Darn Technology

Sooooo my computer cord blew up.

Seriously...it was smoking.

It wasn't even my fault...

they're doing some construction here and we were in the library when suddenly there was a loud explosion noise and the desktop computer hard drive started smoking like crazy.

I went to check my cord (which I had unfortunately left plugged in)

and yup, it was smoking too.

When the power came back on hours later,

I tried it out and there was no juice.

Luckily there's a Mac store right in Bangalore, so at a price I am able to continue using my computer.

I'm just thankful it wasn't the computer that started smoking :)

Behold the joys of living in another country.

Actually, behold the joys of technology.

Which become just even more joyful when you're working with another country's electrical currents.

Tell Me a Story

At 5:30 every day, I teach an English class. Right now I am just helping with an existing class; at the end of August when the other interns have left I will be starting my own classes. Anyway, the task at hand in this English class is to write a story. Every class for the month that I have been here, each girl will dictate to me or Crystal the next page in their story. We will write it down, and then they will illustrate their page.

Yesterday, I was early to class and Crystal ended up being late. She was bringing the supplies, so to fill the extra time I decided to attempt an educational game. I had come to class with only a pen, which (thanks to my year at SIT) quickly became a “talking piece” and I gathered all of the girls into a circle on the floor. Thursday’s class is our youngest and craziest class, so I was cutting out quite the chore for myself (but they are also my favorite class J). We sat in a circle and I explained to them that, since we were writing stories in class, we were going to write one big story together. You were only allowed to speak if you were holding the pen, and you were only to dictate a little bit of story.

As far as the rules go, the game was a failure. Each girl ended up telling her own story, and, although I would try to thread them together, one story was not even the same genre as the next. (This is an accurate reflection of what happens in their books, as well…each page is a story in and of itself. One page they are putting flowers in their hair and going to their sister’s wedding, and on the next page they are doing agriculture work.) However, since the end goal was to get them speaking creatively in English, I would say it was a success.

The success was reaffirmed tonight when I was hanging out with some of the girls, helping them with homework and shooting the breeze. Sunitha (an 8-year-old whose crooked-toothed underbite and uneven bangs captured my heart on day one) left her group of friends, came to me and said, “Auntie – story – mine” and proceeded to regale me with one of the most creative but saddest stories that I have ever heard leave an 8-year-old’s mouth. One baby was bitten by a snake, a lion ate the other baby, and the older brother and sister hung themselves from the fan. I expressed my sadness at the morbidity of the story, and she decided to change the ending to the mom and dad dying in a car accident. Still pretty gruesome, and it is times like these that I wonder at the sadness and trauma they have seen in their young lives (or if it is simply a product of what they watch on TV). Nevertheless, the fluency with which she spoke when telling her stories was absolutely incredible compared to the halting English that she speaks on a daily basis. I praised her creativity and her capability…and lo and behold 10 minutes later she came to me with “Another story, Auntie” and I said, “Is it a happy story?” and she said, “Yes, Auntie” and proceeded to tell me a story about schools and festivals and chocolate and lots of happy children and happy families…I’d say we have a gifted storyteller in our midst, and I’d say that my little English game was a success J

I Appreciate India

Today marks the one-month anniversary of my arrival in India. When people ask me how I like India, my auto-reply is generally, “I love it!”

However, I met a girl a few days ago who, when I asked her that question, responded, “I appreciate it.” I kind of laughed, because often when you hear the word “appreciate” it is because you don’t like something enough to use a more positive word. That being said, the more I think about it, the more I realize that this phrase, “I appreciate India”, better articulates my feelings thus far about my time in India.

I appreciate that I am in a culture so different than my own. I appreciate what I am learning about coexisting with nature (I now say goodnight to the lizard on my wall instead of finding a way to remove it from my room). I appreciate the time that I have to make out of it what I want to. I appreciate the space for discussion. I appreciate the different perspectives that I hear every day. I appreciate the simplicity of life. I appreciate the 10+ hours of sleep that I am getting every night…actually, treasuring might be a better word in this case J.

Don’t get me wrong – I love aspects of India. But at this point, it’s not a place that I am dying to come back to or am dreading leaving. I appreciate what India is teaching me and who it is encouraging me to be, and I look forward to seeing who that turns out to be in December…because I have a feeling that by then I will not only appreciate India, but I will also have a lot for which to thank India.

Fu...Fu

Fu…Fu (Pronounced “foo…foo”). This was the theme for “Visthar Day”, which we celebrated at work today. It was a day of celebrating memories, celebrating the history of Visthar, celebrating the present, and looking towards the future. What is Fu…Fu, you ask? Well, let me explain. It actually is the initials “f-u”…twice, which stand as abbreviations for “Food Unlimited…Fun Unlimited.”

We kicked the day off with a delicious potluck to which everybody brought their specialty. We have staff speaking several languages and from several different parts of the country, so there was quite a feast for us. Then, from 2:30-5:30 we had what would be considered by most to be an office talent show. There was singing and dancing, poetry, drumming and a skit. I work with some seriously talented people. The “Vistharite” was announced (aka employee of the year…as well as an honorable mention) and a “Diversity Cake” was served (this was my part – Melissa and I made a cake that had 3 different layers bound together with frosting and an almond design on top showing the journey that is life and how each individual contributes to the beauty of it).

