Friday, November 28, 2008
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!
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
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
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.
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.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
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!
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!
Thursday, November 20, 2008
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!
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!
Friday, November 7, 2008
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!!!"
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!!!"
Sunday, November 2, 2008
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!
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?
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?
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Flying with memories
So, this week is Divali, one of the biggest holidays in India. The institute is closed, so we had no choice but to take a great Indian vacation! We flew to bangalore and drove to Mysore for the week. Our journey started at the Pune airport. As we waited for boarding time, we decided to have a snack and some chai in the airport lounge.
One of the most enjoyable things abot India is the difference in the use of the English language. It is creative, sometimes puzzling, and often amusing to us. At many restaurants the menu has some amusing categories and descriptions, but this one took the cake. I copied it down it was so great. I cannot reflect all the different fonts, italics, boldface, but I think you will still enjoy it. Here is what it said on the front of the menu:
Airport Port Lounge
FLYING with MEMORIES
Gazing in the Panoramic Beauty
Destination to Touch
JITTERY STOMACH
Settle on a flavoursome company
with Port snacks to serve you
Savour the delight of exotic tastes
Let your mind be consumed
in ECSTASY of TANG
for APPETIZING solitude as this
is SPORADIC and SOLE
Do you like?
we like it so much we are considering putting it on a tshirt!
One of the most enjoyable things abot India is the difference in the use of the English language. It is creative, sometimes puzzling, and often amusing to us. At many restaurants the menu has some amusing categories and descriptions, but this one took the cake. I copied it down it was so great. I cannot reflect all the different fonts, italics, boldface, but I think you will still enjoy it. Here is what it said on the front of the menu:
Airport Port Lounge
FLYING with MEMORIES
Gazing in the Panoramic Beauty
Destination to Touch
JITTERY STOMACH
Settle on a flavoursome company
with Port snacks to serve you
Savour the delight of exotic tastes
Let your mind be consumed
in ECSTASY of TANG
for APPETIZING solitude as this
is SPORADIC and SOLE
Do you like?
we like it so much we are considering putting it on a tshirt!
Love
As in food love. I am in love with the food here. I am not exadgerating when i say that i have loved every meal and every snack i have had since setting foot on the plane (air india). I have loved every single bite. I have not had one single mediocre meal. Everything is delicious! I sometimes wonder if i will find the food bland when back in the states! So, I could talk about every dish in great detail, but I will tell you about just one particularly memorable meal we had.
The other night we were at the dingy hotel in our neighborhood which has our favorite restaurant on its rooftop. We go here regularly because it is really convenient, has a great atmosphere, and as in every other restaurant i have been to - the food is excellent. Like in every other restaurant there is always a gaggle of waitors doing pretty much nothing but serving our every need. Honestly there are always at least 10 or more waitors at each restaurant and usually like 3 tables of people. At this restuarant they are awkwardly formal and so sweet to us. They notice when our straw drops on the table and give us a new one, they serve each of the dishes on to our plates... They are used to us here, and we are used to them.
This night we tried an appetizer - a tandoori gobi dish. This means that it is cauliflower in a great spice, grilled up. Being the dairy fanatic that i am I was hoping we would order the cheese one, but was happy to have the cauliflower as well.
I HAVE NEVER HAD ANYTHING SO YUMMY IN MY WHOLE LIFE.
We were practically rolling on the floor it was so good. I cannot explain and I do not understand how cauliflower could ever taste this good. And I like cauliflower.
So while we are eating our gobi in awe one of our ten waitors stops by and asks if we like it. I said, as enthusiastically as i have ever said anything in my entire life, "I LOVE IT!!"
The waitor began to smile and then giggle and was then giggling uncontrollably. He left our table laughing the whole way.
Which is when i remembered that the word "love" is not necessarily used in this sense in different parts of the world. I realized that I think I basically just said that I would like to have sex with the cauliflower.
