Monkey See, Monkey Do--Not Bite Me

Umm... So did I forget to tell you about the weekend I went to a monkey fort??? 'Cause I'm thinkin that I did. Mah bad. I shall remedy this immediately.

I went with friends Allegra (shout-out!), Lauren, Erin, Hannah & Eric two weekends ago, 17-19 September, to a city called Aurangabad, and more specifically to an old fort that looked like like Helms Deep... but with monkeys. Luckily, we got this picture right before a man sprinted over to us, wide-eyed, with arms waving madly, calling, "NOOO! Do not do this thing!!" So, it turns out that monkeys "will steal yure camrrah!" And then, "they weel bite you!" Narrow escape. But look how cuuuute he eees! :)

Anyhoosiers, the real point of our excursion was to explore Ajanta and Ellora, some wicked old caves near Aurangabad carved by these crazy awesome Buddhist monks. Because this was Ante-Camera Loss 2010, I got some snaps. Ch-ch-check it:

^^ Ajanta \/ \/

^Sweet waterfall at Ajanta...

...and Allegra drinking said waterfall. All of it.

Our guide says, "See the blue hat with blue socks? Yes, yes, ancient India invented matching."

Oh and we went to Rivendell! :)

(Okay, well, no... no, actually we didn't really... But hey, aren't the Ellora caves awesome?)

We took an intermission between the two sets of caves to check out the Bibi-Ka-Maqbara, or th the Mini-Taj Mahal. The five of us affectionately renamed it the "Taj Ma-Small."

Admit it: that's pretty clever.

And we took artsy photos...

and awkward photos... :)

and laid in the grass to watch the sunset...

And then we answered Eric's excited calls for "Monkey Fort! Monkey Fort! Monkey Fort!"

^^more of the fort. and erin... with the fort.

Holding onto another's tail:

So freaking human-like...

"Sometimes I Be Sittin On Trains..."

I can little describe to you the pleasures of riding on a train through India.

Surely, I can tell you of the train: a pale, painted blue; long and lean and open; with niched cabins containing both bench seats and sleeping bunks--

Or of the view: hills of ceaseless, seamless, undulating earth; green parrots strung along the telephone wires; and a sunset of sherbet light against lavender-colored clouds and mountains,

Or the passengers: friendly, dark-skinned, mustached men with newspapers sitting cross-legged, who insist you call them "uncle"--

Or the sounds: the droning offer of the venders for "chai, chai, chai, coffee, chai"; the thurrr of shuffling from a nearby card game; the steady, lulling clack-clack-clack of iron wheels on iron rails somewhere underneath you; and the distant, fatherly whistle as the train pulls into the night, whispering softly, "Sleep sound, my darling, for indeed I know the way"--

And, because I ventured to the open door and leaned all the way through the frame, I may also tell you of the smells: from deep drawn breaths of the fresh, free air; and the crisp scent of newly cut hay--

Or, upon returning to my seat: of the soul-soothing rocking (back and forth and back) of the train upon the track; and the leisure of barefeet outstretched... and of a novel and of a pen upon a page...

But (oh!) how sorely I will fail you, friend, in telling you of the freedom and the fullness and the pleasure that is felt from my freckled nose down through my toenails--the inexplicable urge to either laugh or dance that alights upon my heart--from simply being here.

When I stretch my small body (precariously, purposefully) out the train door, and let the wind tussle my hair, and watch the light blue train continue toward that steady, setting sun--I cannot help but laugh with sheer abandon. What care have I, right now--or you? Because whether I face where the train is going, or stare fixedly at the ever-growing places where it has been, I cannot change that my feet are simply here:

On a train, in a doorway, standing still in India, on a glorious, delicious, and unbelievable adventure. So as the clacking carries on, and a four-thousand cricket choir begins to play, and I watch (good God!) the perfect, friendly starlight begin to penetrate the crisp canvas of this night, I cannot keep my silent lips from smiling.

~*~

I remember you, and wish for you

This same and wholesome bliss

And thus I sign my letter

With the warmth within a kiss.

