Goodbye and Hello with a Pit toilet cake!

Yep – you read it right – a pit toilet cake. I am finally ending my blog in the best way I know how – with a picture of the cake that my coworkers surprised me with on my first day back at work. And, brilliantly, it looks like a pit toilet! I cant think of a better way to sign off my Jess in India blog. And see below for a few more photos – although none can top this one! Thanks for reading, it’s been fun.


Oh – P.S. In case you don’t realize – India time is almost a whole month behind central standard time. I know this is crazy. Just imagine the jet lag I am feeling! But see this is the explanation for why I am back and you see me here, but there are still blog posts coming up that sound like I am still in India. Just so you aren’t confused.

A few pics to share...

Doing what what we do best...





Some shots of the market in Mysore


Tea pickers in Munnar


Holy monkeys in Mysore


Construction in Udaipur

Eat Eat Love

This should be the title of my blog. Elizabeth whatever went to India for spiritual enlightenment and to Italy to eat. After India, I am certainly in good spirits but definitely not any lighter.

My whole time in India I had only one meal that I did not absolutely love. So I ate and ate as if I were training for something. The all you can eat thalis (for a dollar) used to lay me up for the rest of the day. But by the end of my trip I could eat such a large amount of food that I thought I would have to roll myself home but then I would feel fine. On the way to India I thought Air India fed us way too much all the time food nonstop it was ridiculous. On the way home I could not get from breakfast to lunch without feeling like I was starving! I was peering up and down the isles thinking where is the food cart they can’t possibly not realize that it has been four (four!) hours since our last meal!

So I ate and ate and my belly grew and grew, and I cut my hair shorter and shorter. And then I broke down and bought yoga bloomers which look like diapers. Is this image making you think of Buddha?! ME TOO! Maybe I was eating my way to enlightenment!

So I ate and ate and loved it. And I ended my stay here with another love – eve. For our tenth anniversary I planned this Indian vacation to be the vacation of our lives. I planned and planned and splurged on a few things because heck – 10 years! I wanted it to be special. As I planned and planned (which was dumb because I knew nothing would be as planned anyway) and spent our money, I couldn’t help it – I let eve on my secret – our tenth anniversary trip. And you’ll never believe what she said. She said “Uh – okay - but it’s our 9 year anniversary you know.”

Shitiot! Well – we still had the vacation of our lives, a celebration of India, food, and love. I might be a little closer to enlightenment since I look like a Buddha and next year for the real ten years – well, there’s always Italy!

No Problem.

As ubiquitous as the head waggle is the phrase “no problem”. Often the two go together. Well, everything goes with a head wobble really. No problem – is as necessary and as useful and as frustrating for the newbie in India as the head waggle. Learning the head waggle and learning to use “no problem” makes it much easier to be understood and to put people at ease – they realize you are not a complete freak – you speak a little bit of their language. I quickly learned to phrase questions with no problem. As in – we are on a mountain trek that was supposed to end at four, but it is four and we have no water and we are still on top of a mountain in the middle of no where. This is where we say to our guides ‘We need to be back at four.’ Blank stare. “Can we be back at four?” No answer. One more time ‘We need to be back at four – no problem?’. OHHHhhhhhhh “No problem no problem!’ smile smile smile. Everyone, including us, is suddenly smiley and happy. Which is funny. Because it is four and we are on a mountain with no water.

This is a perfect use of ‘no problem’. Because similar to the head waggle, it can mean just about anything. As I think I have mentioned – the head wobble can mean yes, no, maybe, I don’t know, I hear you, I see you, Im tired of looking at you, I wish you would go away, you’re weird, I want to pick my nose… Similarly ‘no problem’ has many uses. It can mean ‘oh you need to be back at four? Well it is four, and we are in the middle of f’ing nowhere and there is no waaaay you are going to be back at four because it is four duh. But this isn’t really a problem!’ It can mean no problem as in ‘yes you will have your laundry back before you leave in the morning’ or it can mean no problem as in ‘if you don’t have your laundry back before leaving we will deal with it then and im sure there is some small Indian boy who is actually 24 years old that can run off somewhere to retrieve it, and if not then I think maybe my cousin’s cousin’s boyfriend is driving to your next city 5 hours away anyway and could bring it back to you there, and if not then it isn’t really a problem if you don’t get it back because you people have so many clothes anyway!’

