Activities

I haven't been to school in three days! Well, there was the weekend which consisted of learning how to tie a saree, attempting to understand speeches given in Tamil at a Lions Club meeting, stuffing my face at a church retreat in the mountains, seeing my first herd of wild monkeys (is is called a herd? A group of...?), and giving my stomach even more trouble at yet another pre-wedding reception. And that was just the weekend!

Here is how it all went down:
Friday: A post-funeral service at the neighbors house: sitting, listening (not comprehending), counting down the minutes until I thought we would eat, more counting, and finally eating...only sweet and savory pastries and biscuits (cookies), followed by a coconut dosa at home.

Saturday: Lazy morning, casual walk to the internet cafe and ready-made shop to pick up pre-purchased sarees/ the custom stitched blouses that go underneath, lunch of idlees and curry (probably too much) at home, reading (new book I started: The Time Traveler's Wife), getting ready to go out, Lions Club meeting at nearby banquest hall. The meeting was actually a seminar on all sorts of things about the club. Dr. James spoke (thank goodness it was in English) about being a leader. He was the only one to actually speak into the microphone. This put major emphasis on what he was saying. This was a seminar for all members of the Nagercoil Lions Club with speakers they brought in from different clubs in the area. Now, looking from the outside you probably wouldn't have known there was any sort of speech-giving going on at all! During the whole thing, cell phones were going off left and right, people were having conversation and kids were running around! It was too humorous! Then, during the last speech- this may have had something to do with the fact that it was a woman speaking- one prominent man sitting on the stage with the 5 other speakers took out his cell phone and called someone! He dialed then spoke with his hand covering his mouth and other hand holding the phone. Then, he played show and tell with the two guys sitting next to him and handed it off to another guy who made a call and did the exact same hand cover! This was all going on while this poor woman was trying to talk to the group about women development in the club. I guess it is obvious what the male feelings about this are. Then, we ate dinner in the upstairs cafeteria where some catering company was serving up vermicilli pancakes, sambhar, and fried chicken (we're not talking KFC here). They were dishing out the food on plates at one end of the room and placing them on a bech in front of their assembly line. It was typical India here when there was MASS chaos in getting food. People pushing and shoving and grabbing at the plates when there was far more food than all the guests could eat. *sigh*
Sunday: Church retreat where Dr. James was a featured speaker in some mountainous place that starts with an "M." We were picked up in a safari jeep, one that could really rough it. After an hour of driving through parts of Nagercoil I have yet to see, including a bustling fruit market, banana farms, and the wetlands, we got to the base of the mountain. From there is was a twisty-turny, super-windy, incredibly steep, but totally worth it ride to the top. We actually stalled out going up the steepest hill- a wee bit scary, I will admit. We drove over one stream and one river that both flow right over the one-lane road. People were bathing in the river, monkeys were having a snack in the trees, and for the first time in a few months, I actually felt cold. Well, cool. It was probably 20 degrees cooler on top of the mountain and with the window of the car open and the wind blowing, it was a pleasant change. Anyway, at the top is a stone house (see pic) owned by the Salvation Army. A small group of people rented it for the night to have a church retreat complete with sing-song prayers to beating drums, guest speakers, and religion jokes. Sounds like a blast. I stayed for the prayers and the snack break (where I tried my first red banana- it is a copper-colored sweeter banana that is twice as fat, a meal in itself!), then got to walk around and soak up the scenery while Dr. James spoke. I wouldn't have understood it anyway. Tamil is harder to pick up than I predicted. The hill country of India is stunningly beautiful. The pictures do it no justice. There is wildlife everywhere, curvy rivers, flat valleys, and gorgeous views! I didn't want to leave. We had to get back because that night we had another pre-wedding reception to attend- Same thing as before but with chicken masala instead of lamb biryani. I wasn't paying attention to what the servers were putting on my plate at dinner and when I looked down, I got sick. It is pretty insulting to not finish everything served to you, so there I was, still with a belly full of rice and veggies from lunch and 2 potato flour pancakes, chicken masala, rice pudding, and chai to consume. I was uncomfortable afterwards, lets say. Lunch was delicious/hilarious when the cook came out and asked me for my autograph on his little note pad. Even with short hair, I am a celeb.
Monday: I am wearing a saree for the first time and I now realize why I was advised against it by the college student I met at last week's family dinner. In learning how to tie it, I kept asking, "does it have to be this tight?" The answer was always yes. Well, here I am, a belly full of all sorts of goodies from the wedding lunch feast. The wedding was a christian one, so there wasn't anything too out of the ordinary going on. I did laugh at the part during the post-ceremony when the flower girls stand with large bowls of petals and pelt the bride and groom with handfuls of them. I don't think the bride or groom made one look of being at all happy during the entire ceremony...is that possible? I think so. They should have been seeing as they are the only ones who get to eat the cake! The wedding cake has three separate tiers. The bottom 2 are fake. The newlyweds slice the top one and feed each other a bite then leave the rest for later. When I heard about the "cutting of the cake," I was filled with magical dreams of fluffy white icing and soft cake eaten with a fork novel concept) on a plate. Sadly no, this was not the case, which means I am going to have to stop at the bakery on the way home to satisfy my current sweet tooth. Let's hope they have something so covered with icing, that it is tooth-cringingly delicious! Reports on this to come. Enjoy the Fall! Eat a caramel apple for me, I miss those.