I think this is the first I have made an Indian really laugh. They find us very amusing just by existing and asking the dumb questions we ask, but this is the first that one has really really laughed at us .
It was all together an incredible dining experience. One among many.
The other night we were at the dingy hotel in our neighborhood which has our favorite restaurant on its rooftop. We go here regularly because it is really convenient, has a great atmosphere, and as in every other restaurant i have been to - the food is excellent. Like in every other restaurant there is always a gaggle of waitors doing pretty much nothing but serving our every need. Honestly there are always at least 10 or more waitors at each restaurant and usually like 3 tables of people. At this restuarant they are awkwardly formal and so sweet to us. They notice when our straw drops on the table and give us a new one, they serve each of the dishes on to our plates... They are used to us here, and we are used to them.
This night we tried an appetizer - a tandoori gobi dish. This means that it is cauliflower in a great spice, grilled up. Being the dairy fanatic that i am I was hoping we would order the cheese one, but was happy to have the cauliflower as well.
I HAVE NEVER HAD ANYTHING SO YUMMY IN MY WHOLE LIFE.
We were practically rolling on the floor it was so good. I cannot explain and I do not understand how cauliflower could ever taste this good. And I like cauliflower.
So while we are eating our gobi in awe one of our ten waitors stops by and asks if we like it. I said, as enthusiastically as i have ever said anything in my entire life, "I LOVE IT!!"
The waitor began to smile and then giggle and was then giggling uncontrollably. He left our table laughing the whole way.
Which is when i remembered that the word "love" is not necessarily used in this sense in different parts of the world. I realized that I think I basically just said that I would like to have sex with the cauliflower.
I think this is the first I have made an Indian really laugh. They find us very amusing just by existing and asking the dumb questions we ask, but this is the first that one has really really laughed at us .
It was all together an incredible dining experience. One among many.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Bollywood!
We saw our first indian film and I feel like I have never been to the movies until now! I think we might go to the movies at least like 3 times per week. It was that good.
And it definitely helps that it is air conditioned, in a fancy mall, and you can get dipped ice cream cones and popcorn. Also interesting is that there are assigned seats. So when you buy a ticket you have an actual seat. This is quite nice. So while in true Indian fashion everone waiting to get in the theatre is crowwded outside and pushing pushing pushing to hurry to get in. once inside everyone actually obeys their assigned seat.
And there is an intermission (called an interval) suddenly in the middle of the movie. Everyone gets up to get more snacks and then teh movie starts back up just as suddenly while half the audience is still out refililng.
Okay - so the movie.
It was a brand new feature called "Hello". All in Hindi, no subtitles, but occasional english phrases such as "no problem". You might think this would be a problem, but figuring out who is in love with who is fortunately not that hard. and fortunately for us, one of our party had befriended an actual indian so she translated some key parts for us after the movie. (such as what god said when he called them on their cell phone).
Okay - so the movie again.
It was FABULOUS! I have never seen something so FABULOUS! and i dont really use the adjective fabulous.
Constant music videos with buff indian men dancing (again like a bunch of homos) and Indian and western women doing scandalous dance moves as well. These music videos occurr throughout the movie and are quite entertaining and over the top. I usually and not that good with musicals but this is different. Such eye candy. and they are more intricate and wild than any music video i have seen. Full of random things like when they go on a coffee break there are women in ballet outfits getting down and soaring through the air.
The movie revolved around a call center and mercilessly made fun of all the americans calling with stupid questions. All the americans had pet dogs that were either really really big or really small. This was hilarious and fun and even better ws that all of the americans were really brits or australian, etc. Quite fitting as american movies use brown people interchangeably all the time.
We have already picked out three more bollywood films we must see.
Next time maybe Ill snack on a samosa or a dosa instead of popcorn.
I can hardly wait!
And it definitely helps that it is air conditioned, in a fancy mall, and you can get dipped ice cream cones and popcorn. Also interesting is that there are assigned seats. So when you buy a ticket you have an actual seat. This is quite nice. So while in true Indian fashion everone waiting to get in the theatre is crowwded outside and pushing pushing pushing to hurry to get in. once inside everyone actually obeys their assigned seat.