I think it is related to another common phrase I heard a lot in India “Same same, but different”. As in “Do you have these red bangles in a larger size?” Bangles seller “no problem, no problem” and brings out orange bangles. “No – the RED bangles”. Bangles seller waggling his head ‘Same same’. Us – “no not same, different –these are orange, those are red. Bangles seller “Same same but different!’ head wobble, head wobble. This concept I think is a bit like the concept of the multiple meanings of no problem – it’s like no problem has many meanings – that are same same, but different.

Trying to figure out which no problem they mean can be amusing. “No problem I will have my laundry back before I leave?’ “No problem madam, no problem” head waggle head waggle, smile smile. You just cant help but smile and waggle back. And really, in the end not much is a problem anyway if us westerners could just be a little less uptight. I mean really, isn’t red practically the same as orange anyhow, and how important is water or clean underwear anyway in the grand scheme of things?

Another Face Pack

There were some things I knew eve just had to experience while in India. One was an ayurvedic massage. So while in Fort Cochin I scheduled her a full body massage at a recommended ayurvedic clinic. She was excited. Afterwards she was in such an altered state she had to take a walk by herself. I will leave eve’s story for her to tell you – and do make her tell – it is most hilarious.
While eve was having her massage I figured id get another face pack and head and shoulders massage. It had been long enough since my first one that I had started reminiscing about someone rubbing my head with such ferocity that half of my hair falls out during the process (it really does). And I guess I just didn’t feel up for the full body massage that day. (eve’s story will enlighten you as to how someone could not be “up for” a massage.)
But the women who were my massagers didn’t understand this, and weren’t having it. All communication is once again in charades as we did not share a language. Apparently the guys downstairs who I spoke English with about what I wanted didn’t talk with these women. They kept motioning to my whole body, to take off my clothes and I kept motioning to just my head and neck and face and that’s all. For some reason the only way I could think to charade this was to make the cutting off my head motion. You know – stop after my neck. It didn’t work that well. After multiple attempts to communicate to one another, these sweet women just got tired of it and took my shirt off for me. They were gentle but firm and there was no way to resist these women from busily yanking off my clothes. I thought this was particularly funny since at my last facial they wouldn’t let me take off my shirt. They kept trying for my pants but I won on this one. I just wasn’t having it. I wanted it my way. I got this way at the end of my stay – I just wanted sometimes to have something the way I wanted. Even if they thought this was dumb.

They were the most caring and tender women ever. Between the two of them my face pack turned into a full body massage through my pants, and they would take turns with one massaging while the other smacked mosquitos off of me. The room had an open window through which I could hear some guy chanting in the courtyard. Sometimes when I opened my eyes the older woman would have her face 1 inch away from mine staring intently into my face. This was disconcerting and provoked multiple laughing fits. She just wanted to make sure everything was ‘okay’ but it is really funny to have a stranger do this. And like how you cant stop looking at something you don’t want to look at – I just couldn’t help myself from opening my eyes to see her staring at me from one inch away and would start laughing all over again.

At the end of my massage I decided I wanted to shower at our homestay one block away rather than at the clinic. This is very logical because that’s where my clean clothes were. This was the MOST illogical thing to them EVER. But again – I was feeling stubborn that day and wanted to just have this one thing MY WAY.

So again the charades started. Me uselessly talking away, her pulling on my pants - again. This went on for quite awhile. I started laughing. Because remember I am topless, I have dried mud all over my face, and I am in a bathroom with a very old Indian woman in a beautiful purple sari who is trying to pull my pants off – AGAIN!
I won.
Well, kind of. I didn’t shower. She showered me. With my pants on.

