To Wish You Were Swedish

    A few weeks ago, some of my American friends went to Mumbai for the weekend. They ended up meeting these two Swedish guys who were travelling, and became friends with them. This past weekend, the two Swedes, came to Hyderabad and we all got to hang out together. Daniel and Markus are some of the coolest people I have ever met. They are both about 21 and worked two years to have enough money to travel the world.

    And that is exactly what they are doing.

  Over the course of seven months they will see most of the world together. When we met up with them in Hyderabad, they had already been gone two months and had gone through Africa. I planted myself next to Daniel and listened as he told me about riding a camel through pyramids and wandering around Tahrir Square while protesters handed them signs in Arabic.

 After that they went on to Kenya and spent time in Nairobi. I was most interested to here about this, did they just see touristy things, or did they see any of the real Kenya, the Kenya that I knew? I was not disapointed. Daniel and Markus spent a full day going through Kibera slum and playing with the children in one of the schools. They then took a trip out to to Masai village and danced with them around a fire at night. I loved hearing Daniel describe the Masai and how fascinating they are. Even just a day in Kibera was enough to change him he said.

    After Kenya they headed to South Africa and saw as much as they could before flying to India. After they left us they will head to Thailand and the area around before landing in beautiful California. The journey that they are taking is one that most people dream of their whole lives but never actually get to take. Markus said that they were just joking around one day looking at maps and planned out a route that they would want to take. Then they started working harder until the day they quit their jobs and left for an adventure of a lifetime. The stories that they can tell about the people they have met, the food they have tried and the situations that they got themselves into are unreal. When I met them, all I could think was that I cannot wait to be a journalist and go on adventures with people like these two guys.

   At the end of the day, Markus and Daniel were asked what they best and worst parts of their trip had been so far. The answer to both was Kenya. They said that the poverty that they saw was worse than they had ever imagined and will stick with them for a long, long time. But that they people, the land, the culture of Kenya, was they best and most beautiful that they had seen so far on their journey.

After they left, some of us just sat and thought about our lives, how dreaming can lead to incredible adventures and how much of the world we have left to see . :)

When the Extraordinary becomes Ordinary

Here in India, we are coming up on the three month mark. Three months of eating things we don’t know the names of and wearing clothing that makes us look like we are having the best pajama party ever.  Three months of getting lost and finding our way and getting very, very lost and eventually having a nice stranger taking pity on us to take us back to campus. Three months of adventures and crazy picture moments and not knowing what insane thing the next day will hold.

                But around three months, things have started to change a bit. The honeymoon stage is long past, the point where India drives you crazy at every turn is pattering away, the can’t-wait-to-get-back-on-that- air-conditioned-plane-and-get-the-heck-away-from-here phase only comes in waves now, and a rut seems to have been found.

                India has gotten comfortable. We know how to play by the rules now, how to barter and bargain and get a good deal. Road conditions are no longer terrifying and I even scream less, the food has become normal (it’s still so spicy and we still don’t know the names, but normal as can be). Talking to people on the train or on the street is getting easier, even speaking in Hindi or Urdu. We can read the signs that are in other languages, and the idea of taking a train across the country is commonplace. Our comfort food when we’re sick has changed from soup to mango juice and sweet biscuits.  Indian toilets don’t take a second thought. Saris and kurtas are as comfortable as jeans.

                I realized that things were different when I was sitting in my classroom one day. The walls are designed to have patterns cut into them to let in a breeze, but when the power goes out and the fans don’t turn, you can feel all 102 degrees. I was watching a woman in bright clothing point to the blackboard, being distracted by the gecko running across the wall, and I discovered how at home I felt.

                It feels so normal to wait for the water buffalo to cross the street before pedaling your one-speed bicycle up the dirt road. Normal to drink mango juice all the time and watch Bollywood movies, we even know many of the actors by now.  Normal to wake up in India.

                There are still plenty of adventures of course. Plenty of moments where we have to just go ahead and try, even if we just end up falling over laughing.  There will still be screw ups and lots and lots of things that are just plain crazy.  There is still wonder and the joy of discovery (or horror, depending on what it is).   I have just under six weeks left in India, and that is what has come to feel strange now.

Peculiar

India has little peculiarities. India has giant pecularites, but there are little ones as well. Today I ate rose ice-cream, watched the security guard chase cows out of the dorm lawn area, and hung out with the buddhist monk while he played computer solitaire.