So soon I shall return to you

Far fuller still than this

But 'til that day, keep well, my love,

And know that you are missed!

{Written the evening of 21 September, while on a train to Goa}

Freeeee-dom!!

So you know how at home, you practically have to make up a disease in order to get an excused sick absence? Well, my program in India seems to believe the exact opposite. Any time you have any small trouble, "you should go home and rest." I have a day off today because of this delightful rule.

First, a comment on Indian doctors. The process, invariably, is as follows: Sit in a matchbox-sized waiting room for fifteen minutes, enter doctor's office, be instantly asked a handful of questions, be told what is wrong with you and what could be wrong with you in the future (how do they know these things??), receive prescriptions for a minimum of 3 drugs--the max I've heard of so far has been 6--, exit the office within five minutes of entering, pay between 100-200 rupees (Am. $2-4 dollars), and lastly, visit the neighborhood "chemist," i.e. pharmacist, to pick up your 100-rupee-total prescriptions. Oh, and the drugs make you feel better by the very next day. Boom done.

Those shenanigans were yesterday. Been there done that, yea? And that brings us to today, in which I found myself, feeling right as rain, with an entire blue-skied day stretching ahead of me, impossibly and absolutely free from any obligation or expectation. I allowed myself to collapse within the thrilling vagueness of the verb "rest." I started the day with a dearly needed skype conversation, followed by a run and a long, cold, refreshing shower. I read more from Atlas Shrugged (which is turning out to be more of a bear that a blessing.. any other book suggestions?), drank some of the apple juice in our fridge, had several good conversations with friends/family back home, flipped nostalgically through dusty playlists from old friends, and watched a pirated version of Despicable Me (hilarious... more the quality of the film than the actual content, but still great... and don't judge me, homes, there was a minimal selection in my flat). Then, I gleefully fled from quarantine to meet with friends for conversation, half a tomato-basil panini, and a few stolen bites of chocolate icecream. Oh. My. Gosh.

Today was particularly extraordinary because back in real life, especially back in Davidson, I largely define my actions within a context of what I feel I should be doing. But today... Well, today was unconditionally, explicitly, invariably and unashamedly, all about me. Taking a day off from everything is an art that I have needed practice in for a long time. Hoorah!

On a different note, because it is important for you fine folk to understand/appreciate just what sort of crucial info our program director carefully selects to high-importance email us about, here's a direct copy & paste of the entire email:

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hello ALL
Coming 10th Oct.2010 at 10 Am, 10 Minutes & 10 Seconds
the TIME & DATE is
10.10.10.10.10.10
It will come once in 1000 yrs. Isn't it exciting?

Also, enjoy the studious Lord Ganesh in different posing and moods.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ha ha thanks? We're currently celebrating a festival in honor of the god Ganesh, but the randomness of this email nevertheless made me smile. I mean really... Isn't it exciting? :)

more soon,

from india,

jeannie

A Reflection

I regret it has taken me so long to write you. In fear of failing with words to describe all that I am experiencing, I have neglected many wonderful people's curiosity as to how I am doing. The long and short to that question is that I am, honestly and truly, doing well.

India is both what I had imagined and nothing like it at all. It is every bit the culture that had captivated me back in the States, perhaps even more so. I have come to find that, yes, people here are largely the same as people there, and that the unfamiliar faces, places, and experiences across a hemisphere will teach me new things about the familiar ones back home. And, of course, they will teach me new things about myself as well. I am learning to appreciate myself for exactly who I am, and realizing that this person is not so different from my self back home than I had thought. I feel myself growing stronger, standing taller, and improving my ability to love those around me. Lastly, as I had set out to do, I am learning more about what it is I aim to do during this glorious adventure called life. I am becoming more aware of where I'm headed and who I want to be, and I am gaining confidence in my ability to get there. I have made friends, am doing well in school, and am enjoying myself in the process. As I told you, I am doing well.

