This is the second of two blogs about our 5 days spent living with a national family. You should go read the first one.
WARNING: THIS BLOG CONTAINS A LONG STORY ABOUT POOP. Yup, that's right, poop. I'm sorry, but I live in South Asia, where we discuss our bodily functions as if we were discussing the weather. This was bound to happen eventually. You have been warned.
But first some other things. The Barois have a nice house just a short distance from the town center of Shavar. It was quiet and peaceful, and we had our own rooms for the first time in almost 2 months. In addition to the wedding, we went to church with them, participated in their family devotions, met some of their friends, watched soap operas in Bangla, as well as the weddings of their two oldest sons on DVD, and enjoyed pleasant strolls through the village. On one such walk, we overheard the following conversation between two little boys, who had probably never seen a westerner in their lives:
Boy 1 (in Bangla): What is that?
Boy 2 (gasps): Bideshi! (Foreigner!)
We also shared every meal with them. Mr. and Mrs. Baroi kept insisting that we eat more and more and nothing we did or said could convince them that was absolutely impossible. As a result, we probably each consumed enough rice for two people at every meal. Melinda finally asked Mr. Baroi how to say that we were full, but unfortunately, not before we clogged the toilet.
The house was a new construction, only 4 or 5 months old, and we don't think the toilets were installed correctly, because they were having water pressures issues from the beginning. We hoped that maybe if we just kept flushing, the poop would go down, but eventually we realized it was not going to happen. Then we set out to inquire if there was a plunger in the house. Mr. Baroi speaks good English, but he had never heard of a plunger. He thought it was a part of the toilet itself. Melinda drew a picture, a picture of a plunger. It was epic. It didn't help at all. When Melinda tried to explain that the toilet wasn't broken, it just wouldn't flush, Mrs. Baroi thought we just didn't know how to flush it. She offered to demonstrate. I called our language coordinator, who had set up the home-stay to see if she could help. She didn't answer the phone, so I had to call her husband, at 10 o'clock at night, and explain the situation. He says it's one of the best questions he's ever been asked. Great. Finally, we had to just show our "parents" the toilet, at which point they called a plumber, who was supposed to come the next morning. Mrs. Baroi poured water down the toilet until all the poop was gone, and I guess it worked as good as had before. They showed us another bathroom we could use until the plumber came. (It didn't work all that well either.) All this occurred on the same night as the wedding, after the sari wearing experience, and at the end of it all we all laughed harder than I have ever laughed before for probably 45 minutes. That's one way to bond.
The next day, Mrs. Baroi asked us if the toilet was fixed. Since the plumber had never come, we had been using another toilet, and so, Melinda told her we didn't know. Surprised pause. Mrs. Baroi cracked up laughing. Suddenly, I realized Mrs. Baroi assumed we hadn't used the restroom for a day and a half. (or maybe we'd gone somewhere else?) Melinda ran off to get Mr. Baroi to explain the situation once again, which was followed by more hysterical laughter.
Anyway, we had a great time, and I think the Barois enjoyed it too. We really would love to visit again some weekend. Here are some of the best quotes from the week:
Mr. Baroi: You cannot get the taste of the rice without eating with your hand.
Melinda (discussing the fact that was no hot water in the house): You like cold showers more than I do.
Me: Not when it's cold outside, and by that I mean... warm.
Melinda: If I can pee [while wearing] a sari, is there anything I cannot do?
Me (later that night): Apparently, the answer is: flush a toilet.
Mrs Baroi: (admiring Melinda's bright clothes): ... holud paki, holud paki.
Melinda (not understanding): Oh ok..
Me: She says you look like a yellow bird.
Melinda: Oh good, yesterday she said I looked like a red flower... unless she said fruit.
Me: Flowers and birds are nice.
And finally, Melinda's summary of our home-stay:
We eat every meal with them, with our hands, we watch Bangla tv, we drink tea until it comes out of our ears, and we pray for water.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Melinda and Sarah Celebrate Eid and a Wedding
Melinda and I are thinking of starting a series of Children's books. (Not seriously) We would call them the The Adventures of Melinda and Sarah. This one would be about parties.
This past Wednesday was Korbani Eid. This is Muslim holiday during which a cow, or goat if you have limited funds is sacrificed to atone for sins. We were invited to the home a Muslim friend for dinner. After you sacrifice, you have to do something with all that beef. Melinda and I did not attend the actual sacrifice, but we did witness the butchering of many many animals. I think I've now seen every organ and bone in a cow. We had a pretty good time. Our host was a multi-millionaire in dollars, and the family had a 6 story home with hand carved wood for the stair rail and on a wall, and wardrobes. There was a pool in the basement and a park for the daughter, as well as deer, and one cow that survived Eid. Azam, the father, sacrificed 5 cows and some goats. His wife did Mehindi on Melinda and I's hands, and we had a good time talking to her and her daughter. We had lunch and dinner with the family, and we watched as Azam and his house helpers passed out meat to the poor. You're supposed to keep 1/3 of the meat yourself, give 1/3 to family and friends, and give 1/3 to the poor.