And there is an intermission (called an interval) suddenly in the middle of the movie. Everyone gets up to get more snacks and then teh movie starts back up just as suddenly while half the audience is still out refililng.
Okay - so the movie.
It was a brand new feature called "Hello". All in Hindi, no subtitles, but occasional english phrases such as "no problem". You might think this would be a problem, but figuring out who is in love with who is fortunately not that hard. and fortunately for us, one of our party had befriended an actual indian so she translated some key parts for us after the movie. (such as what god said when he called them on their cell phone).
Okay - so the movie again.
It was FABULOUS! I have never seen something so FABULOUS! and i dont really use the adjective fabulous.
Constant music videos with buff indian men dancing (again like a bunch of homos) and Indian and western women doing scandalous dance moves as well. These music videos occurr throughout the movie and are quite entertaining and over the top. I usually and not that good with musicals but this is different. Such eye candy. and they are more intricate and wild than any music video i have seen. Full of random things like when they go on a coffee break there are women in ballet outfits getting down and soaring through the air.
The movie revolved around a call center and mercilessly made fun of all the americans calling with stupid questions. All the americans had pet dogs that were either really really big or really small. This was hilarious and fun and even better ws that all of the americans were really brits or australian, etc. Quite fitting as american movies use brown people interchangeably all the time.
We have already picked out three more bollywood films we must see.
Next time maybe Ill snack on a samosa or a dosa instead of popcorn.
I can hardly wait!
Sunday, October 12, 2008
A bunch of homos and a parade!
If you didnt know any better you would think that Indian men were all a bunch of homos. Which of course, i absolutely LOVE.
Indian men are more feminine than the typical american man. I know many of you know this as I was aware of before I came, but it is so different to actually witness it. They are of course slighter in build, but it is also their gestures and their manner of speech that are softer.
Also, affection between men is very common. So I often see men walking down the street holding hands (or even better holding on to just a couple fingers of the other guy). Or the waitors in the restaurants (they are always men and there are always a gaggle of them with nothing to do) hanging on eachother, touching eachother, actually feeding eachother with their hands, or just being intimate in ways that you would never see back home.
This is the case even with young, hip men who dress in western clothes. They have their arms around each other, lean their heads into one another - and this is not just for a photo.
Last week there was a holiday - durga puja (it has multiple names which seems to be a theme here). It has something to do with the good winning out over evil. Seems like a worthy celebration right? The celebration entailed fireworks in the street, loud music and parades, and lots and lots of marigold garlands everywhere. We went out to watch some of the parades of floats heading towards the temple.
The first float was a small one with kids on it and little boys dancing in the street in front of the float. Then came a very large float with a generator in the car attached to the back. This float was tall, and the electrical wires in pune are quite low. So the wires get caught on the goddess figure on the float. But as ingenious and prepared for this obviously expected event, the Indians have a tall stick with a Y at the end like a slingshot that they use to lift the wires off the float and throw out of the way. Oh india. Meanwhile fireworks are going off everywhere and still the traffic is everywhere! Anyway Im getting distracted.
So - there was a hip dj on the float, and a couple indian men dancing on the float next to the gods. The music was loud and bumping, and the men on the float were fabulous and really getting down. This was not a pride parade, and no one was drinking! I LOVE that it is men that dance on the floates! In the street preceding the float was a large group of men dancing. Really dancing - and they were great dancers! Lots of hip action, and modern dancing with an Indian touch. Hard to describe but very pleasing to watch. One of my new bffs - Aaron - was pulled out into the dancing men. Where they proceeded to hold hands with him and dance with him and then freak him. This was the greatest moment yet. First - no one would dare pull a woman out into the street so I never had to worry about having to decline or being harrassed in any way. and secondly - how fun to watch our american friend out dancing in the street all touchy feely with the indian men!