I think finally she decided I was a little slow and took my upper body and grabbed my head and put it under the shower and with her other hand rinsed my face. This took awhile because the mud gets everywhere. A few times I tried to take over but she had had enough. She clucked away at me and kept rinsing me like I was a small child. Then she toweled me off and still clucking led me back to the massage room. Where her massaging partner looked at me and they clucked together with lots of waving and shaking of the head. The other woman was obviously also very unhappy about the fact that I had not showered. She went and got another towel and grabbed my head, put it in her space and began to rub it ferociously. I just let her have it. My head I mean. Then she showed me the towel with all the mud stains on it clucking and shaking her head. I just looked at her, feeling a little woozy but somehow very cared for, and smiled.

Then as eve went off on her solitary walk to digest her massage experience (im telling you – ask her about it!) I went back to our little homestay to shower. Hah!

When I got to our homestay – lulu the homestay owner, who was more like our fort cochin mother, asked about our day. When I told her I had just had a massage and nonchalantly mentioned that I had just come home to shower she stopped in her tracks. She turned and seemingly shocked said ‘You did not shower there?!’

I couldn’t believe this. It was like I never learned and I would never hear the end of me not showering at the clinic. I ended up just walking away and went up to my room to shower in peace. Sometimes you just have to assert yourself and fight for your independence. And sometimes this just ends up being way, WAY more work than it’s worth.

We are safe

Hey all - I'm sure many of you have heard about the terrorist attacks in Mumbai. If not you live in a hole. Eve is here with me and we are both safe. I collected her from Mumbai yesterday and went immediately back to pune. It is throwing a wrench in our travel plans but who cares when eve is safe. Yesterday was horrible for me - no funny stories to share about it. I will share in person some time. But we are safe and sound and gaining perspective by the minute. Well, I am. Eve is a rock and never lost hers. I hope to have a post soon with eve as my guest blogger to share our vacation stories with you all!

Cheers to all of you

As many of you know, today is my birthday.

I am having a great day. I am now a morning person (this is because I am more mature and wished for this as a birthday present and it came true). So I got up at 5.30am. My sweet newfound friend roommate gave me flowers. Then I walked up Parvati Hill to watch the sunrise. There is a temple at the top (of course. there are temples even at intersections.) I was surrounded by indians "aum"ing and other indians doing pushups or jumping rope or meditating, and cows and dogs. It was a great start to my day. Then a fabulous practice where I did exactly what I love to practice and no poses that are frustrating. Someone whistled "happy birthday" when they walked by me (this might be the first time I have ever laughed while doing parivrtta ardha chandrasana.) Then a fabulous thali lunch at Asha Dining Hall (yum!) with a couple new german and canadian friends who were so sweet to buy lunch and coffee and give me a little gift.

Then the best part - I came to the internet cafe and there you all were! I am so overwhelmed and touched by all of the birthday emails and all the love! I am all teary eyed and in love with all of you. Thanks so much for all the birthday love. You've really made my day perfect. For real. Being away always makes me realize how lucky I am to have everyone i have back home. Even if you dont know how to wobble your head.

Those of you who did not know it was my birthday or did not realize the time difference or didnt email please do not worry or feel bad.
You can give me a big gift when i get home.

love to all
jess

Indian English

Before I start this post, let me just say that they are playing "No im never gonna dance again, guilty whatever got no rythm" and the guy next to me is crooning away out loud. perfect.

So, Indian English. I wrote awhile back about written indian english. Now a note on oral indian english. This is much different than chicago english.
Here is a typical conversation between me and a random indian:

Me "Do you have any cottages (chicago accent) at your hotel?"
Indian "Madam?" (I get madamed if on the phone, otherwise sirmadam is my title)

Repeat these lines back and forth about 4 times, emphasizing different words each time, saying them louder, saying them slower, enunciating more and more. Each time the Indian offers something else trying so so hard to please me, but never ever having anything to do with a cottage.

Me - thinking... how can i say this differently? Then - Oh right! I conjure up Helen Mirren in my head, lift my chin putting on a snooty aire and say "Do you have any cottages (British accent)?"

