November

Hello everyone,

Sorry that I have seriously fallen off the wagon. I will try to post more often, but perhaps in smaller and more manageable blurbs.

Today is Thanksgiving for all of you people in the States, and I am so jealous! One thing I miss so badly about home is the variety of food, and thinking about all the food on tables and wonderful family and friends surrounding it is making me more homesick.

I have been having some health issues recently, which has been scary. I went to the hospital here and got an MRI because I was having problems with my vision and bad headaches, and it turns out that there was a buildup of pressure in my brain. However, everything else was normal, and I got some super cool pictures of my brain! How often do you get to see that? I have taken the prescribed medications and things are getting better, but they're not 100% yet. Still waiting with crossed fingers.

In other news, my dad and Troy will be here in ONE WEEK. I am nervous and excited, because I have been looking forward to this for months and months, and now it is actually happening.

I have a lot of strong feelings about everything that is happening now, though, because I can't wait to see my boys, but that also means that the program is coming to an end, and I will have to leave my host family and friends. I am also nervous about re-entry into American culture, because things here are just so drastically different than anything at home, and things like automatically hot water from the tap and fitted sheets will be insane.

Okay, I am off now! I have just finished most of my final papers and such, so this weekend I am planning on doing present shopping. We'll see how it goes!

Love,

Rose

I'm alive!

Hi friends and family! I am alive! I am just lazy.

I will update soon, I promise. This weekend is our Independent travel weekend, and the girls are all going to Orcchha (I'm pretty sure that's spelled incorrectly).

Only six weeks left in the program, and only five until I see my dad and Troy!!

Also I'm 21 now! Woohoo.

Love to all.

October reading

October at last! And in 25 days, I will (finally) be 21! I am excited that I will be allowed into bars. I don’t want to drink anything there, because bars are expensive. But maybe I will just hang out in them for kicks. Another girl in my program has her birthday on October 30^th, so we are thinking of doing a joint birthday dessert night or something. (Also two other girls’ birthdays are on November 11^th and 12^th, so we’ll get to celebrate again!)

Wow I have so many things I want to talk about. I really need to update this blog more, because otherwise my rambling thoughts have even less structure than they normally do. For this post, I am going to make a list: 1. The Namesake. 2. Sarnath. 3. The Ramayana. 4. Slumdog Millionaire. Okay, here goes! (Edit: I have decided to split these up to make it less intimidating to read.)

First off, I want to talk about books! Books are possibly my favorite things, after air and water. They are certainly better than people most of the time. Anyhoo, I brought Gene Wolfe’s The Fifth Head of Cerberus and Sherlock Holmes with me to India and finished them both before we even got to Varanasi. Oops. So a couple of weeks ago I went to a teeny tiny book shop (I am not exaggerating; the shop is one closet-sized room) and purchased Jhumpa Lahiri’s The Namesake.  The cover had pictures from the movie, which would normally deter me from purchasing it, but I was desperate.

For those of you who don’t know, The Namesake is about a first-generation Indian couple who moves to the United States and begin their family. The father has a special connection to the Russian writer Nikolai Gogol, and so they name their first son after him. Gogol grows up to resent his name and identity, and the readers are given a look into the lives of first-generation immigrants and their second-generation children, and the struggle to find and comprehend one’s identity.

The book, as you can imagine, is not an especially cheerful read, but it is enjoyable nonetheless. I enjoyed it immensely, but I think I was able to understand it in a dual context considering my current location. It was interesting to read about the concrete floors inside the houses and the clothing and food and other quirks of India and actually to be able to relate to said experiences. Reading about Ashima’s experience of moving to Cambridge and feeling like an outsider was definitely relatable. Though she speaks English, she feels as if everyone is staring at her and wondering about her accent, and finds it difficult to make any American friends or even acquaintances. I unfortunately do not have the advantage of speaking Hindi, but I do feel that everyone stares and notices me. Well, they do. Not a day passes where someone stops to stare at me or watch me suspiciously, and while I am making friends within my program, I do not have any Indian friends outside of my host family. Of course, I do have the luxury of travel, and I can bear these difficulties fairly easily because there is a definite ending point to them.

Sarnath/The Ramayana

That was a paraphrasing of my entire thought process, but I do want to get onto other topics! Okay, what’s next on my list? That’s right, Sarnath! This should be pretty short:

This past weekend, we took a field trip with our religion teacher to Sarnath, the place where the Buddha gave his first sermon. It was boiling, and I was glad I happened to have my umbrella to use for a little bit of shade. Most of the buildings that were once there (mostly monasteries and stupas) had been torn down by a ruler of Varanasi who wanted building materials for a mansion, including the grand one built by Emperor Ashoka. There was still one large stupa that had been overlooked and bore the marks of several centuries of decoration. While it was originally just brick, the stupa now has layers of incised and decorated stone on top of the brick. On the way back to the bus, our teacher bought us some crackers as a snack. I ended up being the one voted to hold everything, and as we were walking down the street, several hungry-looking children followed us and asked me for food over and over. I didn’t know what to do and felt horrible and helpless. I know that giving money to children really does not help them, but food? We had so much extra, and I’m sure no one would have minded giving the biscuits away. But still, giving food to one person can be dangerous, as there are so many who have so little and they may swamp you. I have no solution or any well-fleshed ideas, but I do know that it is awful. India can be beautiful and majestic, but there is also a part that people do not want to talk about, and coming face to face with that reality is a shock, to say the least.