The following day, we went to the village of Shavar to spend 5 days with a national family. Shavar is about 30 minutes outside of our city. We stayed with an older couple whose 3 sons have all left home. It was great. When we arrived, we discovered that our 'parents' had been invited to a wedding. Melinda managed to politely invite us as as well. Mr. and Mrs. Baroi were excited we wanted to come, but there was a dilemma. We had not brought any clothes suitable for a wedding. It was decided that we could borrow saris from Mrs. Baroi. The actual sari is just a super long piece of fabric that you wrap around yourself multiple times. It is the very definition of "one size fits all". The shirt that goes with it, however is more fitted. There followed several awkward moments of pinching and poking while Mrs. Baroi determined that there was no way her shirts would ever fit either of us. She is a tiny lady. Finally, she said we could wear chamises that we had brought and just tuck them into our petticoats. (The skirt that goes under the sari, into which the folds of fabric are tucked) On the day of the wedding, we donned our petticoats and shirts and then stood there while we were wrapped into 5 1/2 yards of fabric. (I'm not kidding.) Wearing a sari is terrifying. Nearly all that fabric is held up because it's been tucked into a petticoat that you tie around your waist as tightly as humanly possible. I spent the whole night worrying that it might somehow become untucked and fall to the floor. We were also given jewelry, the red dots women wear on their foreheads, and in my case, nice shoes to wear. Before we could get to the wedding, we had to get to a taxi. Since the house was in the village, we had to take a rickshaw to the main road. Getting into rickshaws in difficult while wearing pants... It was particularly interesting because Melinda wasn't sure if it was appropriate to let her ankles show. Mrs. Baroi solved that problem by hiking up Melinda's skirts (a little) and pushing her into the seat. I climbed in and we were off... slowly riding through town while everyone gaped at us. These people had seen even fewer foreigners then people who live in the city. As I was getting out of the rickshaw on the main road, one of the straps of my shoe broke. (It was not a new shoe) So, we were escorted to the taxi and (once again) shoved inside. Mrs. Baroi took my shoes and set off in search of someone to repair them. She returned 10 minutes (Or was it hours?) later and we were on our way. The wedding started at 4 and by this time it was 4:05. We were still 45 minutes away. Don't worry though, we arrived right before the ceremony started.
Side note: In the course of the evening, Melinda and I successfully used a squatty potty while wearing saris. I'm sure you don't want the details, so I won't provide them, but just imagine, if you can, trying to use the restroom while wearing 16 ft of slippery fabric, which might unravel at any moment. We felt accomplished. STILL feel accomplished.
After the ceremony, we proceeded to the reception. Melinda found a space where we could all sit together and dinner was served. There I was eating chicken and goat in orange sauce, and rice, with my hand, all in someone else's fancy sari. Everything was going well until Melinda asked for more water. Her glass was refilled, she set it on the table, and 2 seconds later it fell over, soaking me. It wasn't Melinda's fault. As it turns out, there a chunk missing from the table, conveniently hidden by table cloth until Melinda put her glass there.
We finished dinner and returned home. Thankfully, the taxi took us almost all the way to our house, so we didn't have to experience a rickshaw in the dark. Immediately upon arriving home, Melinda and I changed into more comfortable clothes and our "mom" enjoyed a good laugh over all of our escapades.
This past Wednesday was Korbani Eid. This is Muslim holiday during which a cow, or goat if you have limited funds is sacrificed to atone for sins. We were invited to the home a Muslim friend for dinner. After you sacrifice, you have to do something with all that beef. Melinda and I did not attend the actual sacrifice, but we did witness the butchering of many many animals. I think I've now seen every organ and bone in a cow. We had a pretty good time. Our host was a multi-millionaire in dollars, and the family had a 6 story home with hand carved wood for the stair rail and on a wall, and wardrobes. There was a pool in the basement and a park for the daughter, as well as deer, and one cow that survived Eid. Azam, the father, sacrificed 5 cows and some goats. His wife did Mehindi on Melinda and I's hands, and we had a good time talking to her and her daughter. We had lunch and dinner with the family, and we watched as Azam and his house helpers passed out meat to the poor. You're supposed to keep 1/3 of the meat yourself, give 1/3 to family and friends, and give 1/3 to the poor.
The following day, we went to the village of Shavar to spend 5 days with a national family. Shavar is about 30 minutes outside of our city. We stayed with an older couple whose 3 sons have all left home. It was great. When we arrived, we discovered that our 'parents' had been invited to a wedding. Melinda managed to politely invite us as as well. Mr. and Mrs. Baroi were excited we wanted to come, but there was a dilemma. We had not brought any clothes suitable for a wedding. It was decided that we could borrow saris from Mrs. Baroi. The actual sari is just a super long piece of fabric that you wrap around yourself multiple times. It is the very definition of "one size fits all". The shirt that goes with it, however is more fitted. There followed several awkward moments of pinching and poking while Mrs. Baroi determined that there was no way her shirts would ever fit either of us. She is a tiny lady. Finally, she said we could wear chamises that we had brought and just tuck them into our petticoats. (The skirt that goes under the sari, into which the folds of fabric are tucked) On the day of the wedding, we donned our petticoats and shirts and then stood there while we were wrapped into 5 1/2 yards of fabric. (I'm not kidding.) Wearing a sari is terrifying. Nearly all that fabric is held up because it's been tucked into a petticoat that you tie around your waist as tightly as humanly possible. I spent the whole night worrying that it might somehow become untucked and fall to the floor. We were also given jewelry, the red dots women wear on their foreheads, and in my case, nice shoes to wear. Before we could get to the wedding, we had to get to a taxi. Since the house was in the village, we had to take a rickshaw to the main road. Getting into rickshaws in difficult while wearing pants... It was particularly interesting because Melinda wasn't sure if it was appropriate to let her ankles show. Mrs. Baroi solved that problem by hiking up Melinda's skirts (a little) and pushing her into the seat. I climbed in and we were off... slowly riding through town while everyone gaped at us. These people had seen even fewer foreigners then people who live in the city. As I was getting out of the rickshaw on the main road, one of the straps of my shoe broke. (It was not a new shoe) So, we were escorted to the taxi and (once again) shoved inside. Mrs. Baroi took my shoes and set off in search of someone to repair them. She returned 10 minutes (Or was it hours?) later and we were on our way. The wedding started at 4 and by this time it was 4:05. We were still 45 minutes away. Don't worry though, we arrived right before the ceremony started.
Side note: In the course of the evening, Melinda and I successfully used a squatty potty while wearing saris. I'm sure you don't want the details, so I won't provide them, but just imagine, if you can, trying to use the restroom while wearing 16 ft of slippery fabric, which might unravel at any moment. We felt accomplished. STILL feel accomplished.