At Hilda's School

Some current pix

The past few days

Hi, Hi! Last night I attended a pre-wedding reception with Dr. and Mrs. James. It was quite fun. The half hour drive just to get there was incredibly interesting. The entire area seems lit up. At 9 at night every store is open and beckoning potential customers.Of course, people were EVERYWHERE, but what's new? When we got there, I was introduced to so many of the James' friends- I probably couldn't pronounce a single one of their names. We walked up to the stage where the bride stands all night. This takes place in a big banquet hall filled with chairs. The feeding takes place in a barn-sized room off to the side. So the bride stands in her bright red saree dripping with gold jewelry on the stage for hours (she fasts before the wedding, so her family isn't worried about getting her food during this) as everyone who comes gives her their blessings and takes a picture with her. Her poor smile muscles will be dead tomorrow. I stood in the middle of the picture. This caught me off gaurd because I wasn't even expecting to go up on stage. How wrong I was! After the picture, she hands all of us a sweet and we go to the dinner.

In the feeding room, long tables (enough to feed the 300-400 guests) are set with banana leaves, a common plate of choice down south. Each one has a small pile of yogurt/onion sauce, tamarind paste, one pineapple slice, some hot chutney, and a glass of water near it. I barely sat down before waiters were attacking me with lamb biryani, gravy (different from American style), and rice pudding. The dinner was absolutely delicious! Who can resist some good lamb biryani when the time is right? We ate and ate, washed our hand (yes, only the right), and off we went. Of course, before we left, we stopped and a large group of the James' friends talked about me. They know I don't speak Tamil, but I can tell the subject matter when they stop conversation to stare at me after everyone says something. I don't think it wa anything bad because afterwards, two of the ladies had "hand-holding" conversations with me. This is where we talk about my personal life while they hold my hand. Very common.

On a side note, I got my hair cut today. I had to go to the barber shop, because the beauty parlor wouldn't do what I needed. I shaved my head. I had to because I got bad head lice from the one day at the orphanage. I knew when that boy put his hand on my head that something would come of it. I just knew! Well, last night I tried the lice shampoo and it did nothing. When I heard the kids at the orphanage all had lice, I told myself I would jjst shave my head if I got it. Well I did! What the heck, it will all grow back sooner or later, and for now, it is much cooler than a full head of hair. Pictures to come...

Happy Onam!

Not too much ahs been going on since I last wrote. Tuesday was a holiday- a Keralan festival called Onam. It celebrates the coming of the King from some past time. All I saw of it were Hindu temples covered in lights and large flower arrangements on the ground. That night I went to a family get-together at my future host family's cousins' house (I am not yet with my permanent host family because the other volunteer is staying there until next Tuesday). The dinner and conversation were great! I spent most of my time talking with the hilarious grandpa about everything from why the female body wasn't meant to play soccer to the reason there is so much poverty in India (He says it is due to lack of work ethic. I believe this is partly true, but it is also because it is so hard to set up business due to the intensely beaurocratic government.). The dinner was delicious biryani (Indian fried rice with chicken), served with many sauces, and "cutlets," fried beef and potato rounds. This was the first time in over a week I have eaten beef and only the second time I had eaten meat.