And when they break from dancing they have their arms around eachother and they whisper into each other's ears.
So while being a real homo in India is severely unacceptable, it is nice to walk around and feel like im surrounded by a big homo indian family. But even when i think about how they are not gay, it is still just as great - to see this different version of men. Where intimacy and affection between men is normal. It is most refreshing and intriguing and always makes me like India.
Indian men are more feminine than the typical american man. I know many of you know this as I was aware of before I came, but it is so different to actually witness it. They are of course slighter in build, but it is also their gestures and their manner of speech that are softer.
Also, affection between men is very common. So I often see men walking down the street holding hands (or even better holding on to just a couple fingers of the other guy). Or the waitors in the restaurants (they are always men and there are always a gaggle of them with nothing to do) hanging on eachother, touching eachother, actually feeding eachother with their hands, or just being intimate in ways that you would never see back home.
This is the case even with young, hip men who dress in western clothes. They have their arms around each other, lean their heads into one another - and this is not just for a photo.
Last week there was a holiday - durga puja (it has multiple names which seems to be a theme here). It has something to do with the good winning out over evil. Seems like a worthy celebration right? The celebration entailed fireworks in the street, loud music and parades, and lots and lots of marigold garlands everywhere. We went out to watch some of the parades of floats heading towards the temple.
The first float was a small one with kids on it and little boys dancing in the street in front of the float. Then came a very large float with a generator in the car attached to the back. This float was tall, and the electrical wires in pune are quite low. So the wires get caught on the goddess figure on the float. But as ingenious and prepared for this obviously expected event, the Indians have a tall stick with a Y at the end like a slingshot that they use to lift the wires off the float and throw out of the way. Oh india. Meanwhile fireworks are going off everywhere and still the traffic is everywhere! Anyway Im getting distracted.
So - there was a hip dj on the float, and a couple indian men dancing on the float next to the gods. The music was loud and bumping, and the men on the float were fabulous and really getting down. This was not a pride parade, and no one was drinking! I LOVE that it is men that dance on the floates! In the street preceding the float was a large group of men dancing. Really dancing - and they were great dancers! Lots of hip action, and modern dancing with an Indian touch. Hard to describe but very pleasing to watch. One of my new bffs - Aaron - was pulled out into the dancing men. Where they proceeded to hold hands with him and dance with him and then freak him. This was the greatest moment yet. First - no one would dare pull a woman out into the street so I never had to worry about having to decline or being harrassed in any way. and secondly - how fun to watch our american friend out dancing in the street all touchy feely with the indian men!
And when they break from dancing they have their arms around eachother and they whisper into each other's ears.
So while being a real homo in India is severely unacceptable, it is nice to walk around and feel like im surrounded by a big homo indian family. But even when i think about how they are not gay, it is still just as great - to see this different version of men. Where intimacy and affection between men is normal. It is most refreshing and intriguing and always makes me like India.
Friday, October 10, 2008
The toilets!
I know you are dying to know.
So, as many of you know, toilet paper is not a custom in India.
Instead you will find in every bathroom a spigot with a bucket and a little pour cup in the bucket.
As obnoxious americans, my new found friends and I feel obligated to talk about teh toilet customs at every opportunity.
Here is how we figure it works. You dip the cup in the bucket of water and then use your hand (once presumably?) to splash yourself. This is of course your left hand. Then you let your underwear dry you off. For #2 this seems a little more difficult - we presume that if necessary you can pour teh cup of water over your bum. The idea of this brings such vivid images of us walking out of a bathroom with our pants soaked in water that we cannot help but have laughing fits when considering it. (yes, as i said we are obnoxious americans).
So, we avoid it all together and fortunatly tp is not hard to buy here. I carry with me faithfully and hope for a toilet when i need one. Toilets are particularly hard to find, many restaurants, etc do not have them. This fear of needing a toilet when one is not available is really not good for our states of hydration but we are quickly adjusting.