After the cutting of the cake, the boss left and it turned into a regular office karaoke party. The mike was passed from person to person, and there was food and laughter and dancing and singing. The fact that we had “Visthar Day” doesn’t surprise me in the least, because they do a lot to cultivate a community culture here. But today gave me an opportunity to spend time with my colleagues in a different manner, and it bonded us in a way that meeting for coffee or morning reflection never will.

Hospital Phobia

One of our girls has become very sick, and we went down to the hospital to pay her a visit. As I walked through the hallway on the way to her room, I suddenly became aware that my legs had unexpectedly become very heavy and were moving more and more slowly, as if they were dreading entering that hospital room. I had to consciously tell my legs to move forward. It was funny to me, because none of my family or friends has ever been hospitalized for something serious nor do I have conscious memories of negative experiences at a hospital. Somewhere along the road I must have internalized an apprehension towards hospitals, and I wonder what it was. Or perhaps my body was simply responding to the fact that I hate seeing people in pain, but I was mentally blocking that uneasiness because I wanted to show Saandhiya that I cared. I left the hospital (1) in awe of how my body knows and responds to things that I am not even aware of (2) so thankful that I do not work in a hospital because (3) it is so emotionally breaking to see not only people you love but also those around them sick and hurting.

Kerala Came to Us

It’s funny how once you know a place, that place comes back to find you. We were waiting for dinner at Visthar, and I started making conversation with two people who were new here since I had been away. They are dance and martial arts instructors, and they are here for a few weeks with an Indian Culture course that is occurring on our campus. These people are the sweetest, most genuine visitors I have met thus far at Visthar, and it soon becomes evident why: the woman is Shirley’s neice. As in Shirley from Wayanad, who was one of my favorite women that we had the opportunity to meet. This woman grew up participating in KJ Baby’s plays and she and her husband both taught at Kanavu, the non-formal school for Adivasi that we visited. In fact, he was Saji (our driver’s) martial arts master who we had seen in some photos when we had lunch at Saji’s house. I feel so crazily connected to this new community that we found in Kerala…it’s funny what a small world it really is.

Church

This morning I made it to church for the first time! While there are many many churches in Bangalore city, Visthar is just far enough away that to go into the city would be quite the hassle. As it is, our closest church is quite a walk and a busride away. It was so wonderful to be at church and with the body of believers again! I always love experiencing the House of the Lord in different cultures; I don’t know what I was expecting, but the service was relatively reserved compared to other international churches that I have attended and, as usual, the worship songs sung were classic 90’s contemporary Christian tunes: Lord I lift your name on high, Blessed be the name of the Lord, Open the eyes of my heart. The pastor gave a sermon on the role of a pastor, highlighting that leadership is consistent discipleship. Chew on that for awhile. Because they had an annual meeting directly after the service, I wasn’t able to stay for tea and meet people, but I look forward to doing so on future Sundays!

Traveling

I’ve always said it, but today it remains true: I love to travel, but hate traveling. And that is especially true in India….it is just so exhausting! I think that a lot of the wearying of traveling here comes from not speaking the language, not knowing if you will have a clean toilet, not being familiar with your surroundings and, consequently, not being exactly sure which stop is yours.

On the last day of any journey, one is always tired and filled with contradicting feelings – sad to leave, but excited to get home. As I sat on the bus today, the fatigue and emotion hit me like a brick. I couldn’t wait to get back to Visthar, but unfortunately there were two bus rides and potentially either an autorickshaw ride or long walk in between me and home sweet home…home sweet home where I couldn’t wait to take a bucket shower and climb under my mosquito net.

That is the hard part about traveling when abroad: you aren’t really going home. I remember when I lived in Spain and we would return home from a weekend in Paris or an excursion to Andalucia…and nobody would be there to meet us at the airport or bus station. Instead of being picked up and welcomed home, we’d watch everybody else’s joyful reunions and then continue to the next mode of transportation, eventually trudging ourselves home, weighed down with the heaviness of our backpacks and the loneliness of our hearts. Our host families would be happy to see us, but it was never like reuniting with our real families would be. And I think that the anticipation of this feeling is what drained me even more today. I wish I could tell you that the stress was unnecessary, but that would not be true. We jumped from transport to transport, and trudged the last stretch of road to Visthar. Some of the girls were out with the cows, and it was fun to be greeted and hugged by them [also just a bit overwhelming to the weary travelers]. My bucket shower was lukewarm [which was very welcome when compared to the icy baths we stopped taking in Kerala], and it was so nice to crash onto my bed at 930…but as I fell asleep, I couldn’t help thinking how wonderful it will be to be welcomed home by my friends and family in December, to crawl into my own bed with flannel sheets, and to fall asleep holding Baby Abby J

P.S. happy one year anniversary Jess and Scott!!!!!

This is Saji's House

First things first: today we interviewed a man named Joe Sebastian. Which, as you Minnesotans may guess, means that all I thought about the entire time was ice cream J oh man, I can’t wait to get back to Sebastian Joe’s and have me some homemade raspberry chocolate chip ice cream…

Secondly, today was our last day with Saji…I would have been content to just cruise in that jeep and chat with him all day long. We stopped in the forest, which is his favorite place to be, and he also took us to meet his mom, but sadly she wasn’t there. We did, however, hang out on her front porch and meet her neighbors. And then, he brought us to his house! We met his wife Kamela and they made us some delicious omelettes for lunch. He whipped out the photo albums and also Kamela’s art portfolio, and his pride in both his family and of her art skills was SO precious. As we sat on his porch sipping that delicious coffee I just about burst with happiness.