After the ceremony, we proceeded to the reception. Melinda found a space where we could all sit together and dinner was served. There I was eating chicken and goat in orange sauce, and rice, with my hand, all in someone else's fancy sari. Everything was going well until Melinda asked for more water. Her glass was refilled, she set it on the table, and 2 seconds later it fell over, soaking me. It wasn't Melinda's fault. As it turns out, there a chunk missing from the table, conveniently hidden by table cloth until Melinda put her glass there.
We finished dinner and returned home. Thankfully, the taxi took us almost all the way to our house, so we didn't have to experience a rickshaw in the dark. Immediately upon arriving home, Melinda and I changed into more comfortable clothes and our "mom" enjoyed a good laugh over all of our escapades.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Someone Please Tell Me I'm on Candid Camera...
Today has been a day with one too many adventures. Melinda wasn't feeling well this morning so we got off to a late start. It took forever to find a taxi and we were finally on our way to school by by 7:40 as opposed to 7:15. The taxi got maybe 100 ft down the road stopped. It clearly have technical difficulties. ... (As you can see, though I'm nowhere near fluent in Bangla, I'm already forgetting English. Awesome.) Anyway, the driver got out and opened a hatch in the back, removed the accelerator wire and proceeded to string it through the taxi and tie it off up front. All the way across town, he had one hand on the steering wheel and one hand pulling the wire. Yup, we were literally pulled to school today. I'm super impressed the taxi made it up the overpass. It was very exciting and I learned that baby taxis are apparently indestructible, so that's encouraging.
After class, Melinda had a doctor's appointment at the International Centre for Diarrhoeal Disease Research. It has at least two clinics in the city, one of which ironically enough is housed at the American International School. AIS is by far the biggest, fanciest school I've ever set foot in. It was impressive and so very western I went through a minor bout of reverse culture shock in the middle of South Asia. All I know is, for the amount of money that must be spent on the building alone, those children better emerge with full scholarships to Stanford. After the appointment, we went to the tailor to pick up some pants we had made. I love tailors. I'm entirely too short for pre-made clothes and having them made only costs a couple extra dollars. I will definitely miss this when I come home. By then it was 12:15 and we decided to take a bicycle rickshaw for a short ride to lunch... or so we thought.
When you ride in a bicycle rickshaw you end up high up on cushion with a man on a bike pulling you slowly through town. Kind of like you're on a chariot or really old parade float. It makes you very conspicuous and I'm kind of tempted to do the pageant queen wave as I go by. This is why you only take them short distances. Today, Melinda and I passed another rickshaw with several guys in it. They asked if they could ride with us, even though clearly, there was no room on either seat. I thought "so... you want us to what? Sit on your laps? No thanks." Anyway, we were on our way from an area of town called Gulshan 1 to an area called Bonani. It should have taken maybe 10 minutes. Instead, our rickshaw puller decided to take us on the scenic tour of Gulshan. I'm pretty sure we covered every square inch of that district. Some parts twice. Finally, Melinda just started chanting the name Bonani and when we got somewhere we vaguely recognized we got off. It was an adventure! Remember how we set out at 12:15? We finally sat down to eat at 2.
I almost forgot to tell you the most exciting part of my day! Before that epic ride, we took a rickshaw from the doctor to the tailor. We had agreed to pay 50 taka, but it took longer then expected so the guy wanted 10 taka more. Not really a big deal, but sadly I failed to understand what he wanted. Melinda had already walked off toward the tailor. So, I gave the man 50 taka. He said something which I missed. The he handed me forty taka. That was really confusing because I was pretty sure he had not changed his mind and decided to accept a much lower price. He kept yelling the word "bangti" at me, which means "change". And all I could think was "I know you gave me change but what for?" Finally, Melinda realized I was not behind her, so she returned and asked "What's going on? What's going on?" I yelled, "I don't know! I wish I could explain what's happening, but I have no idea!" In the end, the rickshaw puller reached in my wallet and grabbed another 50 taka. Then it dawned on me, he wanted to make change with us. I probably should have figured this out before, but oh well, life goes on.
After class, Melinda had a doctor's appointment at the International Centre for Diarrhoeal Disease Research. It has at least two clinics in the city, one of which ironically enough is housed at the American International School. AIS is by far the biggest, fanciest school I've ever set foot in. It was impressive and so very western I went through a minor bout of reverse culture shock in the middle of South Asia. All I know is, for the amount of money that must be spent on the building alone, those children better emerge with full scholarships to Stanford. After the appointment, we went to the tailor to pick up some pants we had made. I love tailors. I'm entirely too short for pre-made clothes and having them made only costs a couple extra dollars. I will definitely miss this when I come home. By then it was 12:15 and we decided to take a bicycle rickshaw for a short ride to lunch... or so we thought.
When you ride in a bicycle rickshaw you end up high up on cushion with a man on a bike pulling you slowly through town. Kind of like you're on a chariot or really old parade float. It makes you very conspicuous and I'm kind of tempted to do the pageant queen wave as I go by. This is why you only take them short distances. Today, Melinda and I passed another rickshaw with several guys in it. They asked if they could ride with us, even though clearly, there was no room on either seat. I thought "so... you want us to what? Sit on your laps? No thanks." Anyway, we were on our way from an area of town called Gulshan 1 to an area called Bonani. It should have taken maybe 10 minutes. Instead, our rickshaw puller decided to take us on the scenic tour of Gulshan. I'm pretty sure we covered every square inch of that district. Some parts twice. Finally, Melinda just started chanting the name Bonani and when we got somewhere we vaguely recognized we got off. It was an adventure! Remember how we set out at 12:15? We finally sat down to eat at 2.