The toilet of the institute gives two choices: one is a regular toilet and one is a pit toilet. Of course you are more interested in the pit toilet. The pit toilet is a hole in the floor which you squat over. But this is not the good part. The good part is that there is a flip down seat attached to the wall. But it gets even better - the flip down toilet seat is very high up! So using the seat (even for a tall american) would entail hoisting yourself up there. I am not kidding. This would require at least a small jump and some arm strength. and a little hop down. For some reason the idea of peeing from up there gives me great joy. It is like being on the highdive.
One more complicating factor in this image is that the floor is wet. I try really hard to never question that this is just water. And of course shoes are not allowed inside of the building so you are barefoot. You are then able to wash your feet with a spigot in the bathroom area.
As some of you know, my favorite nightmares have to do with bathrooms. So now i have great additional material to fuel these reoccuring dreams! And being the prissy american that i fully own up to being, I am planning to never have to use the bathroom. So far this has affected my yoga practice only slightly. I cringe for the day when I come out of an inversion and just have to do it. I am sure it will be perfectly pleasant and i will realize what a shmuck I am for being such a toilet snob.
Well what do you know. Before I was even able to post this blog entry i was forced to christen the toilet at the institute. It was unavoidable. It was okay, but not enjoyable and really i think it's best if i try not to harp on the different definitions of "clean" that we have in the US and the definition that they have here.
So, as many of you know, toilet paper is not a custom in India.
Instead you will find in every bathroom a spigot with a bucket and a little pour cup in the bucket.
As obnoxious americans, my new found friends and I feel obligated to talk about teh toilet customs at every opportunity.
Here is how we figure it works. You dip the cup in the bucket of water and then use your hand (once presumably?) to splash yourself. This is of course your left hand. Then you let your underwear dry you off. For #2 this seems a little more difficult - we presume that if necessary you can pour teh cup of water over your bum. The idea of this brings such vivid images of us walking out of a bathroom with our pants soaked in water that we cannot help but have laughing fits when considering it. (yes, as i said we are obnoxious americans).
So, we avoid it all together and fortunatly tp is not hard to buy here. I carry with me faithfully and hope for a toilet when i need one. Toilets are particularly hard to find, many restaurants, etc do not have them. This fear of needing a toilet when one is not available is really not good for our states of hydration but we are quickly adjusting.
The toilet of the institute gives two choices: one is a regular toilet and one is a pit toilet. Of course you are more interested in the pit toilet. The pit toilet is a hole in the floor which you squat over. But this is not the good part. The good part is that there is a flip down seat attached to the wall. But it gets even better - the flip down toilet seat is very high up! So using the seat (even for a tall american) would entail hoisting yourself up there. I am not kidding. This would require at least a small jump and some arm strength. and a little hop down. For some reason the idea of peeing from up there gives me great joy. It is like being on the highdive.
One more complicating factor in this image is that the floor is wet. I try really hard to never question that this is just water. And of course shoes are not allowed inside of the building so you are barefoot. You are then able to wash your feet with a spigot in the bathroom area.
As some of you know, my favorite nightmares have to do with bathrooms. So now i have great additional material to fuel these reoccuring dreams! And being the prissy american that i fully own up to being, I am planning to never have to use the bathroom. So far this has affected my yoga practice only slightly. I cringe for the day when I come out of an inversion and just have to do it. I am sure it will be perfectly pleasant and i will realize what a shmuck I am for being such a toilet snob.
Well what do you know. Before I was even able to post this blog entry i was forced to christen the toilet at the institute. It was unavoidable. It was okay, but not enjoyable and really i think it's best if i try not to harp on the different definitions of "clean" that we have in the US and the definition that they have here.
Indian rules of the road
So, I know that a few of you are transportation enthusiasts and thought you might be fascinated by the rules of the road here in india. I certainly am... here is what i have picked up on after two weeks in pune.
Rule #1: Drive on the left side of the road.
That is unless the left side is too crowded, or you dont feel like driving on the left side, then by all means drive on the right side of the road.