Indian "Cottages (british accent) Why of course madam!" Thinking - why the hell didnt you say so five minutes ago.

This goes for pretty much anything. Substitute 'cottage' for anything else i might want and this conversation is pretty much my life here. I have never been that great at accents, but I sure am getting better. I used to ask for water normally before giving in and pretending to be hugh grant and asking for water, but now i go straight for hugh grant. It is much more efficient. When I do not use the accent they honestly have no idea what i am saying.

Other pronunciations of english words are harder to describe but just as important to learn in order to communicate.
For example - I live in a neighborhood called Model Colony. The first few weeks here this is how it went:
Me "Model colony (how you would say it)"
Rickshaw driver "eh?" shaking head (not wobbling head which would be a good sign).
Me "Model colony (made up accent)"
Rickshaw driver saying some other place entirely, just a shot in the dark.
This would sometimes eventually work out after many back and forths, but sometimes not and we would move on to the next driver or he would give up on us and scuttle away.
When it was successful they would say "model colony" (real fast, dont really pronounce the vowels and have your tongue further back in your mouth). And when we would nod emphatically and be so excited that it was communicated successfully they would be confused. because this is not what we said at all. so why did we want to go to model colony now when we had been saying some other place entirely for five minutes? One guy actually took the time to spell out M-O-D-E-L and pronounce it for us. Because obviously we must not understand the word by the way we were saying it. Great fun.

Other times it is not the accent but the word choice. When we were in a nearby hillstation for the weekend most of the staff at the hotel did not speak english, or their english was very limited. The little man who was our guy there (brought us everything always was the same guy no matter what time of day or night) did not speak any english - only Marathi. Of which i know about one word. We would have long conversations. Him in Marathi and me in english. You might think this would be frustrating, but somehow these are the smoothest conversations. They always make me smile. He would go on and on and then pause. Then I would go on and on and smile. We would go on this way for awhile, and then the conversation would draw to a natural close and we part ways, both smiling and satisfied.
We have no idea what each other said.
He could be talking about cauliflower and me about towels. If the conversations were translated it would be hilarious. But somehow it works.

So back to word choice. As I said, some of the staff spoke some english. For example:

Ordering chai:
Me "do chai please"
Him "With sugar?"
Me "Sugar on the side" (otherwise it is liquid candy which i love, but not all the time)
Him "without sugar?"
Me - thinking - "Little sugar?"
Him "with sugar?"
Me - "small sugar?"
Him "chai?"
Me (uh oh we are regressing) "yes yes chai... hmmmm sugar..... separate?"
Him " sugar separate!?"
ME "Yes yes yes! SUGAR SEPARATE!!!"
HIM "SUGAR SEPARATE!!"

we are both so excited about communicating that we are now both yelling at eachother, so happy and feeling so accomplished that we repeat it back and forth with joy and have total volume control problems (not really an issue in india).

My indian english is getting better and better. I used to feel silly, but now I feel like a pro. Listening and repeating has been way more useful than my "learn Hindi" cds.
Now I order chai with confidence and say "Sugar separate!" with a smile and a head wag. It seems to go over well most anywhere.

My indian motorcycle ride!

Hmmmm where to start...
When I first got here one of the first tasks on my list was to get a cell phone. Without it I had no means of calling home and of course this is the first thing that I wanted to do.
Being the dumb traveller that I am I thought 'I don't need to go to the recommended cell phone place - they probably just like that place because its fancy and the white people are snobs...' So I went into a nearby cellphone shop and felt like an adventurous traveller as I proceeded to purchase a phone and cell phone service with these great guys who dont speak english.
They quickly became my phone guys. We have "guys" all over - our veggie wallah guy our coconut guy, our internet hole guys, our travel agent guy, etc. We love our guys. We cling to them as they make us feel like we are known and understood in this big indian city where everyone stares at us like we are crazy white people (we are). I would see my cell phone guys every time I needed to 'recharge'. They were astounded by how often and how many rupees this was. Our conversations were always long and fairly humorous. Lots of head waggling on both ends (yes I am perfecting my head wobble). Lots of smiling as we do not understand eachother. In the beginning when I had lots of questions they would often pull people in off the street to translate for us. They would give me chai in little plastic flouride cups from the street. Getting chai is our sign that we are in like flynn with someone. "guess what - i got chai from the travel agent today!" we would boast. This is kind of ridiculous because anyone that hangs out long enough (especially around chai time at 2 - 3:00) will get offered chai. But again, in our world getting chai makes us feel like we are a part of something and that people actually like us. I accept every chai that is offered which means that sometimes i am jittery and having to use the bathroom much more than desired at the institute. That's how much I like it.
So you get it right - They were my guys.