I almost forgot to tell you the most exciting part of my day! Before that epic ride, we took a rickshaw from the doctor to the tailor. We had agreed to pay 50 taka, but it took longer then expected so the guy wanted 10 taka more. Not really a big deal, but sadly I failed to understand what he wanted. Melinda had already walked off toward the tailor. So, I gave the man 50 taka. He said something which I missed. The he handed me forty taka. That was really confusing because I was pretty sure he had not changed his mind and decided to accept a much lower price. He kept yelling the word "bangti" at me, which means "change". And all I could think was "I know you gave me change but what for?" Finally, Melinda realized I was not behind her, so she returned and asked "What's going on? What's going on?" I yelled, "I don't know! I wish I could explain what's happening, but I have no idea!" In the end, the rickshaw puller reached in my wallet and grabbed another 50 taka. Then it dawned on me, he wanted to make change with us. I probably should have figured this out before, but oh well, life goes on.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Curse you, stupid plastic wrap!
Oh my gosh, it's been awhile. Since I last blogged, I have left Delhi and relocated to the city that my language school is in. I am now a student at HEED Language Center and I like it a lot. Class is from 8am-10am Sunday-Thursday. The teacher is super friendly and so enthusiastic it's hard not to be happy around him. That's a plus, since I have to wake up at 6:15 and I am decidedly NOT a morning person. Also, it takes about an hour to get to school in a baby taxi because the traffic is horrible. Add in the pollution, the blaring car horns, and the death defying maneuvers of the drivers, and I could see myself arriving in a less than pleasant mood. Probably, the scariest thing I've done so far is cross the road. Many of you may be breathing a sigh of relief, but that's only because you've never experienced traffic here. My roommate and I actually had a discussion about how drivers know which traffic lights to obey and which can be ignored. One the bright side, I've only been within inches of being crushed by a bus once. :) But then, I've only been here 3 weeks...
Let's see, what other exciting things have happened. Although, we live in a guesthouse with an excellent cook and laundry services, my roommate and I are trying hard to save money. So, we buy our own food and we wash our clothes by hand in the bathtub. I miss living at home. If at all possible, you should avoid hand-washing jeans and towels. Trust me on this. I know.
We've experienced bed bugs. That was great.
The internet service provider decided they'd rather provide service to a different part of the city.
And my computer crashed.
But don't worry. The bugs are gone for now. We have internet for now. AND most importantly, a friend of mine who lives here is currently in Oklahoma, so my parents picked out a new computer and it should be here in week or two! Hooray.
The people we've met here have been really friendly and helpful. I'm excited to be able to speak the language better and get to know more people. Recently, we started volunteering at a kind of community center for young girls who live in the slums. It’s a place where girls can come to get help with their homework, a meal, and just have a place to play and relax. They are so sweet, and they’re excited to help us learn too. After I helped one girl with her English homework, she read her Bangla lesson to me and made me repeat after her. I honestly, can’t tell you what I said or if I said it correctly, but my little teacher was very pleased.
People have absolutely no idea how old we are. Sunday night after church, we went to ask the pastor’s wife if it would be possible to practice with the praise team. The members are all young adults and we think it would be a good way to meet people. Unfortunately, our Bangla and her English were not good enough to get the point across. Instead, this wonderful woman thought we wanted to practice music with her. So, she taught to sing a children’s song and then to say “I love you.” At this point we began to try to disengage, but it was no use. We were stuck. During the course of the encounter, she stroked my hair, like I was a little child. Then she proceeded to say that I was her daughter and my roommate was her sister. Apparently, I look like I’m 12 and Melinda looks like she’s 30. (Which is definitely not true) Finally, she escorted us to the gate of the guesthouse and just before we made our escape… She tickled my chin. Yup it was great.
Melinda and I have kept an excellent sense of humor about us and have even started a quote book, which is the best pick-me-up ever.
This quote came from the guesthouse manager's five year old son: [Sarah] you're funny. Not the jokes you tell the things you do.
Also, in case you're interested, you can get a phone plan with "unlimited STDs". Still haven't figured out what that means...
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Haridwar and the Commonwealth Games
I know you've all been glued to your computers waiting for my next post. So, here it is, a mere day and a half after the last one. (You should all try visualizing someone whose face is literally glued to their computer screen... It made me laugh... Twice.)
Anyway, last Saturday we went to the city of Haridwar, which is on the Ganges River and has an important Hindu temple, along with a huge Shiva statue. Shiva is said to be the destroyer god, but he also brings about rebirth, and the Ganges is supposed to flow down his hair. (River... rebirth... and all that). The Ganges was not as nasty as I expected it to be, but I'm told it gets worse at more important holy sites like Varanasi. We saw people swimming, drinking the water, washing their clothes, and there were idols in it too, among other things. There was no sign of the alleged red skin eating sludge though. In any case, I opted not to get in the water. The temple was high up in the mountains, and we took a gondola up there. It was like getting in a Ferris Wheel at Frontier City. We wandered around, looked at all the gods, and then made our way back out. Before you can leave, you have to walk by all the vendors that sell everything from tiny idols, to jewelry with scriptures on it, to Hannah Montana toys. Not to mention "Famous American Corn". The lines to the exit are long and narrow. They have to be narrow otherwise there would be no such thing as a "line," it would be a huge number of people all crowding their way on to gondolas. At one point, we saw the "emergency exit". It was a door that opened off the side of a cliff. I guess the idea is to gauge the emergency and decide if there's a chance you might survive, or if you should just leap off and die faster. Mercifully, we did not have to make such a decision.
