March 14th, Pondicherry (Puducherry)
I'm writing quickly from the former French colony of Pondicherry - they just call it "Pondy" - where I've just narrowly escaped death by motorcycle. It's lovely here, like a little piece of France on the East coast of India. Yesterday we woke for the sunrise over the beach, swam in the Bay of Bengal, saw Auroville - the largest neo-hippie commune in the world - ate steak (!!), listened to some great local music, met a gorgeous German journalist, shopped for salwar kamizes, drank some beer, and slept in a guest house run by the local ashram. What a diverse city this is! Heading back to Shanti Bhavan tonight. I'll write more later. A bientot!
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Superstar!
March 6th, Shanti Bhavan
Tonight was incredible! We gave the show for the students and it went over like gangbusters. During our afternoon break, we had rehearsal and then the preparations began for the show. Beena and Mala, two of the 11th grade girls, came and put mehndi (henna designs) on our hands, and they did an amazing job – way better than the woman Amanda and I paid to do it in Hampi. We had the mehndi put on because in our dance number, I played a bride and the other girls were my bridesmaids, and in Indian weddings, the bridal party always has tons of mehndi. Anyway, after that, we were pretty much incapacitated because you have to let the henna dry on your hands and sit for an hour or two. While we were unable to use our hands, Miss Nirmala and Miss Debbie – one of the other teachers – basically dressed us. They helped us out of our clothes and into our sarees. My outfit for the show was a half-saree that belongs to one of the ninth grade students. A half-saree is a long skirt worn with a saree blouse and a dupatta (long shawl) wrapped around the waist and over the shoulder like a saree. It was teeny tiny because the women here are incredibly small. It had to be pinned a bit, but darn it, I got myself into the thing! They are all very upset that I have short hair, but they pinned it back and attached a long, black, synthetic braid to the tiny ponytail they managed to create. They pinned long garlands of jasmine flowers to the front and then put a rope of fake flowers along the braid in the back. These women get decorated to within an inch of their lives for special occasions. In addition to the hair, I had a jeweled thing that went down the middle of my forehead, earrings, a choker, a long gold necklace, tons of bangles, mehndi, a bindi, pearl strands that connected my earrings to my hair (all of this is fake, of course), and god knows what else. I weighed ten pounds more than I naturally do… and I had to dance! It was really fun getting all decked out in the traditional gear. The program started with a dance number between two of the volunteers, then another one did a martial arts demonstration, then I sang “No One is Alone,” a capella, then Amanda sang, then Michelle sang, then some of the guys played guitar and sang “Hey, Jude,” which was awesome because we all joined in on the “na na na na’s” and so did the whole school…clapping out of rhythm, of course, and finally came our dance. The music came on and the kids were going nuts! We felt like rockstars! It was so fun, having everyone cheering and singing along. We’re already planning another program for before I leave. After the show was over, everyone was in a party mood. All of the kids were running up to us, hugging us and shaking our hands and congratulating us. It was a blast.
Tonight was incredible! We gave the show for the students and it went over like gangbusters. During our afternoon break, we had rehearsal and then the preparations began for the show. Beena and Mala, two of the 11th grade girls, came and put mehndi (henna designs) on our hands, and they did an amazing job – way better than the woman Amanda and I paid to do it in Hampi. We had the mehndi put on because in our dance number, I played a bride and the other girls were my bridesmaids, and in Indian weddings, the bridal party always has tons of mehndi. Anyway, after that, we were pretty much incapacitated because you have to let the henna dry on your hands and sit for an hour or two. While we were unable to use our hands, Miss Nirmala and Miss Debbie – one of the other teachers – basically dressed us. They helped us out of our clothes and into our sarees. My outfit for the show was a half-saree that belongs to one of the ninth grade students. A half-saree is a long skirt worn with a saree blouse and a dupatta (long shawl) wrapped around the waist and over the shoulder like a saree. It was teeny tiny because the women here are incredibly small. It had to be pinned a bit, but darn it, I got myself into the thing! They are all very upset that I have short hair, but they pinned it back and attached a long, black, synthetic braid to the tiny ponytail they managed to create. They pinned long garlands of jasmine flowers to the front and then put a rope of fake flowers along the braid in the back. These women get decorated to within an inch of their lives for special occasions. In addition to the hair, I had a jeweled thing that went down the middle of my forehead, earrings, a choker, a long gold necklace, tons of bangles, mehndi, a bindi, pearl strands that connected my earrings to my hair (all of this is fake, of course), and god knows what else. I weighed ten pounds more than I naturally do… and I had to dance! It was really fun getting all decked out in the traditional gear. The program started with a dance number between two of the volunteers, then another one did a martial arts demonstration, then I sang “No One is Alone,” a capella, then Amanda sang, then Michelle sang, then some of the guys played guitar and sang “Hey, Jude,” which was awesome because we all joined in on the “na na na na’s” and so did the whole school…clapping out of rhythm, of course, and finally came our dance. The music came on and the kids were going nuts! We felt like rockstars! It was so fun, having everyone cheering and singing along. We’re already planning another program for before I leave. After the show was over, everyone was in a party mood. All of the kids were running up to us, hugging us and shaking our hands and congratulating us. It was a blast.