Most Beautiful Place?

I’m beginning to become interviewed out…which is evident by the fact that I journaled throughout the entire first interview, which was 2 hours long and in a hut at the top of a mountain overlooking a tea plantation. I think that this is the most beautiful place I have ever been. Which may also be because it is absolutely unlike anyplace I have ever been. I think it most closely resembles the Hana Road area of Maui, plus what you would imagine colonial Jamaica to look like [but a whole lot bigger], mixed with a little bit of Cairo…kind of. And tonight I found myself trudging up a mud hill through the Indian jungle following a tribal woman carrying a torch. Seriously? Awesome.

Best. Day. Ever.

This morning we climbed a mountain to see the Edekkel Caves, which are the 2^nd oldest cave drawings in the world [2500 BC, the oldest are in France]. We also stopped and saw some touristy things, but it was fun because Saji was our guide. In the afternoon, we had a rocking interview/conversation with a woman named Shirley, who started the Kanavu school for Adivasi children. We talked about Kanavu, education, Adivasi, culture, and she was very honest and humble and challenging and wise. She had two sides to every story and opinion, and articulated a lot of what I have been thinking about for the past several days.

But the best best best was when we actually went to Kanavu and Saji gave us a tour of his school. Then we sat on the porch of the library in the pouring rain and he told us his story, his struggle, his view of justice for the Adivasi. And what was it? Confidence. Self-empowerment. The issue isn’t land. It’s not assimilating to society. It’s identity, respect, self-worth. We were vulnerable with our questions and confusions, and he was vulnerable with his story: this was a bonding moment.

We spent the evening at the school and sang and danced with the students. This was actually the hardest moment of my time in India so far because it was he first time I really wanted to communicate but didn’t know how. The kids had no need to play with us, which was good because it meant we weren’t special because we were white, but I wanted so badly to connect with them…but Saji told us that they liked us, so I guess we made some connection. I would love to come back here someday.

However, the greatest moment of the entire day was in the jeep on the way home. I realized that exactly a year ago I was accepted to grad school, and here I am now in India. Crystal shared where she was, Melissa shared where she was, and we asked Saji where he was at a year ago. He was in Bangalore, and I asked him if he ever thought he’d have a jeep. He said no. Crystal asked if he ever thought he’d be with people as cool as us in a year and he said no, and “I’ve been thinking, and I don’t want to take money from you” which we clearly resisted and insisted until he explained that if he didn’t need to pay off his jeep, he would not charge us because at the beginning of the week we were just another job, but now, “I am feeling that something has changed with us. We are friends.”

It's Been Quite the Year

Wow.

Here I sit in India, typing away in my little brick hut,

When it suddenly hit me that it has been exactly a year since I was accepted to grad school.

Until a year ago today, I had absolutely no idea what direction God was going to take me; in fact, I was feeling pretty stuck. And look at me now, two-thirds of the way done with my Master’s degree and living in India!!!

Looking back, I can’t believe that it has only been a year!!! And what a year it’s been:

A year in which I temporarily moved away from the most near and dear people in my life...and found that the distance only made my heart grow closer to them. A year in which I met and was inspired by some of the most incredible people that I know. A year in which I visited 6 new states [Massachusetts, Connecticut, New York, Vermont, New Hampshire, Hawaii]. A year that I lived in Vermont [now, how many people can say that?] and had many, many adventures on the Greyhound bus between Brattleboro and Boston. I showed my mom Chicago in a whirlwind day. I got to go on vacation with my family…twice. Oh, and I also lived with five girls in a one-bedroom apartment in Manhattan…that was an adventure in and of itself J I learned Italian. I wakeboarded. I fell in love with Kolb’s experiential learning cycle. I went to the biggest pumpkin festival in the world. I cohabitated with a snowman named Steve [that was for you, Sabs]. I developed a deep affection for pitted prunes [now, before you grimace and say gross, I want you to try one]. I was honored to stand up in my best friend’s wedding, and later my soulmate’s [and celebrated with many other precious people through their engagements and weddings, too]. It was a year where I was stretched and challenged way beyond what I ever thought possible emotionally, spiritually, and intellectually…and also physically: I committed to a gluten-free lifestyle, I tried to become a runner [emphasis on try; I’m still working on that one], and, for the first time in my life, I woke up with bags under my eyes [sorry for the ugly truth…I have social change class to thank for those. And for a lot of greater things, as well]. I learned even more about who I am and what it means to love Jesus more than anything. I uncovered many new dreams and desires [who knew that going back to school would only make me want to keep going back???] and I’m pretty sure that I should have six-pack abs as proof of how much I laughed.

Wow. [again.]

To think that I worried, that I stressed about “what I should do with my life”. God knew all along that I would be sitting here today…and if all that happened in only a year, I can’t wait to see what this next one has in store. As Jennie Mather [now Anderson] and I used to say [while sitting on a bench in the Plaza Mayor in Segovia, Spain], “I wonder what God knows that He’s smiling about right now?”