Yesterday, we went to the Commonwealth Games. It's kind of like the Olympics for former members of the British Commonwealth. There was a choice between Badminton and Squash. I chose Badminton because I could not imagine anyone taking that game seriously. So, my friend and I set out. We walked quite some distance before we found a baby taxi to take us the rest of the way. Or so we thought... Our driver took us exactly 3 blocks, before arriving the athletes entrance to the game. Obviously, this was not where we wanted to be and we tried everything to convince our driver of that fact, but he would not believe us. He even brought over others to confirm his wrong opinion. Finally, out of options, we got out and continued on foot. What should have been a 5 minute ride, took us an hour and twenty minutes to walk. Then we went though security. The policewoman patted me down and then for some unknown reason took my hand and put it behind my back. Just one hand. She proceeded to move my hand from place to place on my back and twist me around, all the while speaking to me in Hindi, clearly expecting me to do what she said. It was really frustrating. My thought process went something like this:
Do you see me? White skin, blond hair, REALLY confused expression? Obviously, I don't understand and I have nothing remotely dangerous with me.
Finally, she let go of my hand. I don't know if we were done or not. I was still confused, so I just left. Eventually, we made it to venue and since we had just walked forever we brought drinks. After entering the stadium and walking up to our seats, we were told there was no food or drinks allowed and had to go back out. After chugging our drinks, we re-entered the stadium, and finally got to watch some Badminton. All I can say is, I'm sure it's much harder than it looks. We watched India beat Malaysia and England beat Canada in the quarter finals. The audience was really into the India game. It was actually fun. Afterward, exhausted, we took the first baby taxi we saw, and paid him way too much. We were just grateful we made it all the way home in a vehicle. Bring on the unique experiences!
Anyway, last Saturday we went to the city of Haridwar, which is on the Ganges River and has an important Hindu temple, along with a huge Shiva statue. Shiva is said to be the destroyer god, but he also brings about rebirth, and the Ganges is supposed to flow down his hair. (River... rebirth... and all that). The Ganges was not as nasty as I expected it to be, but I'm told it gets worse at more important holy sites like Varanasi. We saw people swimming, drinking the water, washing their clothes, and there were idols in it too, among other things. There was no sign of the alleged red skin eating sludge though. In any case, I opted not to get in the water. The temple was high up in the mountains, and we took a gondola up there. It was like getting in a Ferris Wheel at Frontier City. We wandered around, looked at all the gods, and then made our way back out. Before you can leave, you have to walk by all the vendors that sell everything from tiny idols, to jewelry with scriptures on it, to Hannah Montana toys. Not to mention "Famous American Corn". The lines to the exit are long and narrow. They have to be narrow otherwise there would be no such thing as a "line," it would be a huge number of people all crowding their way on to gondolas. At one point, we saw the "emergency exit". It was a door that opened off the side of a cliff. I guess the idea is to gauge the emergency and decide if there's a chance you might survive, or if you should just leap off and die faster. Mercifully, we did not have to make such a decision.
Yesterday, we went to the Commonwealth Games. It's kind of like the Olympics for former members of the British Commonwealth. There was a choice between Badminton and Squash. I chose Badminton because I could not imagine anyone taking that game seriously. So, my friend and I set out. We walked quite some distance before we found a baby taxi to take us the rest of the way. Or so we thought... Our driver took us exactly 3 blocks, before arriving the athletes entrance to the game. Obviously, this was not where we wanted to be and we tried everything to convince our driver of that fact, but he would not believe us. He even brought over others to confirm his wrong opinion. Finally, out of options, we got out and continued on foot. What should have been a 5 minute ride, took us an hour and twenty minutes to walk. Then we went though security. The policewoman patted me down and then for some unknown reason took my hand and put it behind my back. Just one hand. She proceeded to move my hand from place to place on my back and twist me around, all the while speaking to me in Hindi, clearly expecting me to do what she said. It was really frustrating. My thought process went something like this:
Do you see me? White skin, blond hair, REALLY confused expression? Obviously, I don't understand and I have nothing remotely dangerous with me.
Finally, she let go of my hand. I don't know if we were done or not. I was still confused, so I just left. Eventually, we made it to venue and since we had just walked forever we brought drinks. After entering the stadium and walking up to our seats, we were told there was no food or drinks allowed and had to go back out. After chugging our drinks, we re-entered the stadium, and finally got to watch some Badminton. All I can say is, I'm sure it's much harder than it looks. We watched India beat Malaysia and England beat Canada in the quarter finals. The audience was really into the India game. It was actually fun. Afterward, exhausted, we took the first baby taxi we saw, and paid him way too much. We were just grateful we made it all the way home in a vehicle. Bring on the unique experiences!
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Overload
My mind is melting. I have so many things to blog about, I don't know what to blog about. This week I've been exploring. I went to a Hindu temple and a Baha'i temple. The Baha'i temple was called the Lotus Temple and really was shaped like a huge flower. Baha'i is a religion that combines everything basically. All religions lead to the same place and if we can unite them all, then we'll reach perfection or something like that. Honestly, I've never understood that philosophy. Religions are all so different, how could they lead to the same end?
This week was all about using public transportation. I think I've got baby taxis down. Below is a picture of one, which I found on Google. You can fit 3 people in there, and it zooms around like a go-kart, and it's fairly cheap.
I also rode the train and the metro. I rode the metro Friday, I think. (I don't have cell phone, so I struggle to remember the date, day, or time...) Anyway, my friends and I were leaving the Lotus Temple and we couldn't get a baby taxi take us home for a good price. So, finally we saw a metro station and decided to try that. The first metro was really nice. It wasn't crowded, it had A/C and several helpful announcements. For example, "Please do not sit in seats reserved for the handicapped, senior citizens, and ladies" and "Please watch for unattended bags, briefcases, toys, and transistors, as they may contain bombs." Good to know. Then we changed lines. This time it was so crowded that it didn't matter we had nothing to hold on to. But then, maybe 2 people moved and all of the sudden, my friend and I were stumbling back and forth across the car. Indian metros definitely don't glide to a gentle stop. Comparatively, the D.C. metro does. Of course we were on a car with all men. They tried so hard to help us. There is a car reserved for ladies, but we would've had to get off the train, run to the front, and then push our way back on again. Plus, we had a guy with us and didn't want to leave him. Next,a guy said, "These seats are reserved for ladies. You can make someone move." But, walking up (or squeezing our way through hundreds of people) to some random men and demanding they move for us is not part of our natures. Not to mention, it would make it even harder to reach the doors on the opposite side of the car when we needed to get off. Finally, the guy found a bar for us to hold on to. The metro ended up being a lot cheaper than a baby taxi, but it took us an hour to get home, as opposed to 15 minutes.