OK, a few more pictures from paradise
Harish, our local guide.
This elephant just blessed me!
Swimming in the lake...felt like heaven.
Elephant bathtime.
This cobra was not poisonous... or so we were told!More Hampi Pictures
This monkey loved my sunglasses!
Our Bollywood movie star looking hotel manager at the Garden Paradise.
Love this monkey! He looks like a little old man monk.
Snake charmer...for real!
Some Yoga at the temples.There's no business like weird show business
March 5th, Shanti Bhavan
Tomorrow night the volunteers are giving a surprise “program” for the students. Some of us are singing, some of us are playing instruments, and all of us are dancing. Miss Nirmala, who is becoming one of the defining characters in my stay here at Shanti Bhavan, is teaching us dances from a Tamil movie. (Tamil Nadu is the name of the state where the school is located, and it has a language, cinema, style of dance, style of music, etc. all its own.) I am in a group dance where I have been cast as the young bride (which is funny because I’m at least four years older than almost every other girl here). Our rehearsals are hilarious because not only is the dancing unusual to say the least, but Nirmala is not the most organized dance teacher.
I don’t know if I’ve described her before, but she is a plump, intense woman with long, frizzy black hair, a big smile, and a round belly. She can be a lot of fun, but she is very hard on the students and disciplines them harshly. Her husband and teenaged son live far away in Chennai and she only gets to see them on weekends. She loves to dance and is very good, but she isn’t as good at conveying her ideas to other people. Anyway, we are learning the number, which I will have to videotape, because I don’t think there’s any other way to describe it. It’s sort of frustrating if we take it too seriously because Nirms (as we call her) constantly changes the movements and doesn’t do anything consistently, but no matter what we do, the students will think we are stars.
We switched our schedule to the summer class schedule this week, which means that we have six periods in the morning, lunch, a two-hour siesta in the afternoon, two classes after nap, and assembly at 5:30. It’s nice to have the break when it’s the hottest part of the day. Today during the break, I’m going with a couple of the other girls to Hosur to buy accoutrements for the show. It should be a trip. I’ll let you know how it goes tomorrow.
Tomorrow night the volunteers are giving a surprise “program” for the students. Some of us are singing, some of us are playing instruments, and all of us are dancing. Miss Nirmala, who is becoming one of the defining characters in my stay here at Shanti Bhavan, is teaching us dances from a Tamil movie. (Tamil Nadu is the name of the state where the school is located, and it has a language, cinema, style of dance, style of music, etc. all its own.) I am in a group dance where I have been cast as the young bride (which is funny because I’m at least four years older than almost every other girl here). Our rehearsals are hilarious because not only is the dancing unusual to say the least, but Nirmala is not the most organized dance teacher.
I don’t know if I’ve described her before, but she is a plump, intense woman with long, frizzy black hair, a big smile, and a round belly. She can be a lot of fun, but she is very hard on the students and disciplines them harshly. Her husband and teenaged son live far away in Chennai and she only gets to see them on weekends. She loves to dance and is very good, but she isn’t as good at conveying her ideas to other people. Anyway, we are learning the number, which I will have to videotape, because I don’t think there’s any other way to describe it. It’s sort of frustrating if we take it too seriously because Nirms (as we call her) constantly changes the movements and doesn’t do anything consistently, but no matter what we do, the students will think we are stars.
We switched our schedule to the summer class schedule this week, which means that we have six periods in the morning, lunch, a two-hour siesta in the afternoon, two classes after nap, and assembly at 5:30. It’s nice to have the break when it’s the hottest part of the day. Today during the break, I’m going with a couple of the other girls to Hosur to buy accoutrements for the show. It should be a trip. I’ll let you know how it goes tomorrow.