For the past few days I have been coming to the internet cafe regularly after school. School is going well, but I have found that the teaching methods are so inefficient compared to what I know. In tutoring the seventh-grade girl in social studies, I was told to repeat the true and false statements then she would do the same. The poor girl ends up memorizing false statements! She would say the sentence written at the back of the chapter, then "true" or "false," depending on whichever it was. This made no sense to me! Today, we did some multiple choice questions in the same manner. The students are in "revision" because they have a one-subject-a-day quarterly exam coming up next Wednesday. Beginning that day, there will be no more teaching for three weeks. What will I do with myself? I have yet to figure tht out. My lonely planet guide will be key in this decision.

Tonight I will attend a pre-wedding reception with my host family. This should be quite exciting and extremely entertaining for me as an outsider. I have never seen an Indian wedding (I will on Monday), nor have I ever taken part in any of the festivities. I hope there is a good dessert table!

And more...

A Few More

Just a few from the beach

Coconut Thwackers and the Like

After the orphanage, I jumped the 5:30 down south. It was the strangest train ride I've ever taken- even more so than the ones with the tourists headed to Chicago who, from their looks alone, couldn't say "I'm from Milwaukee" any louder even if they screamed it. I began the ride laying on my bags. I figured this way nothing could get stolen. After about 12 minutes, this was extremely uncomfortable and I continued to toss and turn until it was lights out. Who would have thought that there would be lights out on an overnight train? I was in sleeper class, so at night, each compartment turned into a triple-high bunk bed. This wasn't too bad and I got some sleep, more than I thought I would. The drive into Nagercoil was quite pretty. There were well-tended farms of grass and mountains in the background. I guess you could call these rocky outbursts mountains. They definitely don't have the regal shape of Vail or the Swiss Alps, but some were fairly tall. Their silhouette would look something like this: close your eyes and with your non- dominant hand draw one hill, then another beside it, then another beside that one. You have just created these exact mountains. I have pictures if I can ever find a USB plug. One thing I thought was particularly funny on the train ride was the seller carrying a national Geographic under on arm and a paint bucket of some sort of roasted nut in the other. He walked up and down the aisles yelling a chant and when stopped, would rip a page out of the mag, roll it into a cone, scoop up some of the nuts and hand it to the buyer. What interesting presentation, I must say!

Well, I made it because here I am in an internet cafe in Nagercoil. I arrived at 6:30 in the AM on Saturday morning to find out that the three teachers and other volunteer from the school were going to Kanyakumari for the day. Of course, I tagged along, weary from the trip, but happy to finally be at my destination. We toured the sights, watched the sunet over the beach, and smiled at the many people taking the "holy bath." The waters are supposedly so sacred that if you dip into them you will be cleansed of all your sins. The swimmers didn't look like they were using their swimming time to be holy. The boys were dunking one another, and the girls (dressed head to toe in their salwars) stood and splashed at the water. I was asked to be in about 500 pictures of groups of friends who wanted to look like they knew a Western girl. My favorite one was a giggling group of high school seniors (boys and girls) who ran up to me and asked me my name and my country as if they had just learned those two questions in English. They swarmed me and, for once, I felt bad for Lindsay Lohan.

The Coconut Thwackers (as I have named them) are street vendors who wheel around carts stacked high with green Indian coconuts. For ten rupees (twenty cents), they will take a curved machete and easily wack off one end, then make a small hole in it with the tip of the knife, shove a straw into it and watch you sip away. Now, the juice doesn't taste like anything, really. It isn't coconut milk. It is coconut water and tastes mostly like water. I think the appeal is looking like you are at a tropical resort drinking some big pina colada from the original shell.

Anyway, the next morning I woke up with a bad case of something. I stayed in bed all day and didn't eat a thing (this is a big deal for me). I slept on and off and felt the usual weakness, shakes, fever, and sweating (oh, this isn't out of the norm). It took the whole day until the infamous traveller's bathroom-loving time came, but it did and I slept soundly. This morning, I felt fine, ate one dosa for breakfast and went on my way for the first day of school. Now I realize this is not anything like what I am used to, but this REALLY isn't like anything I am used to. The method of teaching seemed totally inefficient. The social studies lesson consisted of me reading "the capitol of [African country] if..." numerous times, then they would repeat it word for word. We managed to get through five countries and their capitols today. The English lesson is taught to five students- ranging in age from 5 to 13. Again, it is very hard to get across a solid concept because one can barely read and the oldest is in 7th grade! More updates on how this will play out later. For now, I am off to wander around this strange country and crave Western life just a little bit more. When the other volunteer leaves (in one week), I will move in with the principal of the school and his family. Right now, I am living with his sister and her husband in a very nice room with my own bathroom! With a toilet!! This has potential to be another Riches to Rags story. Oh how I long for the West...