Were. We had a falling out.

Ill spare you the details of my worst India day. The details are silly and already don't seem worth my reaction. But of course when a person cracks it is not the one thing preceeding that causes it - it was just my state of mind, probably my state of hormones, my intense missing of eve and waiting for her to come, my new bff's being gone for awhile, etc. It is funny how the littlest thing and not being able to communicate with people can make a person feel so helpless, so frustrated! It (and many other things) makes me think of the stresses of being an immigrant. When I get this feeling being a priveleged tourist! Anyway I will bravely say that I actually almost cried with my guys. And we had our falling out because they just smiled and laughed and wobbled when they saw my almost tears and that was it!

But im getting distracted - this was all before the motorcycle ride.
The jist of it is that my cell phone service was cut off for about 5 days and the guys had no idea why. I knew they hadn't done service hook ups for many foreigners, but I didnt think about the consequences of this when I was so boldly being an adventurous traveller. They communicated to me that I should go to the service provider headquarters. They were not able to provide an address or a phone number of this place, just a name of a road. A large, long road. They said the directions that I get so often here "straight." Like this makes everything obvious. Straight where?! I managed to communicate that this was insane (lots of head wobbling and waving of my arms and talking loudly).
They had an answer. A guy would take me there in his car. Except the guy in the car didnt seem that interested in chauffering the weird orangehead around town on his saturday. They had another answer. The bollywood looking guy made the motorcycle vroom vroom motion with his hands and pointed to the other guy and me. I actually smiled and then shook my head no. Ive told you about the traffic. Being out there on a motorcycle is crazy!
But after 15 more minutes with no further progress, when he made the vroom vroom hand action I paused. I did what I do in many situations in which I want to make sure I make a safe decision - I thought "What would emmy do?". (For those of you who don't know Emmy is my sister and she LOVES safety.) I thought about this for awhile. I could not imagine emmy on the back of that motorcycle.
But then I thought about all the things here that I was really glad emmy could not see. When we first got here we were listing all the many ways that we could die in India. Many of them I think I might not have noticed if it weren't for em's influence. Some examples: the traffic, the hotels that have gates to lock in their guests at night from the outside (crazy! havent they heard of fires!?), the way our apartment door can be easily locked from the outside, the telephone wires that catch on the floats, the for real for real fireworks the children yes children set off in traffic, and so on. We quickly realized that we had to stop this exercise and concentrate on living in India.

ANYWAY - I finally broke down and head wobbled my way to the motorcycle. All the women passengers on motorcycles sit side saddle and do not hold on to the man. I KNEW emmy would NOT sit side saddle, and I wouldn't either. I boldly straddled it, and held on to the slight indian man in front of me and tried to relax. And of course like all things dangerous - it was fun!

That was the only fun part though. I failed in getting my service reactivated. Feeling cut off from the world and so sorry for myself I went back to my phone guys to insist on them helping as they messed it up in the first place.
As you can probably imagine, this wasn't very fruitful. It reminded me a little of yelling in the fishmarket in ecuador. (mom you are the only one who will get that reference so hope you read this!) Except I dont speak the language and it didnt turn out well. I dramatically broke up with my phone guys.

In the end I learned my lesson and went to the recommended fancy cellphone place and bought a new simcard and service. I practically hugged and touched the feet of my new phone guy. Who speaks english impeccably and fixed my problem in 2 minutes.