People here are really helpful. When you've just arrived in Delhi and the only Hindi word you know is the name of your destination, taxi drivers will stop and ask directions, a shop keeper offered me a chair when he noticed a I was waiting on my friends and a policeman got a taxi for us (which helps keep the price down).
There's more to this adventure, but maybe I'll save it for another blog. Oooh, a cliffhanger. I bet that drives you crazy doesn't it?
This week was all about using public transportation. I think I've got baby taxis down. Below is a picture of one, which I found on Google. You can fit 3 people in there, and it zooms around like a go-kart, and it's fairly cheap.
I also rode the train and the metro. I rode the metro Friday, I think. (I don't have cell phone, so I struggle to remember the date, day, or time...) Anyway, my friends and I were leaving the Lotus Temple and we couldn't get a baby taxi take us home for a good price. So, finally we saw a metro station and decided to try that. The first metro was really nice. It wasn't crowded, it had A/C and several helpful announcements. For example, "Please do not sit in seats reserved for the handicapped, senior citizens, and ladies" and "Please watch for unattended bags, briefcases, toys, and transistors, as they may contain bombs." Good to know. Then we changed lines. This time it was so crowded that it didn't matter we had nothing to hold on to. But then, maybe 2 people moved and all of the sudden, my friend and I were stumbling back and forth across the car. Indian metros definitely don't glide to a gentle stop. Comparatively, the D.C. metro does. Of course we were on a car with all men. They tried so hard to help us. There is a car reserved for ladies, but we would've had to get off the train, run to the front, and then push our way back on again. Plus, we had a guy with us and didn't want to leave him. Next,a guy said, "These seats are reserved for ladies. You can make someone move." But, walking up (or squeezing our way through hundreds of people) to some random men and demanding they move for us is not part of our natures. Not to mention, it would make it even harder to reach the doors on the opposite side of the car when we needed to get off. Finally, the guy found a bar for us to hold on to. The metro ended up being a lot cheaper than a baby taxi, but it took us an hour to get home, as opposed to 15 minutes.
People here are really helpful. When you've just arrived in Delhi and the only Hindi word you know is the name of your destination, taxi drivers will stop and ask directions, a shop keeper offered me a chair when he noticed a I was waiting on my friends and a policeman got a taxi for us (which helps keep the price down).
There's more to this adventure, but maybe I'll save it for another blog. Oooh, a cliffhanger. I bet that drives you crazy doesn't it?
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Arrival
Ah, the sweet smell of sweat and pollution! Yes, ladies and gentlemen I have officially arrived in India, with all my luggage PTL. There was some question because the luggage belt stopped for a good 5 minutes and I didn't have any of my suitcases. Apparently, some of the containers were taken to the wrong place.
My journey began at 2:10 Monday afternoon, when I left OKC for Dallas. Then from Dallas I flew to London, where I went through security all over again, walked about 5 miles (slight exaggeration) across the airport, and made it to my gate as the plane was boarding. Btw, for those interested, each of my long flights was about 8 1/2 hours. On the Dallas/London flight, I was seated by a man who apparently had opted not to bathe before entering a tiny space filled with recycled air. He had however, put on cologne in an unsuccessful attempt to hide his BO. It didn't help. On the London/Delhi flight I was seated next to two friendly Spanish women who did not speak any English. They repeatedly crawled over me to talk to their other friends, all the while insisting that I not move. So, I pushed myself as far back into the seat as possible and turned my head to the side in order to avoid someone's rear brushing my face. I know they were trying to be polite, but after a while I really just wanted to get up and let them out.
I'm really starting to like the OKC airport. Twenty-ish gates in 2 hallways and everything is close by. Dallas isn't that bad. At Heathrow, I left the plane and boarded a bus that drove me way far away to the arrival area. Several minutes and a ridiculous amount of escalators later I made it to security, went through that whole process, walked a long long way across terminal A, used yet more escalators, boarded a train to terminal D and went to the far end of that. It took me about an hour to get off the plane and to my next gate.
Baggage claim in Dehli is really far away from the arrival area too.
I got the the guest house at about 3:30 Wednesday morning. The first thing I did was take a shower. I have yet to figure out how to operate the water heater, but the water isn't exactly cold. After standing around in heat and humidity it felt great. The truly important thing was that I got to feel clean again!
I woke up at nine and went shopping for clothes. It is not as crowded as I expected, but I'm told that a lot of people have left the city because they heard the Commonwealth Games would make traffic beyond ridiculous. I bought one shirt, but that's it. Orientation starts tomorrow. Hoping to go to bed early tonight!
My journey began at 2:10 Monday afternoon, when I left OKC for Dallas. Then from Dallas I flew to London, where I went through security all over again, walked about 5 miles (slight exaggeration) across the airport, and made it to my gate as the plane was boarding. Btw, for those interested, each of my long flights was about 8 1/2 hours. On the Dallas/London flight, I was seated by a man who apparently had opted not to bathe before entering a tiny space filled with recycled air. He had however, put on cologne in an unsuccessful attempt to hide his BO. It didn't help. On the London/Delhi flight I was seated next to two friendly Spanish women who did not speak any English. They repeatedly crawled over me to talk to their other friends, all the while insisting that I not move. So, I pushed myself as far back into the seat as possible and turned my head to the side in order to avoid someone's rear brushing my face. I know they were trying to be polite, but after a while I really just wanted to get up and let them out.