Rule #2: If there is any moving vehicle in front of you, always try to pass it. This may require driving on the right side of the road when opposing traffic is present, but this is perfectly acceptable.
(This passing rule also seems to apply to any time you are standing in some sort of 'line'. Do not ever stand in line, just try to be first.)
Rule #3: Honk constantly. In fact, many of the trucks have signs on the back of them reminding you to do so (Honk please!). Honk at all the vehicles you see, all the pedestrians you see, and even if you see none at all (quite impossible in Pune) honk repeatedly.
Rule #4: Non-motorized vehicles: this includes bicycles, large push carts to sell fruit or coconut juice, pedestrians, cows, goats, pigs, donkeys and of course dogs. Please join the traffic in the middle of the road. There is no reason to stay to the side of the lane, just jump on in and join the fun!
Rule #5: Signaling. When turning you can stick your hand out, but better yet just honk and cut across traffic. You may need to swerve around oncoming traffic and weave your way across the lane. This is normal.
Rule #6: Pedestrians: Do not attempt to walk on the sidewalk. There are piles of shit the size of footballs and large holes (often times with small children digging in them - i like to imagine they are just playing, not actually day laborers :( ) Walk on the street with the rest of traffic.
Rule #7: Crossing the street. Your best bet is to try to follow an indian. If this is not possible, hopefully you are of the generation that had some experience playing frogger. Always remember: you never, ever, in any situation have the right away as a pedestrian. Eye contact with a driver means get the f out of the way. You must just go for it, do not waiver or balk, walk at an even pace so the drivers can time their swerving, and hope for the best.
Rule #8: Riding in a rickshaw. These are quite fun once you let go of fear of death (one of the vrittis for you yogis). It is like a toy car. Hold on, do not let your limbs hang outside of the vehicle, and enjoy. And as always, where ever you go, have the correct change!
The streets in Pune are really something to watch. Especially the circle intersections which have no lights, and appear to not have any logic. There are honestly cars and rickshaws and motos going every direction. Motos and bikes often feel fine driving on the opposite side of the road near the sidewalk. Rickshaws often use the other lane without hesitation or just drive in the middle. There really are cows and goats and pigs in the road, and im talking about real busy roads, not little side roads. The bicycles really do ride down the middle and the vehicles swerve around them! It is a wonder just to stand there and watch. Like a puzzle really, for my western brain to try to see the logic and order in the mayhem. Quite amazing.
Rule #1: Drive on the left side of the road.
That is unless the left side is too crowded, or you dont feel like driving on the left side, then by all means drive on the right side of the road.
Rule #2: If there is any moving vehicle in front of you, always try to pass it. This may require driving on the right side of the road when opposing traffic is present, but this is perfectly acceptable.
(This passing rule also seems to apply to any time you are standing in some sort of 'line'. Do not ever stand in line, just try to be first.)
Rule #3: Honk constantly. In fact, many of the trucks have signs on the back of them reminding you to do so (Honk please!). Honk at all the vehicles you see, all the pedestrians you see, and even if you see none at all (quite impossible in Pune) honk repeatedly.
Rule #4: Non-motorized vehicles: this includes bicycles, large push carts to sell fruit or coconut juice, pedestrians, cows, goats, pigs, donkeys and of course dogs. Please join the traffic in the middle of the road. There is no reason to stay to the side of the lane, just jump on in and join the fun!
Rule #5: Signaling. When turning you can stick your hand out, but better yet just honk and cut across traffic. You may need to swerve around oncoming traffic and weave your way across the lane. This is normal.
Rule #6: Pedestrians: Do not attempt to walk on the sidewalk. There are piles of shit the size of footballs and large holes (often times with small children digging in them - i like to imagine they are just playing, not actually day laborers :( ) Walk on the street with the rest of traffic.