Just Another Awesome Day

I can’t even count the number of times today that I thought, “What the heck life am I living right now?” Seriously. How awesome. First, riding in an open jeep through the Indian jungle [national geographic…]. Then we met with K. Naryanan, coauthor of a book called a search for justice and got clarity on a lot of questions we had as well as an important view of education. When we left his house, there was a man riding an elephant across the road. Yup, an elephant. We made a pit stop on the way to our next destination and felt like Indiana Jones exploring a 500 year old Jain temple, and then came to the home of A.C. Varkey, who is the state chairman of the Farmer’s Relief Forum. He has been arrested 86 times and lived a life that made an incredible difference in many others’ lives…as we sat there, I couldn’t help but pray that I live a life that is so impactful that people will someday want to interview me. We slipped down a mud hill to a tribal colony and spent time with some women who invited us for tea, serving the best coffee EVER. They introduced us to a woman who was over a century old. She was SO beautiful and I was sad when they told us that she lacked the mental capacity to ask us questions or to give us advice, but when I said goodbye to her, she took my hands in both of hers and spoke so earnestly to me that I am positive she was giving me some kind of blessing. So. That is a snapshot of just another awesome day in my incredible life. Not to mention that Saji, our driver, is just a treat and we are so glad to have him on our journey.

I Feel Like I'm on National Geographic

This was the thought that I had today as I trudged through rice paddies ankle-deep in mud and ended up in an impromptu interview on the front porch of a 75-year-old Adivasi man who had only two teeth that I could see (and they weren’t the two front). Later I found myself in the living room of a former president of the grama panjayat, or village government. We sat discussing the injustices to the Adivasi, the prejudices against “these people”, and the failure of the government to put action to their promises. You know, the usual.

Welcome to Kerala

We arrived safely in Kerala and I was excited to get to our place to write about our incredibly bumpy but beautiful busride through the jungle on an open-windowed bus. But then we got to RASTA and were shown all the spices and fruit that they grow, and I decided that instead, I would start by making a list of all the spices. But THEN we got back to our room and found a humungous, black, hairy spider the size of my hand…therefore that now takes precedence for this post J

The story goes something like this:

We came inside and several of us really had to go to the bathroom. One toilet was broken, and there had been a little spider in the other bathroom before (and by little I mean the size of my sunglass lens), so Melissa and I went in together, checking behind the door, under the sink, behind the toilet for spiders when I heard a bloodcurdling scream and looked up in the corner to see a spider the size of my hand hanging our up there. So what did we doo? Slammed the door shut and ran screaming like little girls, of course.

When Melissa stopped hyperventilating, we sat pondering how, due to this crisis, we wouldn’t be able to shower or use the toilet or even sleep for fear that giant spiders will crawl over us and into our mouths while we slept. Yes, we were a little bit hysterical.

After a bit, we decided that we at least needed to see if the toilet flushed. So we got up the guts to venture back into the bathroom [we were still a bit hysterical…don’t worry, we filmed it] and, lucky for us, it did flush, so no latrines were necessary. For me, that was more important than the spider issue J however, the spider was still there, and it was going to be a little difficult to use the bathroom in fear of him jumping down on us. That issue was solved, however, when our hostess brough us dinner and got quite a kick out of our spider scare and had it [and its brother in the adjoining bedroom] removed Phewfta. Now we could participate in all of life’s necessities in peace. We have since captured and released other medium sized spiders, and even ignoring when we came home to find probably a hundred small ones covering the wall…please be proud J

Oh. And for those of you who were wondering, the spices that they grow here are cardamom, vanilla bean, cinnamon, lemongrass, coffee, chives, ginger, pepper, nutmeg, as well as jackfruit, banana, mango, papaya, white tubors, yams, tamarin, and other legumes. So awesome.

Off on an Adventure!

Just make sure the tribal chief doesn't marry you off to his eldest son in some obscure ceremony that you thought was a Welcome Ceremony. I can see it now. The chief puts feathers in your hair and you are hitched for life. And he throws in 5 water buffalos as an added bonus because of your blond hair. Well ,you get the picture.

This was the advice that my grandma had for me when I told her that tomorrow I am going traveling...very good advice and I assure you all that I will do my best to make sure that that doesn't happen :)

So yes, I am going traveling!

Crystal, one of the interns, is going to Wayanard in Kerala (the next state over) to do research for her senior thesis and Melissa and I are tagging along for the ride :)

We are going to be interviewing members of the Adivasi tribe. The Adivasis are similar to Native Americans in the states in that they are the native people who have been oppressed and enslaved and kicked off their land...I just joined the trip on Thursday so I haven't done a lot of background research, but I am very excited to experience more of the culture and history of this rich country that I live in and to learn more about human rights issues in India.

Wayanard is also the spice capital of the world and is home to the 2nd oldest cave paintings...yay for good food and good history!!!

I'll talk to you all again in a week, when I have returned with feathers in my hair and am 5 water buffalos richer...

Internet

Here I am, day 2 of no internet.

It’s funny the things we take for granted, isn’t it? The things upon which we are dependent?

15 years ago, we never would have thought that someday

not being able to connect to a wireless network or Ethernet cord

would put our work on hold

and make us wonder if people would worry that we were okay.

At least, I would never have imagined such a thing 15 years ago.

Or 10.

Or even 5.

But here I am, sitting in the library

Workless

Because a rat chewed through our internet cords. (Only in India)

It’s kind of nice, actually…

It makes you slow down,

Makes you think.

Makes you realize what a hurry we’re in to get things done…

And to probe into the depth of knowledge of the people around you

Rather than the depth of ‘knowledge’ online.

And…I got to read a book.

(note to the reader: don’t worry, our internet has now been fixed and is functioning as properly and efficiently as it is able to in India)

I'd Like to Dedicate This Song...