I didn't end up sparing you any of the details. Now I've poured my heart out to you all about my big break up. It is too bad though that I lost my phone guys who have been with me for all this time. I probably won't get chai from the new guy. But at least I can call home and have the stunning memory of my gallant ride around town on the motorcycle!

Stuff I used to think was weird...

So I am nearing my last week in Pune before taking off for my grand vacation with evie! Yes I know it probably seems ludicrous to all of you that I am taking a vacation, but after you spend two months in Pune then you will understand how much I am looking forward to it. As I wind up my stay here, I started thinking about all the things that I noticed when I got here - things i thought were weird, or interesting or funny - things that I now don't notice so much. I thought Id share some of them before I lose that perspective entirely.

The dump.
Down the street from the insitute is a large toyota dealer. All fancy like. Directly across the street from the toyota dealer is the dump. A large dumpster with garbage flowing all around it. The dump has become a regular part of my day. It is a reference point for most everything "yea, it is just past the dump, then take a left...".
We buy our vegetables at the dump. Yes, we go shopping at the dump. The veggie wallah (guy selling veggies from a cart) parks at the dump every day all day. At first i thought it crazy that he would set up shop in front of the stinking pile of overheaping garbage. I also thought it entertaining that it was right across from the fancy toyota dealer. And that every day there is a family of pigs, a goat, and sometimes a cow and donkey that hang out at the dump eating the garbage and occassionally crossing the street. Then one day we stopped to buy veggies there because it was convenient. And now he's our guy.

The sweeping.
I wake in the morning to the sound of sweeping. It starts at 5am. The stick brooms are everywhere. Really everywhere. They are in use by everyone who seems to be sweeping at all times. They are for sale at every shop, and they are for sale by guys riding around on their bikes hollering something (i presume something like 'brooms for sale!). Pune is like the city that always sweeps. The sweeping is not contained to houses or patios or shops. They sweep the gravel, they sweep the dirt path, they sweep the street. I am not exadgerating - I have seen people sweeping gravel multiple times. The constant sound of sweeping used to grate on my nerves, and i couldnt help my brain sometimes from internally shouting 'why are you sweeping DIRT?!'. I still dont fully understand, and dont expect to, but suspect it has something to do with all the bare feet.

The cows and sheep.
They are everywhere. There is one flock of sheep that the sheep guy brings to the lot next to my flat (also a place for garbage) to graze. There is one cow that lives on the sidewalk by my phone shop (where I bought my phone and where i recharge at intervals and amounts that continue to astound the friendly phone shop guys). I am finally no longer startled by this cow. Imagine walking down the street and almost stepping on a large supine cow. Now I expect the cow. There is also a neighborhood cow who has an injured leg so is easy to spot as he takes leisurely strolls up and down the streets and backalleys of our hood. Goats and pigs too, but the cows and sheep are the most prevalent. Well, besides the dogs.

The beds.
You know those beds you can buy that cost a bundle and are so special because you can lie in the bed and a large human can jump into the bed and it wont even jostle one bit? Well India has perfected (or perhaps invented) this idea. The beds are so firm that I set my cup of chai on the bed with nothing under it. Then i proceed to sit down, get up, do whatever, and do not at all need to worry about the tea spilling. It is like magic. Fortunately I prefer firm beds. My peers here are constantly whining...

Business hours.
It took me way too long to figure out that most stores are closed between the hours of 1 and 4pm. Now it all makes sense. But for the first month I just could not pick up on the pattern. Or perhaps refused to believe it. Also took me way too long to realize that the frequent power outages had a pattern too. And that they are planned andthe times are actually posted in the paper!

Oh man there are way too many of these. I will have to come back later to tell you about addresses and directions and bhindis and standing in lines and much more I am sure!

OBAMA WINS!!!!!!!

It is with great joy that i write that title.