That being said, I could never have prepared myself for this. It is only natural to be surprised when things turn out as you never believed they could be, but it is surprising none the less. This realization applies to so many things here that I will spare your precious time the heavy list and simply leave it at that. But. I will say that it has been worlds more difficult to communicate with folks back home than I had thought; less out of a matter of will, than out of a matter of reality of circumstance. When I thought about keeping in touch, I thought about effort and the time difference. It never even crossed my mind that technology here would be any less reliable, convenient, or straightforward than it is back home, a thought that seems so obvious now. I apologize to anyone who misses me, to anyone who this decision of mine has been difficult on. Trust me, it has been difficult to be without you too. However, I also thank all of you for your support and encouragement in allowing me to do this. As I wrote in a letter to my mother yesterday, coming to India on my own has been one of the hardest things I have ever done. But I believe it has also been the most necessary. I will write again soon with more stories, but until then...

with love,

from india,

jeannie

Comparing to the Contrast

So.

I have come to the conclusion that, while discovering the differences between India and home was (and is!) part of the reason why I came here, I have spent enough time and energy doing that for right now.

I have decided that it is now time to start looking at the similarities. In the words of Uttara (pronounced "OO-tar-ah"), our program director/mom-away-from-mom, I am going to "choose happiness." Yay... Ok so that was a bit sarcastic, but I really do think this change in focus has already helped ease my homesickliness. Hokay! So far we have:

1. People honk horns when they have them. Especially in traffic.
2. Strawberry jam with warm toast tastes absolutely wondrous.
3. Regardless of if it's walking or running, going by foot is by far the best way to see a city. You miss so much if you're in a car (or a rickshaw!).
4. Public bathrooms smell terrible. 'Nuff said.
5. Laughter is the shortest distance between two people... especially if they don't speak your language.
6. Living with a roommate is hard, but the investment is always worth it.
7. Coffee shops feel like coffee shops--no matter the language of the cozy chatter.
8. People are people. They laugh and cry; sing, dance, and get angry. They generally want to do good, and are doing their best at figuring out what the heck that actually means. They are fun and bright and beautiful. And, as always, there is more to them than it appears.

That's just a sample for you fine folks. Nothing could ever replace home (and the people there), but India is starting to feel more familiar and homelike. Wahoo!

More soon,

Jeannie

P.S. In other news, I just found out that I have a house to live in for when I return in the spring. yay, yay, YAY!

Challenges by Choice

It turns out that India/being abroad is not a total walk in the park (woah! no way!). I wanted to step outside my comfort zone, and thus I am uncomfortable.

Things that are difficult:

1) Slum Children -- Turns out that I don't deal well with small kids begging. I definitely saw this coming, but it's still heartbreaking. And these adorable kids are everywhere... Majorly sad day.

2) Gender Dynamics -- Never in my life have I considered my femaleness to be a hinderance--or even particularly relevant, for that matter. And I have never allowed anyone to tell me what I can and cannot do simply on the grounds of my gender. In India, however, I am not supposed to dance in public (even when insanely loud techno music is playing in the streets for festivals), to greet strangers, to run (even though I do anyway), to go out by myself, to laugh too much, to be assertive/independent... all because I am a woman. Boo.

3) Faith -- I still don't even know how to process the myriad of world views that people believe over here. So many wonderful people, who believe so many different things....

4) Food -- At home I eat pretty simply, but all the food here is either very spicy or sickly sweet. Oh granola, how I miss thee.

5) Language -- Part of me wishes that I had gone to a Spanish- or English-speaking country because not speaking/understanding even conversational Hindi or Marathi greatly limits the amount of people I can interact with here. I'm loving learning these languages, but part of me is still frustrated.

6) Home -- Ha, yea, I miss home. It did help that I had two really great conversations last night and this morning with people from home who I care about dearly. I am making some solid friendships here; it's just difficult starting over.

That being said... "Difficulties are meant to rouse, not to discourage. The human spirit is to grow strong by conflict." -William Ellery Channing

This adventure is still very much what I want. I'm being challenged in ways I never really have been before, and I'm (constantly) learning a lot. I'm trying to stay positive--because this place really is awesome, no matter how I look at it. I want to embrace the challenges that have been put before me and to work through them with both eyes open. Prayer and encouragement are always appreciated.

With love (and determination),

from India,

Jeannie