From Riches to Rags

I haven't had internet access in what feels like a near eternity (actually only 4 days), so I will fill you in on EVERYTHING I have experienced during this time, beginning with the decription of the title of this entry. On Thursday night, a friend of a friend of a friend who happens to live in Chennai took me out to dinner with her family. She is related to someone who works with a family friend, or something like that. Anyway, I called her up and that night at 7 she had her two daughters pick me up in their white Ambassador car. Now, I am not totally sure of the difference between taxis and government cars because they are both the Hummer versions of a sedan. Think those big cars from the twenties. Yeah, that's what they are like and no, I don't mean the Model T. Anyway, she works for the government (passport agent- how tedious), so this white behemoth was a government car. We went on a driving tour of the city and while things outside of the air-conditioned, bullet-proof windows were noisy, dirty, and hectic, I felt perfectly content driving through the buzzing streets with the knowledge that our vehicle could (and would) take down any rickshaw, bicyclist, cart-pusher, or cow that came in our way. It was definitely the first time I felt so confident on the streets of chennai.
Ok, enough about the car. We drove through the most commercial part of town. We saw the fancy department stores, bright lights of flashy restaurants and clubs, and hilarious billboards of almost-suggestive cologne ads. They took me to their country club for dinner- a mostly outdoor, white marble club complete with lit tennis courts, a green swimming pool (yes, green- is this normal?), and- my favorite part- an air-conditioned restaurant serving up your usual Chinese and Indian dishes. An odd mix of ethnicities, I will say, but nothing to complain about. I enjoyed an appetizer of hot and sour soup, followed by a hearty dinner of paneer tikka masala, several chicken stews, and naan, roti, and whole wheat chapati. After this, I felt like I just stepped away from the dinner table at Thanksgiving (Indian food is suprisingly filling- much more so than American), but the family insisted on taking me to the best ice cream place in town, which happened to be right next door. Milky Way is the Serendipity of Chennai- all the Bollywood stars come for a quick treat after a day of filming and supposedly on weekend nights, you can't even get in the door. It is mostly what we call soft serve, with hilarious toppings- Jello, canned fruit, nut toffee, nothing too absurd, but not what I would expect. I managed to down half of my Butter-nut-scotch concotion while staring at the crowds of barely post-pubescent boys wearing designer jeans and rather tight shirts with some sort of marbelized pattern covering the polyester. If I had any more time in Chennai, I would be back to Milky Way in an instant. The lure of Euro-wannabes and delicious dessert is just too much for any Westerner to take.
Now to the part of the "rags:" The next day (Friday) was my last in Chennai before I boarded the 5:30 PM overnight train to Nagercoil (more on this in a bit). I went with one of the other volunteers I was staying with to the orphanage where she is working. Before I say anything further, I must declare that I am extremely glad I am not at this assignment. I actually do not know what I would do if I had to be there every day. Ok, we arrive at this place, which is definitely in the farm country outside the city- goats, cows, chickens everywhere. I know that doesn't actually distinguish farm country from the inner city, but I am just setting the mood here. So we step out of the car (no tough Ambassador mobile here) and Sarah, the other volunteer, immediately warns me to stay away from "Brownie." This white dog looks like your average street canine, but is actually an attack dog, tightly chained up near some shack by the road. His name is neither an indication of his color nor his kindness. We walk up to the orphanage and are greeted by three adorable dark-skinned, white-toothed kids saying, "hello sister!" They treat everyone there as family. We were "sister," while the owner is "father" and the like. As you can imagine, the place reeks of stale urine and poo. Hanging in one thatched roof building are 10-15 pieces of fabric draped over the rafters. In each lies a singing, screaming, or snoring baby (pardon my bad spelling- I am not used to a keyboard where I must slam down the letters). If the babies have to go, which they do often, they just go and the older ones are left with a pile of something on the floor to wipe up with a 4-inch rag. This is the reason for the smell.
I spent the day laughing and talking with the kids- who are all amazing, in great spirits, and just plain kid-like- while trying to avoid touching anything. I came out of the day with my pants covered in cat pee, human pee, some poo, dust, possibly lice (all of them are infested), and a shirt covered with the same, and then some.
This was my experience from Riches (literally) to Rags (literally). It was quite definitive of India.