When I returned from shopping my roommate and I got to drink earl grey out of our new mugs and dip pinapple cookies in them for our afternoon tea :)

Peculiar :)

On a the bigger side of things, (less peculiar, more fun)  I have only two and a half days of school this week. Then nine of us jump a bus for Chennai, a  coastal town thirteen hours away. This weekend is Republic Day and school has been canceled. We have a four day weekend to sit on the beach and explore Chennai and drice to Pondecherry, an old French colony town also on the coast. We will get to go swimming in the Bay of Bengal in a matter of days :) The last time I was in the Indian Ocean I was in Kenya, so I'm excited to see this part of it.

Tommorrow I start my Urdu lessons, which means that I will be spending more time in the muslim area of town to practice speaking. These are three adorable boys we met last weekend when we were visiting there :)

School

School in India has a lot of similarities to America. We go to class for example. The teacher teaches and uses old maps. There is that annoying kid who likes to ask long winded questions right before the end of the class to show off and ends up delaying class.

Things start to change when the teacher hands out the syllabus. The first thing I notice is that there are no dates on it. The syllabus does not lay out day by day what we will be studying. Or what to have read by what day. Instead, it is a list of things we will be learning, and a longer list of books to read. A long list. Of books that can be found by wandering around the sociology department and finally stumbling into a room that contains The Binder. Inside The Binder is a list of all books and their matching number, which you can show to the Telegu speaking librarian to find for you. Once he finds said book, you can write your name on a scrap of paper and try to convey in Telegu when you will bring it back. And then you can start your homework.

The post office on campus also has a quaint charm to it. Behind bars sits a man straight out of a cabana movie who will sell you tear-off stamps that you can glue on with the drying bottle of rubber cement before putting the letter in the box and hoping it finds its way home.

The construction being done on campus will make the main road (about two miles long) into a two lane instead of a one lane. This will allow for students on bikes, motorcycles and tractors to share the road more easily. Almost all of the road construction is done by hand. Men and women haul rocks and dirt in buckets on their heads to make this road.

My fear of being chased by a wild boar on campus is lessening since I got my bike and I am learning to successfully drive on the left or in someone else's lane to fit in.

Oh, India :)

Gaudy India

On our first day of orientation here, a professor asked us why we had wanted to study in India. One of the girls replied that it was because she wanted to get away from the consumer culture. Our professor just laughed at her.

India is as much about consuming as America. There are markets and malls and shopping centers everywhere and everywhere there are people buying at them. From clothes to jewelry to flowers to rugs to shoes to more, India is selling.

And everything India is selling is beautiful. As soon as you believe that you've just seen the most beautiful sari ever, another Indian women walks past with more colors and more sequins. Even the black burkhas that the Muslim women have to wear come in pattened fabrics with gold and flowers.

Yes, India is definetly gaudy. Pun quite intended.

The gods worshipped in India, are everywhere as well. The god "Lakshmi" who is the goddess of wealth, is praised everywhere. Many businesses are named after her, if they don't then there is a picture of her to be found nearby. Krishna is also to be found on many street corners, as well as Sheva, the destroyer.

The mosque we visited yesterday was indeed impressive. I waited outside as women were not allowed in the prayer room. My male friend went inside and took my camera so that I could see later. I was not the only woman on the outside. An older woman in a burkha stood sadly at the metal grill and stared inside, not allowed to worship because of her sex.

A Few Pictures

First Sights of India

I am finally in India. A place with incredible history, food, music and religions. I live in the international house, on our 1500 acre campus that has red dirt, jungle, wild boars, and plenty of people.

My last two days here have been spent travelling into the city to get ready, and taking tours. I already feel like a seasoned India-traveler as I drink mango juice and barter for an auto-rickshaw ride in my flower-patterned kurta. Everything in India is brightly colored and apparently if it doesn't have sequins it isn't flashy enough. Shopping is just a bright blend of clashing and wonderful mixes.

While the culture of India is very different, there are many western influences. Today while shopping for a sari, we listened to Michael Jackson and The Backstreet Boys. English gets me around the city, but most people in India only speak it as a trade language and often try to talk to us in Hindi, Urdu or Telegu.

I have only seen one temple so far, but Hindu idols are everywhere. All of the taxi drivers have pictures either hanging or on thier dashboard. Many stores have Hindu elements and many people are named after Hindu gods to keep them in mind. Muslim women are easy to spot with thier head wraps or burkas. But their are cultural mixes here as well. Some women have full black burkas, and some women have head wraps that are covered in mult colored sequins.

Indi is certainly not boring :)