Week Two (Saris, Strikes, and Internet Sticks)

Well, I finally feel settled. I’ve cleaned and shopped and organized, and my room at last appears as a cozy home-away-from-home. I’ve bought most of the clothes I planned on buying over here. My stomach has adjusted to Indian food (luckily, no major issues there). Classes started this week, and I am loving having a routine again. I’m making friends. And I know my home. Woot. This past week, it seemed that I had hit Indian ground running, panting, and hardly able to keep up with myself. I now feel confident that my feet are underneath me at last, standing on solid ground. Even though it might seem silly, it feels worlds less stressful finally knowing that I am ready for India, that I can handle India, and that I like India. And, I think, India likes me too.

A lot has happened since I wrote you guys last. The cliff notes include visiting a Sikh temple, exploring Pune both with my program’s guidance and alone, running with my compatriot flatmate, Deven, (which, if you ask me, is the only real way to see a city), getting to know some of the Indian women at the hostel, starting classes, boatloads of delish Indian food, and my first sighting of the many cows that mosey along the city streets next to motorcycles and autorickshaws. Oh, by the way, I get to and from everywhere by these small, street legal taxi menaces that more resemble go-carts than anything else. The “rickshawalas” (rickshaw drivers) expertly duck and dive through the absurd traffic of India. Swapna says, “If you learn to drive here, you can drive anywhere in the world.” And honest to God, I believe her.

The nerd in me kept bouncing up and down in the rickshaw this past Monday chanting, “First day of school! First day of school!” In consideration for the dear Rickshawala and my new friend and flatmate, Erin, I refrained from audibly celebrating. Classes since have been great. This semester, I am taking: Beginning Hindi (hard but way awesome), Contemporary India (an all-encompassing insider’s intro to what India is all about), Environmental Perspectives (hasn’t met yet), and hopefully Public Health. The PH prof is tallish and would very much be an old, moustached, big-eared Indian man who says things like “the britishers” and “I like people who smile all the time, because I smile all the time.” Love him. :) But get this: school was CANCELLED today because of a strike! Ok, well, not my classes (typical, right?), but the other students of Fergusson College went on strike to protest some schools wanting to privatize education (the reason we pay so much for education in America). This random guy burst into our Marathi class this morning to say, “We students of FC are rioting against the privatization of education. We are going to have to ask you to go now so that we won’t have to fight you.” Yes, fight us. So, we moved class to “The Program Center,” our home base on FC’s campus, and continued the lecture outside. Indian kids don’t get snow days. They get strike days. Yup.

Yesterday, Pune celebrated a holiday called “Raksha Bandhan Rakhi” in which sisters give their brothers (or guy friends) bracelets, and in return the brothers promise to protect their sisters. Swapna made sure that we came back to the hostel with bracelets for her thirteen-year-old son, Satiam (“sah-tee-ahm”). Satiam is the scrawniest, goofiest kid I’ve ever seen, and he’s almost exactly the same height as his mother. Because of this, Swapna and Satiam always look so lovably comical standing side by side. Anyway, we each gave Satiam a bracelet last night, and he gave us each a gift of stick-on bhindis and life-saver-looking earrings. I feel so blessed to even know Swapna. This deserves a quick pause.

Reasons why I love Swapna:

1) She is an incredible mother to Satiam.

2) She has this unquenchable vitality that makes you breathe deeper and your eyes shine brighter just from being around her. She has so much heart and passion for life and people…

3) She is the fastest walker ever. No, really.

4) She gently bops you on the head (and endearingly pouts!) if you’re late. Don’t test her, bro.

5) She is a brilliant cook (best meals so far have been eaten sitting on the floor of Swapna’s kitchen).

6) She is an unbelievable host-mother. Swapna has already told us repeatedly that we are her daughters now and insisted that we MUST tell her anything we want to do while in India, so that she can see to it that it happens. She said, "You know, I already have decided that these four months... I give them to you. This is not much time, you know, just these four months... so always I am here for you. Do not waste time with me. Say, "Swapna, can we do this?" and then, we will do this. For you. Always." Do you love her yet? Cause I do. We call her "Tai" or "Swapna-tai," which means "big sister."

Thus, when Swapna took the four of us to an I-just-recently-got-married-to-my-husband-so-let’s-party celebration for her cousin’s sister-in-law’s niece (or something like that), the evening couldn’t have been anything short of magical. Little girls and white-haired Indian grandmothers were all dressed in the most beautiful saris I’d ever imagined, and a group of women performed a traditional play for the bride. It was all in Marathi, so I couldn’t even begin to tell you what it was all about, but there was singing and these absolutely crazy dances… I got some on video and am hoping to post them to facebook. For the blog’s sake though, just imagine forty and fifty year old women jumping and twirling, dancing and laughing, all in whirling waves of purple and gold and green and blue. The highlight of the evening, however, was easily meeting Swapna’s twin sister. Because what could be better than Swapna? TWO Swapnas. ;)

I apologize for the delay in posting again... I am going to try to post more frequently (about once/twice a week), but we have all been waiting to get wireless Internet. Right now I’ve been restricted to emailing/posting at the Program Center, which has made communication a bit difficult. Preston, our one of our alumni advisors (he did this same program last fall) has been telling us, “I know a guy.” And TOMORROW is the day on which that guy should come and award us all with “internet sticks” that plug into our computers and give us the oh so blessed gift of the world wide web. This means I will finally be able to skype and call home to you all. Cue the angel choirs and the opening of the heavens. Hallelujah! The only thing is that we have to keep track of how many GBs of info we use the Internet for this month, so that we know how many to purchase for next month… and the log that tells us how many we’ve used apparently always says “This count may or may not be accurate.” Helpful. But that, it seems, is just the Indian way of doing things.

With love,

From India,

Jeannie