I'm really starting to like the OKC airport. Twenty-ish gates in 2 hallways and everything is close by. Dallas isn't that bad. At Heathrow, I left the plane and boarded a bus that drove me way far away to the arrival area. Several minutes and a ridiculous amount of escalators later I made it to security, went through that whole process, walked a long long way across terminal A, used yet more escalators, boarded a train to terminal D and went to the far end of that. It took me about an hour to get off the plane and to my next gate.
Baggage claim in Dehli is really far away from the arrival area too.
I got the the guest house at about 3:30 Wednesday morning. The first thing I did was take a shower. I have yet to figure out how to operate the water heater, but the water isn't exactly cold. After standing around in heat and humidity it felt great. The truly important thing was that I got to feel clean again!
I woke up at nine and went shopping for clothes. It is not as crowded as I expected, but I'm told that a lot of people have left the city because they heard the Commonwealth Games would make traffic beyond ridiculous. I bought one shirt, but that's it. Orientation starts tomorrow. Hoping to go to bed early tonight!
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Sugary and Bright
Ice cream is the most glorious food in the world. Yes, you heard me, it's glorious. I get really excited about really random things and ice cream is one of them. The best kind is udderly cream with reeses and cookie dough. Can you tell I went to Maggie Moo's this weekend? It was the first time I'd eaten there. Actually, there is one kind of ice cream that is better. The kind that is home made by my friends the Watsons. But that sadly is not as accessible as Maggie Moo's. Man I like ice cream!
But on to other things, the weather was also glorious this weekend. Warm and breezy. My whole goal for Saturday, Sunday, and Monday was to stay outside, and I did. I am now done with all of my books. At one point, there was a little Jack Russell mix that decided to be my friend. She just walked over, jumped up into my lap, and sat down. Random. I couldn't bring myself to make her move. She was too cute.
I am now an officially certified ESL instructor. I spent 2 loooong Saturdays learning how to teach it, and saved my self a lot of time and money. Usually, ESL certification is a semester long college class.
This week I've been learning more about Indian culture. What to wear, how to greet people, some cultural mistakes to avoid, etc... Some of the information I already knew, but it's good to refresh my memory. I'm so excited for tailored clothes. Being super short makes it difficult to find pants that fit me. Also, I'm a huge fan of bright colors. I'm going to have to hold myself back, otherwise I'll end up in some sparkly rainbow outfit that makes me look like a five year old. People already have trouble believing I'm a college grad and not a junior high student. No need to make the realization harder. :)
But on to other things, the weather was also glorious this weekend. Warm and breezy. My whole goal for Saturday, Sunday, and Monday was to stay outside, and I did. I am now done with all of my books. At one point, there was a little Jack Russell mix that decided to be my friend. She just walked over, jumped up into my lap, and sat down. Random. I couldn't bring myself to make her move. She was too cute.
I am now an officially certified ESL instructor. I spent 2 loooong Saturdays learning how to teach it, and saved my self a lot of time and money. Usually, ESL certification is a semester long college class.
This week I've been learning more about Indian culture. What to wear, how to greet people, some cultural mistakes to avoid, etc... Some of the information I already knew, but it's good to refresh my memory. I'm so excited for tailored clothes. Being super short makes it difficult to find pants that fit me. Also, I'm a huge fan of bright colors. I'm going to have to hold myself back, otherwise I'll end up in some sparkly rainbow outfit that makes me look like a five year old. People already have trouble believing I'm a college grad and not a junior high student. No need to make the realization harder. :)
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Doom and Discovery
I am starting to be less excited about South Asia. Do you know how many shots I have to get? Hmmm? 11. Well, 10 shots and 1 TB skin test, but still, I have to get poked with a needle so 11. That's so many shots that two nurses stand on either side of me and stab at the same time. I have never fainted or thrown up at the sight of needles, but this time I was definitely nauseous. Friday was our first clinic. Three down, 8 more to go. Yesterday, I received an email saying that the medical department had an early shipment of flu mist. Guess where there has recently been an outbreak of the flu? South Asia! On top of all those shots, I have to shoot liquid up my nose. I think that might be worse. Or at least the idea of it is... Sigh.
But that's enough complaining. On to something more interesting. Last Friday, we also found out our personality types according to the Meyers Briggs test. I am an ISFP.
I: Many of you may be surprised to learn that I scored pretty high on the Introvert scale. :) 22 out of 30.
Being an introvert does not have to mean that you are shy (although I am), it just means you get more energy from being alone than with people.
S is for Sensory: S people define situations by what their 5 senses tell them. This definitely describes me. I tend to interpret things very literally. I don't particularly like sitting around discussing symbolism.
F is for Feeling: feelers make decisions based on how the people around them will respond to it. They also try to avoid conflict. My score on this trait was pretty high as well.
P is for Perceiving: I was only a 6 on the perceiving side. Basically, it means I'm not particularly organized and I don't make very detailed plans. The example given was someone planning a vacation. My plan would be: Go to a New Zealand. Stay for 2 weeks. Do whatever sounds fun/ is affordable. The opposite of that is someone who would meticulously plan every detail. I can do that if I have to. I just usually don't.
Anyway, it was a really interesting seminar. My roommate in India is an ESFJ, which I think will be helpful. She can make friends and plans. :p I will be the one who (hopefully) remains calm when all our plans go out the window.
But that's enough complaining. On to something more interesting. Last Friday, we also found out our personality types according to the Meyers Briggs test. I am an ISFP.
I: Many of you may be surprised to learn that I scored pretty high on the Introvert scale. :) 22 out of 30.
Being an introvert does not have to mean that you are shy (although I am), it just means you get more energy from being alone than with people.
S is for Sensory: S people define situations by what their 5 senses tell them. This definitely describes me. I tend to interpret things very literally. I don't particularly like sitting around discussing symbolism.