Rule #7: Crossing the street. Your best bet is to try to follow an indian. If this is not possible, hopefully you are of the generation that had some experience playing frogger. Always remember: you never, ever, in any situation have the right away as a pedestrian. Eye contact with a driver means get the f out of the way. You must just go for it, do not waiver or balk, walk at an even pace so the drivers can time their swerving, and hope for the best.
Rule #8: Riding in a rickshaw. These are quite fun once you let go of fear of death (one of the vrittis for you yogis). It is like a toy car. Hold on, do not let your limbs hang outside of the vehicle, and enjoy. And as always, where ever you go, have the correct change!
The streets in Pune are really something to watch. Especially the circle intersections which have no lights, and appear to not have any logic. There are honestly cars and rickshaws and motos going every direction. Motos and bikes often feel fine driving on the opposite side of the road near the sidewalk. Rickshaws often use the other lane without hesitation or just drive in the middle. There really are cows and goats and pigs in the road, and im talking about real busy roads, not little side roads. The bicycles really do ride down the middle and the vehicles swerve around them! It is a wonder just to stand there and watch. Like a puzzle really, for my western brain to try to see the logic and order in the mayhem. Quite amazing.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
About my blog and my first week in india
I think that the most foreign thing that i have done thus far in india is create a blog! I know you thought I would never do it and neither did I, and it is actually making me nervous! More nervous than riding in the crazy rickshaws and crossing the insane streets of Pune.
So, a little bit about my blog:
1. There will be no pictures. I will tell you about the internet cafes (better named internet holes) later on.
2. I will be posting infrequently im sure.
3. There will be typos and other annoying errors. As referenced above the internet holes are hard to come by and not all that pleasant, and the keys stick. So I will not be editing!
4. There will most definitely be some discussion of toilets and bodily functions. I cannot imagine my blog not including this.
5. I will make a lot of pronouncements about life in India and Indians. Of course this is ridiculous as I have only lived here as an ethnocentric american for such a short time and have no right to make ignorant, probably completely false pronouncements and judgements. I will do it anyway!
Let me start by giving you an idea of what i am doing here.
First off I will start off by reminding you that i am NOT living in an ashram. So if you are expecting to read about a peaceful life meditating in an ashram with quiet hours and such, then I recommend you pick up a copy of eatpraylove. I live in a simple but beautiful apartment that is about a ten minute walk from the institute where I take classes. My roommate Natasha and I get to walk through the park to get to class. This is lovely because the streets of Pune are so loud and the pollution is so bad. I do about 5 hours of yoga a day - 2 hours of class and 3 hours of practice.
The institute is a humble building where we squash about 60 - 70 people in mat to mat for classes and practice. The noise of the street is not far away, and often while in poses you have a foot in your face or a butt over your head. It is amazing to be in the presence of the most amazing teachers in the world, but it is a challenge. I have not quite reached enlightenment yet, but maybe that will come after I stop pining for people to get the f out of my space. Don't get me wrong, I am not complaining. It is all quite as i expected. No one comes to study with the Iyengars expecting to be pampered. But i found that before i left, most people have the image of studying yoga in india as being a retreat in some sort of meditational resort. Pune is quite the opposite!
Now let me tell you about some of my favorite things in india!
1. Our building attendant. His name is Indra (i think) and he is from Nepal. He tells us namaste every time we come and go throughout the day (which is about 15). We converse quite regularly which is always interesting as he speaks no english whatsoever.
2. Our landlord Karishma. She is quite opinionated about everything and scolds us mercilessly. (NO NO Jessie!) She is like our bossy fairy godmother and we call her every time we cannot figure out something indian.
3. Our maid Swarma. Having a maid is also one of my least favorite things as I am paranoid about her cleaning the toilet with my toothbrush while we are gone. So we ply her with chocolates in hopes that she will like us and not play mean tricks on us.