If I were calling Delilah tonight, there would be two songs that I would like to dedicate:

The first is to my brother Ben, and it goes something like this…you may know it, feel free to sing along J

Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you.

Happy birthday from India

Happy birthday to you.

The second is to some INCREDIBLE young women from Gordon college. We said goodbye to you last night, and although you have left India you have not left my heart. If there is one more thing that I can say to you, one more thing I can leave you with, one more piece of encouragement, it is the message of this song as you continue to envision God's kingdom on earth and work towards social justice:

Open up the doors and let the music play

let these streets resound with singing

Songs that bring your hope

Songs that bring your joy

Dancers who dance upon injustice

Do you feel the darkness tremble

When all the saints join in one song

And all the streams flow as one river

To wash away our brokenness?

Here we see that God you're moving

a time of Jubilee is coming

when young and old return to Jesus

Fling wide you heavenly gates

prepare the way of the Risen Lord

Starry Starry Night

Last night I saw a few stars for the first time since arriving in India. I smiled and was filled with a feeling of complete peace while at the same time the pang of wanting to be home. The stars are the same, both here and at home, and I was flooded with love as God reminded me that He, too, is the same both here and at home. I have always said that the stars are God’s way of showing me He loves me, and although I’d forgotten and taken them for granted, last night through just a few stars He showed me that He hadn’t. Then tonight when I came outside, the entire night sky was bright with stars and the moon was beaming through the heavens. It was so beautiful, and I was almost brought to tears as I could hear my mom saying, “Wherever you are, you just need to look up at the moon and know that I am looking at the same one.” (Hehe I hope you are crying right now) I learned the words in Kannada: nakshatra is star and chandra is moon…two words that just may become my favorites. So whenever you look up at a starry starry night, send a little love my way J

Let's Move to an Organic Farm and Grow Pineapples

This was the day we had all been waiting for.
The day that we visited Roshen [my supervisor]’s idol,
A man who owns only 2 shirts.
Now, that may be legend, it may be lore.
But none of us can deny that we left our field visit
To this sustainable, organic farm
Wanting (a) to grow our own food and (b) to live simply.
We also left with the same awe-rendering feelings as Roshen.
This man, who has been barely educated by Western standards
(although he has beeng ranted an honorary Ph.D),
Was the second organic farmer in India (1962)
And has since been one of the most innovative.
Monsanto offered him 2 million Rupees
If he would endorse BT Cotton in India
(a genetically modified seed – google the documentary “the world according to Monsanto),
but he refused because he knew
the injustice that it would do to his fellow farmers, the consumers, and to the land.
Oh man.
His farm was so lush
And so beautiful
And so productive,
And only himself, his wife, and his son work it.
Did I mention that he is 75?
Although he has the means, he has chosen not to buy machinery
And uses his bike instead of a tractor…
He has time, and he likes riding his bike.
Why not enjoy your work?
Plus, by biking and working the land with your hands, your feet (he was barefoot the entire time we were with him),
I imagine that you are so much more connected to the earth
And it is something not that you use, but that you work with.
Which I like ☺
And then his wife served us lunch
Made completely from what was grown on the farm.

Seriously, I think that food just tastes better

when it is fresh, whole, and prepared by hand

[and eaten by hand, for that matter]
Yum.
My tongue can’t forget the taste of fresh basil:
I probably could have eaten nothing more today
and been satisfied if only that taste had lingered forever.

The World from the Back of a Bike

Today, I rode on a motorbike for the first time.
At first, it was scary.
Like the first 20 seconds.
But from then on, I didn’t ever want to get off.
There’s something to be said about
Whizzing by an auto-rickshaw with a half-inch to spare
Or taking your time leisurely turning taking a right-handed u-turn
[thanks to the British, Indians drive on the “wrong” side of the road].
As we zipped through the city
I couldn’t help but feel like I was in a movie:
My hair coming unbraided in the wind
As I wiped the bugs off the inside of my euro-style helmet,
Indie-style purse wrapped across my body
And my red linen skirt hiked just-high-enough
For me to feel like a rough, tough, adventuring girly-girl…
I even gained enough comfort and confidence to relax my death grip
And balance with my core.
The movie-star feeling was enhanced
Due to the fact that there are very very few
Scandinavian girls riding motorbikes through
“inner city” Bangalore ☺
As we zoomed through the narrow, stone, garbage-filled streets
of the poorer Muslim area,
people were milling all around and I just tried to take it all in.
Sometimes I imagined that I was in a chase scene in a Bond movie
And my confession is that other times I closed my eyes and pretended I was in Rome…Lizzie McGuire movie anyone?
Anyway, the whole time I was wishing that I could be videotaping
And capturing incredible photos
But chose instead to enjoy the moment…
It’s times like these that personal paparazzi would come in handy ☺
We even got pulled over by a cop…and then bribed him to let us go.
Only in India.

Rome.

I know, I know, here I am in India…LIVING in India…

And blogging about Rome?

I’m sorry, I’m sorry…

I just can’t help myself.

Eat Pray Love has the main character living in Rome for 4 months,

I found myself at a bookstore today

Reading about “Dream Destinations”

[of which Rome took up pages 42-46]

and a student here is going to be studying in Italy in the spring…

so clearly I have spent much of my time and power today

convincing her to choose Rome J

And…wishing I could go, too.

We went into Bangalore City today,

And as I walked around

I decided that I like the city.

I do.

But I am very, very glad that I don’t live in it

Because it wears me out.

And then I started to ponder the difference.