F is for Feeling: feelers make decisions based on how the people around them will respond to it. They also try to avoid conflict. My score on this trait was pretty high as well.
P is for Perceiving: I was only a 6 on the perceiving side. Basically, it means I'm not particularly organized and I don't make very detailed plans. The example given was someone planning a vacation. My plan would be: Go to a New Zealand. Stay for 2 weeks. Do whatever sounds fun/ is affordable. The opposite of that is someone who would meticulously plan every detail. I can do that if I have to. I just usually don't.
Anyway, it was a really interesting seminar. My roommate in India is an ESFJ, which I think will be helpful. She can make friends and plans. :p I will be the one who (hopefully) remains calm when all our plans go out the window.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Thoughts...
What I learned about overseas travel so far. You should not drink the water or eat any of the food, and probably go ahead and bring your own oxygen tank just in case (Note the sarcasm on that last part). You should also not wade through any water, because there is a parasite that enters the body through the pores on your feet that can cause liver and bladder damage. (Attempting to avoid standing water will be great fun during the rainy season I'm sure.)
If you happen to be riding in a taxi and the driver hits a cow, throw some money in the backseat and run. If you happen to be riding in a taxi and the driver hits a person, place some money in the backseat and walk away briskly.
And don't even get me started on women's health. Not that this is strictly applicable to living overseas, but so far I've learned that short, blond haired, blue-eyed women are more likely to get several different types of cancers and osteoporosis. I would like to make it perfectly clear that my eyes are GREEN. Thank you.
Now on to better news, today we got to eat out at an Indian restaurant. It's called India K' Raja and it was good. I had:
mattar paneer - cheese cubes with peas in an onion and tomato sauce
vegetable kapora - apparently a ball of fried vegetables
tandoori chicken
chicken curry
rice
naan - amazing flat bread. If you've never had any you should go immediately to your nearest Indian restaurant and get some.
masala dosa - spiced potatoes wrapped something similar to a pancake. That was odd because the dosa I've had before was wrapped in thin crispy bread, but whatever.
gulab jamun - something like ball of pancake soaked in syrup, (the one thing I really didn't like)
mango ice cream
chai- I'm told that chai in India is much better but I liked it anyway.
If that sounds like a lot of food, it was. But I ate small portions, it was mostly amazing, and I'm not eating dinner. Also, I plan to jog tonight if it stops raining. They say there's a drought going on in VA but it's rained almost 3 days per week since I got here...
Getting more and more excited for traveling!
If you happen to be riding in a taxi and the driver hits a cow, throw some money in the backseat and run. If you happen to be riding in a taxi and the driver hits a person, place some money in the backseat and walk away briskly.
And don't even get me started on women's health. Not that this is strictly applicable to living overseas, but so far I've learned that short, blond haired, blue-eyed women are more likely to get several different types of cancers and osteoporosis. I would like to make it perfectly clear that my eyes are GREEN. Thank you.
Now on to better news, today we got to eat out at an Indian restaurant. It's called India K' Raja and it was good. I had:
mattar paneer - cheese cubes with peas in an onion and tomato sauce
vegetable kapora - apparently a ball of fried vegetables
tandoori chicken
chicken curry
rice
naan - amazing flat bread. If you've never had any you should go immediately to your nearest Indian restaurant and get some.
masala dosa - spiced potatoes wrapped something similar to a pancake. That was odd because the dosa I've had before was wrapped in thin crispy bread, but whatever.
gulab jamun - something like ball of pancake soaked in syrup, (the one thing I really didn't like)
mango ice cream
chai- I'm told that chai in India is much better but I liked it anyway.
If that sounds like a lot of food, it was. But I ate small portions, it was mostly amazing, and I'm not eating dinner. Also, I plan to jog tonight if it stops raining. They say there's a drought going on in VA but it's rained almost 3 days per week since I got here...
Getting more and more excited for traveling!
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Ami am lagbe.
I suppose I should start with an explanation for my title. I will shortly be journeying to South Asia, and one of the few things I can say in the local language is "I want a mango." (The title of today's post.) Also, it is really difficult for me to hide what I'm feeling, which means that, atleast for a while, I'll be wandering about looking completely lost and confused. So, whilst (get used to random words like whilst, all those of you who read this) at dinner with some friends, we were joking about my inability to communicate and how nationals would respond to me. One possible option was this: "Did you see that tiny, confused, American girl? I gave her all my mangos."My friends laughed hysterically, and I laughed a little aprehensively... and I had my title.
I am super excited about mangos. They are delicious.
Presently, I'm in Virginia training for my assignment. The first night I got here, it occured to me that I had moved out of my parents' house. I've been overseas before, but always with the expectation that eventually I would return home and everything would go back to the way it was. Not this time. I've graduated from college, I have a job for atleast the next 2 years, and then hopefully, I will continue to live on my own in the States. I have to admit, I feaked out a little. I know I'm weird. But I liked living at home with my parents and sisters. I'm not entirely sure I'm ready to change that. I guess I have to grow up sometime though. That is what I intend for my blog to be about. Not only my adventures in a new country, but also about me becoming an adult.
So... I hope that you enjoy following along in this whole process, should be interesting.
I am super excited about mangos. They are delicious.
Presently, I'm in Virginia training for my assignment. The first night I got here, it occured to me that I had moved out of my parents' house. I've been overseas before, but always with the expectation that eventually I would return home and everything would go back to the way it was. Not this time. I've graduated from college, I have a job for atleast the next 2 years, and then hopefully, I will continue to live on my own in the States. I have to admit, I feaked out a little. I know I'm weird. But I liked living at home with my parents and sisters. I'm not entirely sure I'm ready to change that. I guess I have to grow up sometime though. That is what I intend for my blog to be about. Not only my adventures in a new country, but also about me becoming an adult.
So... I hope that you enjoy following along in this whole process, should be interesting.
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