Saree, Charlie!
March 2nd, Shanti Bhavan
I’m wearing my saree today – I tied it on my own, fairly respectably if I do say so myself. I feel beautiful and I think that I look pretty beautiful too. As I wrote before, the saree is such a flattering and elegant garment. It’s tied according to your body, so it fits perfectly and is made to your measurements. I feel like a goddess, floating across the ground, with my pallu (the part of the fabric that hangs over your shoulder and down your back) streaming behind me.
I’m wearing my saree today – I tied it on my own, fairly respectably if I do say so myself. I feel beautiful and I think that I look pretty beautiful too. As I wrote before, the saree is such a flattering and elegant garment. It’s tied according to your body, so it fits perfectly and is made to your measurements. I feel like a goddess, floating across the ground, with my pallu (the part of the fabric that hangs over your shoulder and down your back) streaming behind me.
It’s been really fun to see everyone’s reactions. All of the students are smiling and giggling and the teachers are so complimentary. I walked into my first class and all of the fifth graders said, “Wow, Miss, you are looking so beautiful today in your saree.” I said thank you, and then gave them a lesson on “you are looking” versus “you look.” Always have to be on the lookout for things to teach. One of the teachers, Daniel, said “When I saw you and Amanda in your sarees this morning my heart sank because there is a general feeling here that when volunteers wear sarees, they are leaving the next day. But then I asked Miss Beena and she said you are staying.” I laughed at that and was happy to know that my presence here would be noticed and missed. Even Dr. George, who is a wonderful man, but can be a bit detached to the volunteers sometimes, told me I looked pretty and complimented me on my ability to walk well in the saree. He asked Amanda and me to be out and about today during our break because there are going to be some special guests visiting the school and he wants them to see us wearing our sarees. I guess I underestimated the impact the garment would have on the way I’m seen here. It’s a huge sign of respect to wear the local clothes and I feel like I’ve officially been initiated into the club. I’m definitely going to get another one soon.
Musings...if you will
Some observations…
All Indian men have mustaches. All of them. It’s like there’s some sort of unwritten rule about it or something. Also, there are all of these signs – some of them as big as billboards – all over the place that have portraits of various mustachioed men on them. Some of these signs have one large picture and maybe five of six smaller ones, and some have many many small pictures dotting them like checker boards. We have no idea what they’re for and no one seems to be able to give us a straight answer about their significance. Are they advertisements for speaking engagements? Are they artists’ renderings of wanted criminals? Are they depictions of local gurus or the richest men in town? Are they platforms for these men to brag about their paramount abilities to grow facial hair? It remains one of India’s most elusive puzzles…
Indian people have an amazing ability to cram more people than anyone would think possible onto every vehicle available. Buses drive by with bodies smashed against windows and hanging out of doors. Auto-rickshaws speed along filled with ten small schoolgirls. (An aunto-rickshaw is basically a three wheeled electric scooter with one short bench seat behind the driver and a covered top… they’re not big). Families of five cling to each other for dear life, piled onto tiny motorcycles, weaving treacherously through oncoming traffic. Even little kids riding bicycles smush three or four deep behind rickety handle bars. No helmets, no saftey regulations, no fear.
Indian people – taxi drivers in particular – will tell you they know where something is, even if they have no idea. They will then proceed to stop every five minutes to ask someone else where it is. None of the people they ask will know either. It’s very efficient.
The stray dogs here (and there are thousands of them) are the saddest, cutest, most heartbreaking things for me to see. They have such woeful eyes and they don’t even beg, they just stand, looking hungry and alone, and it kills me. I know, there are millions of poor people and starving children, and of course those people affect me too, but this weekend I was especially touched by the dogs. There were these two beautiful little puppies in one of the temples we visitied and I couldn’t touch them in case they were sick or had bugs, but it was all I could do to not scoop them up and hug them. I got yelled at by my traveling companions for emptying most of one of our water bottles out to give the puppies drinks. You should have seen them though, it was so hot and they lapped up the water like they hadn’t had a drink for days. I'm a sap, I know...