First, the difference between Bangalore

And Rome or London, the two places I crave most frequently,

And then the difference between

Traveling and living in a place.

I still haven’t come to any conclusions…

Or even concretely identified what the question is.

Except that I think

I could still live in Rome…

Yes, it is a big, busy, dirty [but beautiful] city

That is always hustling, always bustling.

But unlike NYC or Bangalore

It has this vitality, this energy, this invitation to intimacy

Yes, I think that is it.

Rome desires to be known,

And it longs for you to accept its invitation.

NYC and Bangalore, I think, are afraid to be known.

The people move so quickly,

With such purpose,

That the pavement is closed

And scared of being vulnerable

While Rome, well,

It embraces you.

Rome, it should be said, has not bothered to join the race for status. Rome doesn’t compete. Rome just watches all the fussing and striving, completely unfazed, exuding an air like: “Hey – do whatever you want, but I’m still Rome.” I am inspired by the regal self-assurance of this town, so grounded and rounded, so amused and monumental, knowing that she is held securely in the palm of history. I would like to be like Rome when I am an old lady [Eat Pray Love 76]

Disturb your Comforts and Comfort your Disturbs

Yesterday, I heard this phrase, “Disturb your Comforts and Comfort your Disturbs”, used with schoolchildren as it related to breaking out of their typical friend groups and making new friends.

Today, I continued to repeat this phrase over and over and over again as I forced myself to read a book for fun. It was a rainy day in India [it is monsoon season, after all], and what do we dream about on rainy days in America? “Oh, I would just love to stay inside and curl up with a book.” Yes, you’ve said it, I’ve said it, but how often do we really do it?

I am the kind of girl who has this fantasy of what my life could be like [having time to relax and read and bike and fish and bake] but then gets anxious when she is not doing anything, not being productive, and fills it up with other things…busy things. So today, as I sat to read a book for pleasure, I started to feel it again. The anxiety in my stomach. Laying in my bed and reading a book was disturbing my comfort. My mind started rolling with things that I should be doing: “I should go play with the girls” “I should be reading something that pertains to my research” “I should figure out how to get a cell phone” “I should see if the other interns need help with anything” but then I said, “Jen. What do you want to do?” and I answered, “I want to be reading. I want to be relaxing. I want to learn how to live the life that I never seem to have time for…I need to learn to be good to me.”

And so today, I forced myself to read a book. Sometimes outside under the Indian sun, sometimes inside listening to the monsoon pattering on my brick-hut roof. I had to let go of my need to do something, and to let myself to be. I disturbed my comfort [strange that such a small thing could cause such discomfort] and tried to let the disturb be comforted by itself…by reading a book.

The funny thing is that while I read that book, I read something that identified exactly what I am feeling/experiencing…

At some point, you gotta let go and sit still and allow contentment to come to you…Letting go, of course, is a scary enterprise for those of us who believe that the world revolves only because it has a handle on the top of it which we personally turn, and that if we were to drop this handle for even a moment, well – that would be the end of the universe. But try dropping it…this is the message I’m getting. Sit quietly for now and cease your relentless participation. Watch what happens. The birds do not crash dead out of the sky in mid-flight, after all. The trees do not wither and die, the rivers do not run red with blood. Life continues to go on…why are you so sure that your micromanagement of every moment in this whole world is so essential? Why don’t you let it be?

[The book is Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. While I don’t agree with or ascribe to many of her theological thoughts or “finding herself” practices, I am really enjoying (a) her writing style and (b) her journey as she tries to let go and allow herself pleasure, devotion, and balance.]

So now if you will excuse me…I have to go read J

All I Want is Rice

Today is a day that will go down in history.

Today is the day

that I started craving rice.

Praise the Lord,

I thought it would never come.

Here in India,

we eat lunch at 1

and then no dinner until 8.

So 5:00 came around...

and man I was hungry.

So I had a granola bar

[note: if you are going to send me a package, please include some LARABARS]

and then some chocolate

[ok, maybe a lot of chocolate...I was reading a book for PLEASURE for the first time in, well, a long time...I couldn't help but eat chocolate :)]

and although I wasn't hungry anymore

I still wasn't satisfied

and I spent a long time

asking my body what it wanted,

what it needed...

and what did it tell me?

Rice!!!!

Rice with veggie sauce.

mmmmmm yummmy.

I am sure a blog will come

in a month or two

when I am so tired of rice I can't even eat,

but for today

I am going to relish in the fact that

it is all I want.

and....something just peed through my roof. Only in India :)

Learning Kannada

I have decided

that since I am going to be here for 6 months

I am going to learn Kannada.

Kannada is the local language

and is actually the language that the title of this blog comes from.

And it wasn't entirely my decision, either...

when the girls learned that I am staying for 6 months,

they decided that I will teach them English, and they will teach me Kannada.

Except...they are already good at English.

And I am awful at Kannada.

I am normally a language person...

but up til today, I have just heard intonations and noises,

making "blah blah blah blah" noises back at the girls

when they would rattle on at me in Kannada.

but TODAY

one of them started breaking up the phrases

into subjects, verbs, and conjugations

and it made it so much easier!!!!

I learned to count [well, to 5...]

and actually had a conversation [that consisted of me asking someone's name, telling them mine, and telling them where I was from...but a conversation nonetheless].

So here I am,

the romance language girl

slowly but surely

learning Kannada.