The whole country of India seems thrilled with Obama. From our wealthy landlord who told us emphatically and urgently "OH you MUST vote for Obama, you must!" to one Indian student at the institute who cried out with the good news "Oh it is BRILLIANT! I must go watch the tele!", to all the rickshaw drivers who have commented "Obama, good man, good man". Most of the rickshaw drivers do not speak english really, but they all know Obama and know how to say that he is a good man. The most common question we get here is "Where from you are?" When we respond USA the response often has to do with Obama. This was the case before the election, and of course after as well. I love this.

It is a little bittersweet for those of us here in pune - we celebrated and are as happy and proud as can be - but i think it is the first time many of us really wished we were home. When I realized that I would be here for the election I was disappointed, but also trying to remember the positive - that I would have the unique experience of witnessing the Indian reaction to the election. And it has been great - but god I have never missed chicago more in my life. I am so happy to see the pictures (thanks beth) of my friends and family at the speech and to hear what it was like. It is overwhelming to see the crowds, to see chicago, to see a snapshot of this incredible moment in our lives. I wish i had been there to experience it all with you and my fellow chicagoans. But we did our best to celebrate here in Pune...

We are 10.5 hours ahead here, so going to bed on Tuesday night was a little like christmas. We were all so excited, so nervous, so impatient and feeling a bit like we were all going to puke. When I woke up on wednesday morning I immediately called eve to hear any news. At this point we found out that he had Ohio and Pennsylvania! I immediately went in and woke up the two friends staying with me, and they made calls home as well. All morning we drank our chai and called people we knew and shouted, what about florida? do they know about indiana yet?! We were so jacked up it was kind of ridiculous that we actually had to go to yoga class. It was the women's class - so my friend aaron went to hang out and check out the progress at the internet while we went to class. The buzz in the room was inaudible but definitely detectable. We waited and waited for aaron to show up on the stairs with a sign.

And then there he was. I stared and stared at him as he tried to find me in the crowd of students. I turned my head in poses in ways i shouldnt to see him. And finally he saw me and he smiled the hugest smile and then I smiled the hugest smile until I thought my face would break.

Finally class ended and as we put the props away all you could here is "he won!". Outside of the institute we shared the news and screamed and hugged and cried and jumped up and down. The americans the loudest, but all the germans, the brits, the canadians, and of course the Indians joined in. I dont know where the russians were.

We rushed to the restaurant that is like our "cheers" to watch his speech on the internets. On the way I couldnt contain myself - hollered out to who ever I could "obama won!". One rickshaw driver heard me and smiled and said 'yes!' and nodded matching my enthusiasm. Our enthusiasm was squashed a bit when we couldnt get the speech downloaded. This was one of the times I wished pune had bars or somewhere with tvs. They just dont exist here. Or i dont know where they are. But we gathered together in a hotel room and watched the speech on the indian news and cried.

That night we had a little Pune obama party. My friend aaron and I made matching t-shirts (check out an actual picture on www.aarongoestoindia.blogspot.com) we had a toast, and celebrated. It is a treat to celebrate with an international crowd.

The next day we bought up all the papers we could. Every single paper was covered with the news. Most of the articles focused on the fact that obama is the first black president, and every time printed his whole name including his middle name hussein. More than a few times his muslim family members were mentioned. They were full of quotes like "the civil war has ended!". Or the headline in the Hindustani Times "Change has come to America. The United States' first black president elect carries the world's hope that he can heal it". A better quote i think was again another rickshaw driver who said something like "obama, he is brown like me, a good man a good man".

I swear I feel different now. I feel that now I can hold my head high and the next time someone asks "where from you are?" that i can announce with pride (finally) "USA!!!"

My first pac/k

While in Mysore, I had 2 memorable firsts. The first was my first mysore pak.