All Indian men have mustaches. All of them. It’s like there’s some sort of unwritten rule about it or something. Also, there are all of these signs – some of them as big as billboards – all over the place that have portraits of various mustachioed men on them. Some of these signs have one large picture and maybe five of six smaller ones, and some have many many small pictures dotting them like checker boards. We have no idea what they’re for and no one seems to be able to give us a straight answer about their significance. Are they advertisements for speaking engagements? Are they artists’ renderings of wanted criminals? Are they depictions of local gurus or the richest men in town? Are they platforms for these men to brag about their paramount abilities to grow facial hair? It remains one of India’s most elusive puzzles…
Indian people have an amazing ability to cram more people than anyone would think possible onto every vehicle available. Buses drive by with bodies smashed against windows and hanging out of doors. Auto-rickshaws speed along filled with ten small schoolgirls. (An aunto-rickshaw is basically a three wheeled electric scooter with one short bench seat behind the driver and a covered top… they’re not big). Families of five cling to each other for dear life, piled onto tiny motorcycles, weaving treacherously through oncoming traffic. Even little kids riding bicycles smush three or four deep behind rickety handle bars. No helmets, no saftey regulations, no fear.
Indian people – taxi drivers in particular – will tell you they know where something is, even if they have no idea. They will then proceed to stop every five minutes to ask someone else where it is. None of the people they ask will know either. It’s very efficient.
The stray dogs here (and there are thousands of them) are the saddest, cutest, most heartbreaking things for me to see. They have such woeful eyes and they don’t even beg, they just stand, looking hungry and alone, and it kills me. I know, there are millions of poor people and starving children, and of course those people affect me too, but this weekend I was especially touched by the dogs. There were these two beautiful little puppies in one of the temples we visitied and I couldn’t touch them in case they were sick or had bugs, but it was all I could do to not scoop them up and hug them. I got yelled at by my traveling companions for emptying most of one of our water bottles out to give the puppies drinks. You should have seen them though, it was so hot and they lapped up the water like they hadn’t had a drink for days. I'm a sap, I know...
Hooray for Hampi!
I loved the way this guy looked.
Me at sunrise in Hampi - I'm sitting on the roof of a ruined temple on the top of a huge hill.
The Temple elephant getting her morning bath. Isn't she cute? Her name is Lakshmi.
Cobras!
Our new Indian friends and swimming buddies.February 28th, Hampi
This was one of the most incredible days of my life! I woke up at 5:15 and climbed a mountain to watch the sun rise, I watched the temple elephant get a bath in the river, I ate breakfast outside while looking out at a beautiful riverside view, I lay in a hammock and cuddled a cute dog, I was blessed by the temple elephant and even got to touch her trunk, I came across a snake charmer and held a cobra in my hands (ok, its venom had been taken out), I held a little monkey and fed him bananas, I rode on the back of a scooter to temples and a crystal clear lake surrounded by boulders and swam in my clothes, I got an Ayurvedic massage and had henna applied to my hands, and then I slept all night on the upper berth of an Indian train. I don’t think I can even write any more than that. It was just unbelievable. I think I might love India. Yeah… I love it.
This was one of the most incredible days of my life! I woke up at 5:15 and climbed a mountain to watch the sun rise, I watched the temple elephant get a bath in the river, I ate breakfast outside while looking out at a beautiful riverside view, I lay in a hammock and cuddled a cute dog, I was blessed by the temple elephant and even got to touch her trunk, I came across a snake charmer and held a cobra in my hands (ok, its venom had been taken out), I held a little monkey and fed him bananas, I rode on the back of a scooter to temples and a crystal clear lake surrounded by boulders and swam in my clothes, I got an Ayurvedic massage and had henna applied to my hands, and then I slept all night on the upper berth of an Indian train. I don’t think I can even write any more than that. It was just unbelievable. I think I might love India. Yeah… I love it.
Ridin' that train...