Who knows...maybe by Christmas I will be fluent :)

Dinner with the Ambassador

Last night, one of my coworkers invited me and the other interns over for dinner.

Her husband used to be the Indian ambassador to several different countries,

and he made us a delicious delicious meal

complete with chicken and beef :)

In true diplomatic form

the Indian wine never stopped flowing

and we laughed SO MUCH.

One of the interns and I

found out that we oddly have a LOT of really random things in common...

[I am not even going to list them because it is so random it is almost embarrassing...for example: we have the same names on our lists of names we would like to name our children. See? embarrassing. yes, I have a list. But she does too :)]

In fact...we had so much fun that we didn't get back home until 2AM!!!!

and then worked this morning at 9.

eeesh.

But it was SO worth it.

Indian hospitality really is everything that it they say it is

and more,

and it was SO much fun to be able to spend time with the people I work with

in a casual environment

where we weren't ALWAYS engaged

in "save the world" conversations.

As fun as those are,

they get kind of heavy...

and now I can say that I have had dinner with the ambassador :)

There is a cockroach in my sink.

There is a cockroach in my sink.

I came to my room to go to the bathroom earlier today,

and saw something red in my drain.

ew. yes, it was a cockroach.

I may or may not have freaked out.

What the heck do I do with a cockroach in my sink?

So I turned on the water in hopes that it would drown...

no such luck.

Instead, it started crawling up the sides of the sink [ewww]

and I frantically looked around for something that could help me.

I grabbed a glass and trapped it,

holding on to the glass for a looooong time before I was assured that it was really trapped.

I kept my eye on it the entire time I was in the bathroom, not wanting it to escape.

Now it is nighttime, and it is still there.

My friend Melissa told me

that I have to get it out of the sink

and onto the floor

and then attack it with my broom.

But I just can't get up the guts.

It's getting mad, too, and scuttling around really fast under there.

ew. it's poop is collecting on the lowermost part of the glass.

oh it just gives me the heebie-jeebies...

On the Flip Side

After I wrote about all the “hardships” of adventuring in the jungle, I started reflecting on the true harsh realities of this place where I live…

• · Saturday, I bought an outfit for $22. Not bad for some authentic Indian apparel, huh? But I just did the math, and the reality is that, to the Indian consumer, that outfit cost the equivalent of $137.50. Were I an Indian, living in a country where the majority live on $1-2/day, I never would have been able to buy that very same outfit.
• · The other day, the girls caught a glimpse of my permanent retainer and asked me what it was for…as I looked back at their crooked grins I felt so foolish telling them that the piece of metal that costs more than they will ever make in a year is to keep my teeth from moving apart [even though I am oh-so-thankful for it…contextually it seems so superfluous].
• · These girls wake up at 5am. They do chores, study, do yoga, serve breakfast, and go to school. They come home, go to English class, go to computer class, study, serve dinner, and go to bed. But they never ever let me go behind them in the supper line.
• · And…one [or more] of them is fighting AIDS. But it is a secret, because if the others find out she will be shunned.

Yes, we have plenty to be thankful for. And plenty to think about…because with great privilege comes great responsibility [borrowed and morphed that quote from Spiderman; thank you Uncle Ben]. More about that later, I’m sure.

Roughing It.

Today, I have realized the harsh[ish] realities of this place where I live:

• · The two other interns have lice [my scalp itches just thinking about it].
• · I sure hope I don’t get it, because washing this head of hair with a bucket is quite the chore…although I am becoming quite the pro AND it truly conserves SO much water! You should try it…
• · My feet, ankles, and lower shins look like I have the chicken pox because they are covered in so many mosquito bites.
• · When I walk around campus after dark [don’t worry Mom, it’s safe] I have to high-step like a Clydesdale horse to avoid stepping on cobras
• · While clopping home I do so with a slight hunch because to me it seems like that will keep the swooping bats from hitting me in the face or landing on my head [ewwwwwww].
• · Oh, and I’ve decided to keep my mosquito net in place all hours of the day to avoid becoming paranoid of little lizards making their way into my bed.
• · BUT after talking with the other interns, I realized that I have it pretty good so far because I don’t have a rat who lives on my roof and poops through the ceiling. Knock on wood J

When I wrote that part about the cobras, the reality of my life right now hit me and I asked myself, “who AM i?!?!?” How awesome is it that I LIVE here and even get to write about that kind of stuff?!? I really am turning into nature girl…next time you see me it just may be on Jen vs. Wild J

A Fourth of July in India

As I write this early on the morning of July 5th, most of you are oooohing and ahhing over fireworks from a grassy hill, the end of a dock, or on a boat in the middle of a lake (sigh). And, contrary to popular belief, they still have the fourth of July in India. Do they celebrate? or care? no, not really. And quite honestly....we didn't realize or care either :)

How did I celebrate, you ask? Well, I picked berries with the girls, read about the negative consequences of the market economy, and spent a lot of time working on my capstone requirements for school.

But the best part of the day was when Melissa, another intern, stopped on the way in from town and picked up ice cream and chocolate. After dinner, we snuck into the kitchen and made us some ice cream sundaes, wishing each other a happy independence day. Then we snuggled up in my room to watch Ever After, which is most definitely the greatest Cinderella story of all time. I hadn't seen it for years, so it even had a surprise ending for me! We stayed up SO late talking, and I was up past midnight for the first time since being here. I crashed the moment my head hit my pillow, but it was a great night of good old "American" fun and bonding with my colleagues.