4. The grocery stores. The supermarkets are stalls on the street and you stand at the counter and say "Do you have... dental floss?" as clearly as possible and smile hopefully that they know what dental floss is and can understand your insane accent while speaking english and that their little store actually has it. And the thing is they always do! they wag their heads and wander into the back and come back wth dental floss! It is such a different way of shopping. You shop for what you need, not what you see because you cannot see what they have. We are always surprised and delighted when they come back with what we want. And, we do not even have to make a decision about what to buy as they pick it out for you! i love it.
5. The head bobble. It is most like the little toy dogs in the back of taxi cabs in chicago. It is an art that I am determined to master. It means yes, or no, or i dont know, or maybe, or i hear you. It is a constant. everyone is wagging their heads all the time. It is impossible not to wag your head back at them.
okay im getting kicked off the internet hole, so this is it. stay tuned and i will tell you all about the toilets next time!
So, a little bit about my blog:
1. There will be no pictures. I will tell you about the internet cafes (better named internet holes) later on.
2. I will be posting infrequently im sure.
3. There will be typos and other annoying errors. As referenced above the internet holes are hard to come by and not all that pleasant, and the keys stick. So I will not be editing!
4. There will most definitely be some discussion of toilets and bodily functions. I cannot imagine my blog not including this.
5. I will make a lot of pronouncements about life in India and Indians. Of course this is ridiculous as I have only lived here as an ethnocentric american for such a short time and have no right to make ignorant, probably completely false pronouncements and judgements. I will do it anyway!
Let me start by giving you an idea of what i am doing here.
First off I will start off by reminding you that i am NOT living in an ashram. So if you are expecting to read about a peaceful life meditating in an ashram with quiet hours and such, then I recommend you pick up a copy of eatpraylove. I live in a simple but beautiful apartment that is about a ten minute walk from the institute where I take classes. My roommate Natasha and I get to walk through the park to get to class. This is lovely because the streets of Pune are so loud and the pollution is so bad. I do about 5 hours of yoga a day - 2 hours of class and 3 hours of practice.
The institute is a humble building where we squash about 60 - 70 people in mat to mat for classes and practice. The noise of the street is not far away, and often while in poses you have a foot in your face or a butt over your head. It is amazing to be in the presence of the most amazing teachers in the world, but it is a challenge. I have not quite reached enlightenment yet, but maybe that will come after I stop pining for people to get the f out of my space. Don't get me wrong, I am not complaining. It is all quite as i expected. No one comes to study with the Iyengars expecting to be pampered. But i found that before i left, most people have the image of studying yoga in india as being a retreat in some sort of meditational resort. Pune is quite the opposite!
Now let me tell you about some of my favorite things in india!
1. Our building attendant. His name is Indra (i think) and he is from Nepal. He tells us namaste every time we come and go throughout the day (which is about 15). We converse quite regularly which is always interesting as he speaks no english whatsoever.
2. Our landlord Karishma. She is quite opinionated about everything and scolds us mercilessly. (NO NO Jessie!) She is like our bossy fairy godmother and we call her every time we cannot figure out something indian.
3. Our maid Swarma. Having a maid is also one of my least favorite things as I am paranoid about her cleaning the toilet with my toothbrush while we are gone. So we ply her with chocolates in hopes that she will like us and not play mean tricks on us.
4. The grocery stores. The supermarkets are stalls on the street and you stand at the counter and say "Do you have... dental floss?" as clearly as possible and smile hopefully that they know what dental floss is and can understand your insane accent while speaking english and that their little store actually has it. And the thing is they always do! they wag their heads and wander into the back and come back wth dental floss! It is such a different way of shopping. You shop for what you need, not what you see because you cannot see what they have. We are always surprised and delighted when they come back with what we want. And, we do not even have to make a decision about what to buy as they pick it out for you! i love it.
5. The head bobble. It is most like the little toy dogs in the back of taxi cabs in chicago. It is an art that I am determined to master. It means yes, or no, or i dont know, or maybe, or i hear you. It is a constant. everyone is wagging their heads all the time. It is impossible not to wag your head back at them.
okay im getting kicked off the internet hole, so this is it. stay tuned and i will tell you all about the toilets next time!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)