February 26th, The Hampi Express
I’m laying in my upper berth on an overnight train to Hampi, waiting for the gentle rocking to put me to sleep. Hampi is the common name for Vijayanagar, a 500 year old ruined city in Karnataka, which is the state directly next to and above Tamil Nadu, where Shanti Bhavan is located. We left from Shanti Bhavan this afternoon and stopped in Hosur on the way to Bangalore to pick up our custom saree blouses from the tailor. They are beautiful and I can’t wait to wear my saree when I get back. We then continued on to Bangalore where we went on a quest to find Domino’s Pizza. We had all been deprived of western food for so long that the thought of a real, honest-to-goodness American junk food pizza was driving us wild with desire…don’t judge! What happened next was almost unbelievable. Our driver didn’t know where the place was, so we drove all over searching for the right street (of course he wouldn’t ask directions). We finally found a Pizza Hut, but their power was out. The Pizza Hut employees apologized and directed us to a Domino’s a block away. We practically sprinted there and ordered hungrily. We were sitting, drinking our sodas and dreaming of the feast to come, when, you guessed it, the power went out! The pizza-wallah told us it could be about a half hour before it came back on, so we sighed and then went out to walk around for a bit. When we got around the corner, we saw that the Pizza Hut was open and had full power! I guess there was only room for one pizza place in that neighborhood. We decided that we would go back to Domino’s, get a refund, and eat at Pizza Hut instead. We all got our money, and we had just stepped out the door, when… the power came back on! The employees chased us down the block and begged us to come back – assuring us that the pizza would be ready in eight minutes. We were all laughing too hard to say no, so we went back inside. Incidentay the pizza tasted great… worth every hassle.
So now I’m laying here, feeling incredibly dreamy and adventurous. There really is something so charming and nostalgic about a train – especially a sleeper train. Speeding through the moonlight in rural India on the way to a ruined ghost city… what could be more exotic?
I’m going to try to surrender to the lullaby of this train and get a good night’s sleep. I wake up in Hampi tomorrow and hit the ground running. Goodnight!
February 27th, Morning
I woke up at about 7 today and couldn’t believe how well I had slept. Initially I had a few moments of worrying I was going to fall off the bunk, or have my stuff stolen, but I held onto the chains that were keeping the bed attached to the ceiling and felt secure enough to fall back asleep… with my feet wound securely through the straps of my backpack and my passport pouch and camera wrapped tightly around my waist. I got out of bed and walked to the end of the car where I could open the door and have an unfiltered view of the countryside. I don’t think there is any better sensation than a warm, early morning breeze blowing through your hair as you watch the scenery fly by. It really makes you feel like you’re going somewhere… buth literally and metaphorically. Ooh! We’re here. Gotta run!
I’m laying in my upper berth on an overnight train to Hampi, waiting for the gentle rocking to put me to sleep. Hampi is the common name for Vijayanagar, a 500 year old ruined city in Karnataka, which is the state directly next to and above Tamil Nadu, where Shanti Bhavan is located. We left from Shanti Bhavan this afternoon and stopped in Hosur on the way to Bangalore to pick up our custom saree blouses from the tailor. They are beautiful and I can’t wait to wear my saree when I get back. We then continued on to Bangalore where we went on a quest to find Domino’s Pizza. We had all been deprived of western food for so long that the thought of a real, honest-to-goodness American junk food pizza was driving us wild with desire…don’t judge! What happened next was almost unbelievable. Our driver didn’t know where the place was, so we drove all over searching for the right street (of course he wouldn’t ask directions). We finally found a Pizza Hut, but their power was out. The Pizza Hut employees apologized and directed us to a Domino’s a block away. We practically sprinted there and ordered hungrily. We were sitting, drinking our sodas and dreaming of the feast to come, when, you guessed it, the power went out! The pizza-wallah told us it could be about a half hour before it came back on, so we sighed and then went out to walk around for a bit. When we got around the corner, we saw that the Pizza Hut was open and had full power! I guess there was only room for one pizza place in that neighborhood. We decided that we would go back to Domino’s, get a refund, and eat at Pizza Hut instead. We all got our money, and we had just stepped out the door, when… the power came back on! The employees chased us down the block and begged us to come back – assuring us that the pizza would be ready in eight minutes. We were all laughing too hard to say no, so we went back inside. Incidentay the pizza tasted great… worth every hassle.
So now I’m laying here, feeling incredibly dreamy and adventurous. There really is something so charming and nostalgic about a train – especially a sleeper train. Speeding through the moonlight in rural India on the way to a ruined ghost city… what could be more exotic?
I’m going to try to surrender to the lullaby of this train and get a good night’s sleep. I wake up in Hampi tomorrow and hit the ground running. Goodnight!
February 27th, Morning
I woke up at about 7 today and couldn’t believe how well I had slept. Initially I had a few moments of worrying I was going to fall off the bunk, or have my stuff stolen, but I held onto the chains that were keeping the bed attached to the ceiling and felt secure enough to fall back asleep… with my feet wound securely through the straps of my backpack and my passport pouch and camera wrapped tightly around my waist. I got out of bed and walked to the end of the car where I could open the door and have an unfiltered view of the countryside. I don’t think there is any better sensation than a warm, early morning breeze blowing through your hair as you watch the scenery fly by. It really makes you feel like you’re going somewhere… buth literally and metaphorically. Ooh! We’re here. Gotta run!