If I were a poet or creative in this way at all, I would write a poem dedicated to pak. It is the best sweet in the world. It is so good it feels wrong. A sweet so rich, so buttery, it feels as if you are eating just the butter/sugar mixture (but way way better) that is the filling to some other dessert. This is the way many indian sweets seem to me, that they are missing the flour. But it is lovely. I find that just a bite or two is an exorbitant amount. I have a feeling this is not the way all people feel. We bought a quarter kilo of pak for our landlady back in pune and our building guy as a little gift. We gave our building guy the pak when he came to collect the garbage at 8 in the morning. By the time we went downstairs to go to class at about 8:45 he had eaten the whole box! And he looked like he thought this was not a big deal at all. Either that or he was comatose from all the sugar...

So my other first was also in mysore and it was also a pack. A facial pack. We decided to go to an ayurvedic clinic and treat ourselves to a beauty treatment. THe clinic we went to was much more of a real ayurvedic clinic and less so a place that caters to people with money who want massages and facials, etc. I have never had a facial in my life, and I am quite glad that my first experience was in India. I have a feeling that nothing will ever compare...
So, first thing was that they had us hop up onto this large wooden table and sit upright with our legs hanging over the edge. They they poured vast amounts of oil into our hair ( i mean VAST) and rubbed the hell out of our heads. I have never had anyone rub my head with such force or for such a long time in my whole life. It made me aware of my head in a way that i have never experienced. I have never thought about all these different parts of my head that I have never had rubbed and pounded before. Yes it was a bit agressive but i found that i liked it.
Next, we sit cross legged on the table and bend over to put our faces in this little steamer. It was so hot my face was burning and the sweet indian woman providing this service kept pushing my face down each time i tried to come up for air! So i was dripping, burning, and laughing.
Then, finally I got to lie down. She then poured VAST amounts of oil onto my face and rubbed my face with more strength than I think is required. It was also nice, except for the part where my lips were rubbed against my teeth and i had to squeeze my eyes shut in fear that my eyeballs would be deformed from the rubbing.
Then, we got the pack. Special all natural home made mud stuff that they rubbed on my face. AFter about ten minutes or so, i was then told to rinse my face. Which meant bending over this tiny sink and trying to rinse off all the mud from my face and neck. This was difficult. Then I dried my face on a communal towel.

The whole time, the indian women were whispering and giggling. Of course, as any egocentric american would, I assume that they were giggling at me. Maybe because my hair is funny or because i look like a man, or because we were paying what to them is a lot a lot of rupees for them to pound on our heads. Or maybe it was because I tried to take off my white shirt a total of 3 times during this experience. They physically stopped me every time. I had a tank top on too, they just WOULD NOT let me take off my shirt.

So my one nice shirt got its first pack to, and it is now PACK full of oil and mud stains. But i have decided this is a small price to pay for this jam PACKed experience!

No shoes, no shirt...

There is such a different relationship to shoes here in India than we are used to. It is not uncommon to see people walking down the busy street barefoot, wearing nice clothes, and talking on a cell phone. Also the waitors often are barefoot. And of course we take our shoes off before entering the instite, any house, most stores, and of course the temples and other places of note. Piles of shoes are everywhere.

While in Mysore, we visited a very famous palace. Before going into the palace you must turn in your shoes. For a place this big there is actually a shoe booth. It is very reminiscent of turning in your shoes at a roller rink or bowling alley. Except you do not get skates or bowling shoes in return. Then everyone walks around the palace and the inner grounds barefoot. It is kind of nice. Especially in the palace - there was something very intimate about walkign around this huge, ornate, beautiful palace barefoot. The one thing that can be a little harder to get used to is that there are often cows and in this case elephants and camels in the grounds. Which means there are piles of animal dung everywhere, and yes we are walking barefoot. But everyone is doing it so it seems normal. And every day our feet seem the dirtiest possible even with shoes on, so dung seems like nothing.

Oh and yes i have a toilet update! While in Mysore i used my first squat toilet. It was at the bus station when we arrived, which is unfortunate because as you can imagine the toilets are not the most pleasant. And i had an indian woman trying to push me out of the bathroom because she thought I should go in the mens. She didnt know how bad i had to pee! And since then, it's like i broke the seal. Because now ive used a million squat toilets. They are actually quite logical. what do you need the seat for when there's no way youre going to sit on it anyway?