So I hope the fireworks were beautiful, the corn on the cob was the sweetest it's ever been, and that you got to "shred it up" behind the boat (that was for you, Jammin). and....can't wait to celebrate with you next year :)

A Free Ride in a Rickshaw

Today was a big day.

Day 3 of India, and it was time to leave my jungle sanctuary and go into the Big City:

Bangalore.

There are many things I could write about, but I today I am going to tell you only about our rickshaw adventure.

I went into the city with a girl named Crystal, who has been here awhile and knows almost all the ropes.

We had been in town for a few hours (dare I say it....yes, we were shopping) and it was time to go to another street. We stopped to ask someone for directions (Indians are very friendly and love to be helpful) and a rickshaw driver pulled up and told us that he could take us there for 10 rupies. This is very inexpensive, and we asked him several times to confirm that it would only be 10 rupies. He insisted, so we got in. (This is where Grandma Mabby squeals and closes her eyes, remembering a certain rickshaw ride in London and trying not to imagine us in a rickshaw in the middle of the busy Indian street.)

As we chatted with the driver, he said that he was able to offer us a ride so cheap because it was his company. I took this to mean that he owned the rickshaw business and was like, oh cool! Crystal knew better. It turns out that he was taking us to his company and that in exchange for a 10R ride we had to spend 5 minutes in a very expensive gift shop. We argued with him for awhile and then gave in, entering the store, browsing, and leaving. We got back into our ride, and he told us that because we weren't in the store for 5 minutes we had to go to another one. What?!?!

The owner of the store will give the driver of the rickshaw a coupon for discount gasoline if they bring tourists to their gift stores. But the owner will only give the driver a coupon if the tourist spends 5 minutes in the shop. By this time our hands were tied, so we grudgingly walked into the next shop, browsing as slowly as possible and chatting with the clerks. Crystal and I ended up being pushed on a garden swing inside the shop for awhile while the clerks told us how mesmerizing our eyes were, engaging the clerks in conversation while trying to avoid committing to either purchasing something or having dinner with them. Eventually I gave in and made a purchase...don't worry, Crystal didn't give in to a dinner date.

We got back into the rickshaw and the driver was now happy. He drove us to our street, chatting the whole way, and let us out. I didn't have 10R, so Crystal was going to pay with a larger bill, but the driver didn't have any change.

He said, "That is all right girls. If you do not have the exact money, you do not have to pay me."

We looked at each other, looked at him, and said, "Ok, thank you!"

All that....for a free ride in a rickshaw. Only in India.

Surprise Freaks!

Just wanted to report that this morning I opened the shades.

As I drew back the curtain, something fell.

I jerked my head out of the way

and looked to see what had fallen to the bed.

It was none other than a little lizard.

I screamed.

Welcome to India :)

Learning to Eat with my Hands

In India, we eat a lot of rice. Rice for breakfast, rice for lunch, and rice for dinner. It’s like survivor. And…you eat with your hands. I laugh thinking about how I thought chopsticks were hard J But seriously….next time you have rice, try gracefully eating a handful of it with your fingers. It’s tougher than it sounds.

But I thought I had it down…get some pointers from the other Americans, watch the Indians, pick up the rice and shovel it into your mouth as quickly as you can so that you don’t make a mess of yourself.

I was eating with the little girls last night, when they started giggling. I asked, “What? Why are you laughing?” and then they started making fun of me, mimicking the way I raise my elbow when I am putting food into my mouth, saying “No, Auntie” and pushing down my elbow. So thankful that they told me what I was doing wrong, I put my elbow down and tried again. Which was very awkward. And those girls just couldn’t stop laughing. I made quite the mess, but can now say that I am eating like an Indian…or at least attempting to J

A Housewarming Party

Today I walked down the road to go to a colleague’s housewarming party. He is getting married in November and he and his fiancé just bought a house. Although they haven’t moved in yet and it is barren of any furniture at all, they invited us over to warm their new home. It is the spacious 2^nd floor of a newly-constructed, brightly-colored house, an apartment that costs 3,500 rupies a month. In dollars? About $70. Two bedrooms (one is a really cool tower room that is shaped like an octagon and has lots of windows), a living room and a kitchen. Cheap for you or me. But to an Indian? The equivalent of about $437 (For you economists, that’s looking through the lens of purchasing power parity).

Now this housewarming party was unlike any that I have ever been to. We came, greeted the new owners, walked through all of the rooms, and then sat down in the living room (correction to the earlier furniture comment: there was a futon-type sofa and a few chairs set up in the living room). I sat next to a man who is the pastor of the church, and he stood up and welcomed everyone to their new home. We sang “Give Thanks” (a Calvin Christian School favorite), and read some verses from Psalm 90. The pastor prayed a blessing over their home, that it would be filled with joy and overflowing with grace, and then we prayed the Lord’s prayer and had some snacks and left within 10 minutes. It was definitely different than our housewarming parties, and I was surprised by the presence of the pastor and the prayer. But it was really neat…and hopefully, I will be invited to the wedding in November!

Dirty, Stinky, and Sweaty

That was the first thought that I had on this, my first morning in India. For the next 6 months, I am going to be dirty, stinky, and sweaty. An image of the bucket shower that I saw in my bathroom the night before flashed through my head. Nope, not going to be clean until Christmas. Then I turned over and looked at my clock – 6:15 am. I had gone to bed at 3am….looks like I am going to be quite the early riser for the next 6 months too!