Ho-Sur!
February 22nd, Shanti Bhavan
The last two days were so much fun! Yesterday we went into Hosur early – we left at 9a.m., right after breakfast – and spent all day there. Some of the volunteers went to Chennai for the weekend, so there were only four of us and since it was a smaller group, it was much easier to get around together. First we split up for a bit and Amanda and I went saree shopping. (I always thought it was “sari,” but they spell it the other way here… of course half the population is illiterate… I digress.) That was a blast. We picked out the saree fabric – she got a beautiful salmon colored one with peacocks embroidered on it and I picked a deep teal and burgundy with tan dots and flowers done in beadwork. Once we picked the main fabric, the salesgirl helped us buy the lining for the blouses and the petticoats. Sarees are usually made of sheer fabric so there needs to be a significant amount of underpinnings worn to keep everything modest… and then you show your belly. I’m not saying I totally understand this custom, but I have to say that I think sarees are one of the most beautiful items of clothing women can wear. They always look dignified and elegant, even on the women that are wearing them to do hard labor in the fields.
Anyway, after we bought our saree accoutrements, we went over to the post office across the street. This place looked like it was right out of Casablanca or something. Small, crowded, no computers or modern equipment, low dirty glass partitions, this is not an institution that seems very official or reliable. We bought stamps and Amanda mailed a letter home. The stamps here are not lick-able, nor are they self-stick. You have to glue them on using a pot of very messy communal glue and your finger, and then deposit the letter in the box marked “Other Places” in front of the post office.
When that adventure was complete, we went on a quest for a tailor to make the blouses for our sarees. We found one on the upper level of a row of stores a few blocks down. He took our measurements and charged us Rs. 100 (about two dollars) each, and said the blouses would be ready in a few days. We are both so excited to get them so we can wear our beautiful new Indian outfits! I can’t wait. Mine is so pretty!
We went to use the internet afterwards, but we discovered that every third Saturday of the month, Hosur doesn’t have power until 6 p.m. It blew my mind to think of the fact that an entire city can operate pretty much the same way without power as with it. What if that happened in America? No one could carry on their business normally without electricity. The internet place was running on battery power for a while, so we all got to jump on for about thirty minutes – long enough to upload my blog and check some email – and then we got the boot.
Next stop was the train station, where we were going to buy tickets for the train trip to Hampi some of us are taking next weekend. That was an experience, because there isn’t really such a thing as waiting in a line here. You have to basically shove people out of the way to get to the ticket window, where they hand you a complicated form to fill out in order to buy the tickets. You have to navigate an extremely complicated schedule (luckily we already knew what train we needed, thanks to Mr. Aneesh from Shanti Bhavan, who helped us do some research), and then they need your name, age, address in India, and a number of other pieces of info. I let Arjun and Amanda do most of the work because I was feeling a little nauseous, but they did a great job and the tickets are all set.
Next was lunch at Janani – our usual haunt - where we ordered french fries along with our butter chicken masala with some apprehension. The fries came out first and they were just like at home! It was so comforting to eat something familiar. After our long lunch, we did more walking and browsing, and we came across a store that sold all sorts of pirated DVDs and music. I’m mildly ashamed to admit that we bought quite a lot of them… come on, when you find a DVD with four movies on it for the equivalent of one dollar, you have to buy it! We continued walking for a bit and then, exhausted, sat down for a cool drink at a restaurant while we waited for the Shanti Bhavan van to come pick us up and drive us home.
I was so tired when I got home, but I jumped into the shower and headed out for choir practice. We continued our rehearsal of songs the kids already knew for the program to be presented on Sunday night (tonight).
I was extremely happy to find that the fifth grade, who I had assigned the job of writing responses to the pen-pal letters some of the kids in Billy Elliot had written, had completed the task and done amazingly well. The letters were well-written, sweet, enthusiastic, and inquisitive and I can’t wait for my kids back home to read them and write back. I’m putting them in the mail first thing Monday.
We finished the night with some CNN news and went to bed.
The last two days were so much fun! Yesterday we went into Hosur early – we left at 9a.m., right after breakfast – and spent all day there. Some of the volunteers went to Chennai for the weekend, so there were only four of us and since it was a smaller group, it was much easier to get around together. First we split up for a bit and Amanda and I went saree shopping. (I always thought it was “sari,” but they spell it the other way here… of course half the population is illiterate… I digress.) That was a blast. We picked out the saree fabric – she got a beautiful salmon colored one with peacocks embroidered on it and I picked a deep teal and burgundy with tan dots and flowers done in beadwork. Once we picked the main fabric, the salesgirl helped us buy the lining for the blouses and the petticoats. Sarees are usually made of sheer fabric so there needs to be a significant amount of underpinnings worn to keep everything modest… and then you show your belly. I’m not saying I totally understand this custom, but I have to say that I think sarees are one of the most beautiful items of clothing women can wear. They always look dignified and elegant, even on the women that are wearing them to do hard labor in the fields.
Anyway, after we bought our saree accoutrements, we went over to the post office across the street. This place looked like it was right out of Casablanca or something. Small, crowded, no computers or modern equipment, low dirty glass partitions, this is not an institution that seems very official or reliable. We bought stamps and Amanda mailed a letter home. The stamps here are not lick-able, nor are they self-stick. You have to glue them on using a pot of very messy communal glue and your finger, and then deposit the letter in the box marked “Other Places” in front of the post office.
When that adventure was complete, we went on a quest for a tailor to make the blouses for our sarees. We found one on the upper level of a row of stores a few blocks down. He took our measurements and charged us Rs. 100 (about two dollars) each, and said the blouses would be ready in a few days. We are both so excited to get them so we can wear our beautiful new Indian outfits! I can’t wait. Mine is so pretty!
We went to use the internet afterwards, but we discovered that every third Saturday of the month, Hosur doesn’t have power until 6 p.m. It blew my mind to think of the fact that an entire city can operate pretty much the same way without power as with it. What if that happened in America? No one could carry on their business normally without electricity. The internet place was running on battery power for a while, so we all got to jump on for about thirty minutes – long enough to upload my blog and check some email – and then we got the boot.
Next stop was the train station, where we were going to buy tickets for the train trip to Hampi some of us are taking next weekend. That was an experience, because there isn’t really such a thing as waiting in a line here. You have to basically shove people out of the way to get to the ticket window, where they hand you a complicated form to fill out in order to buy the tickets. You have to navigate an extremely complicated schedule (luckily we already knew what train we needed, thanks to Mr. Aneesh from Shanti Bhavan, who helped us do some research), and then they need your name, age, address in India, and a number of other pieces of info. I let Arjun and Amanda do most of the work because I was feeling a little nauseous, but they did a great job and the tickets are all set.
Next was lunch at Janani – our usual haunt - where we ordered french fries along with our butter chicken masala with some apprehension. The fries came out first and they were just like at home! It was so comforting to eat something familiar. After our long lunch, we did more walking and browsing, and we came across a store that sold all sorts of pirated DVDs and music. I’m mildly ashamed to admit that we bought quite a lot of them… come on, when you find a DVD with four movies on it for the equivalent of one dollar, you have to buy it! We continued walking for a bit and then, exhausted, sat down for a cool drink at a restaurant while we waited for the Shanti Bhavan van to come pick us up and drive us home.
I was so tired when I got home, but I jumped into the shower and headed out for choir practice. We continued our rehearsal of songs the kids already knew for the program to be presented on Sunday night (tonight).
I was extremely happy to find that the fifth grade, who I had assigned the job of writing responses to the pen-pal letters some of the kids in Billy Elliot had written, had completed the task and done amazingly well. The letters were well-written, sweet, enthusiastic, and inquisitive and I can’t wait for my kids back home to read them and write back. I’m putting them in the mail first thing Monday.
We finished the night with some CNN news and went to bed.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Oh, land of paradoxes!
Hi everyone,
I know you were all expecting some great posts from me this weekend, and believe me, I have some amazing stories and pictures to share, but I am in Bangalore - the Silicon Valley of the East - and I cannot get a reliable internet connection. I can't upload anything. I'll write more as soon as I can. Sorry for the disappointment.
Elizabeth
I know you were all expecting some great posts from me this weekend, and believe me, I have some amazing stories and pictures to share, but I am in Bangalore - the Silicon Valley of the East - and I cannot get a reliable internet connection. I can't upload anything. I'll write more as soon as I can. Sorry for the disappointment.
Elizabeth
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