Okay, topic three. The Ramayana. The Ramayana is an Indian epic that tells the tales of Rama, an avatar of Vishnu, as he travels the world and fights demons with his brother, Lakshmana, and his wife, Sita. Last night outside of our program house there was a performance of one of the scenes from the Ramayana, where Rama strings, shoots, and breaks a bow that no one else had even been able to lift, and wins Sita’s hand in marriage.

The actors were all men, and dressed in fancy-looking costumes. There were some small thrusts, but mainly they were in the field within a fence strung together that morning with bamboo and rope. People crowded around outside the fence and inside the fence as well. It was not the sort of performance that we have in the states, with a seated audience and a formal stage. There were children throwing flowers at one another and playing tag through the middle of the scene, and a man stood by each of the speaking actors, reading the lines to them before they projected out to the audience. This seemed to be the norm, however, and no one was fazed. There were people there with lighted toys and masks and ice cream and snacks, and I bought a “feast bar” that ended up being pretty good. It was certainly not what I had expected, and I did enjoy being part of the crowd.

Slumdog Millionaire

Okay, fourth and last: Slumdog Millionaire. I just (like an hour ago) rewatched this movie and made so many different observations about it than when I had first seen it. First of all, I could understand a lot of the simple Hindi (yay!!), even when they didn’t provide English subtitles. I also realized how much of the movie is in English, which puzzles me a bit. I suppose it was produced for an English-speaking audience, which is evident in other aspects of the film as well. For example, the main characters throughout the entire story are wearing extremely western clothing, something that happens rarely here (at least in Uttar Pradesh, where I am and where parts of the movie take place). The Indians I’ve met rarely wear western clothing, and women would certainly not even leave the house in the garb that Latika, the love interest, wears. (Slight tangent: Today Amy and I took Riti, our host sister, to a café in the morning for a snack, and she pointed out some Americans to us and told us that they looked really silly. She said that they were all showing so much skin that it looked like they were in their underwear, and then giggled. Most visitors do not know this, I suppose, and just walk around in what is considered underwear here, getting even more stares than they normally would.)

At the same time, I appreciated the visual aspects of the film more and more, as I’ve been to similar places. There are a few slum areas near us, which we have to be cautious about, but nothing like what they show in the movie. Also, I heard that there was some controversy about the use of the word “slumdog,” as it is a pretty insulting thing to call someone, and was perhaps not used respectfully. Also, the movie does not mention caste at all, which is something that is so incredibly present in every aspect of life here. Perhaps this omission was purposeful, and served to allow Jamal to become a “slumdog” millionaire. (Not that caste can be equated to wealth—the two are almost entirely separate.) Unfortunately as well, children born to economically or socially disadvantaged families, and especially orphans, have a very slim chance at bettering their circumstances so dramatically. I did find the part about the economics and business side of child beggars interesting, though. I would like to research the topic more someday.

All right, I have finished my essay! Thanks for sticking with it. As always, I welcome constructive criticism or comments.

Things!

25-09-2013

I realize that my last post was rather heavy (and also lacking in personal adventures), so here comes a lighter and hopefully less serious post about my life.

Where to start? I am currently in my room with my Christmas (or Diwali) lights on, and my fan on full blast. My favorite thing to do after class is come home, take off my Indian clothes, and lie under the fan in a tank top and underwear for several minutes. I would say that it is a guilty pleasure, but it is almost necessary to keep me from dying from heat, or something like that.

All drama aside, things here have been settling fairly well. I have been here for over a month, and am finally working my way to a routine. There are still things that I find surprising, in both positive and negative ways. For example, the other day I was walking to a café when a man riding a bicycle passed me. Attached to his bicycle was a wide cart, and on the cart were tied about eight goats. Yes, tied. They were all on their bellies with their legs underneath them, and tied down to the cart and to one another with a piece of twine. None of them looked particularly distressed; in fact, they looked around with curiosity, almost seeming to enjoy their private carriage. I regret that I didn’t have my camera with me, because I doubt that I will ever see anything like that again. On the flip side, there are also unpleasant surprises, like rickshaw drivers following you for blocks, asking if you need a ride and unfazed when you yell “NO!” at them in Hindi. These people aren’t usually dangerous, but man, are they a bother. I have a serious need for some Hindi expletives, or at least some rude hand gestures.

Things with my host family are going well, though the family conducts itself in a way that I am entirely unfamiliar with, and often don’t know how to function in. Our host mother, Sarika, cooks dinner for everyone, and serves us (and often our host sister as well) dinner around 7:30 every night. We are expected to just sit and wait for our food to come on round silver plates, and after we finish we put them in a bin on the floor. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her eat, for she waits until her husband gets home (around 10:00 or 11:00, I believe) so she can serve him and then finally sit down to eat as well. Our grandmother seems to wait as well, though she is a mysterious force in the home, yelling Hindi and giving us meaningful but indiscernible looks as we eat our food.

A woman comes every day to clean all the dishes and clean the house as well, so our host sister, Riti, has not been brought up to be neat. Quite the opposite, really. She is also incredibly destructive, to a point where I have no words left to say. Last night she sang us a song about poop, finished her dinner and threw her plate on the ground, wiped her face and hands on a newspaper and then on a doll, then proceeded to pick up the doll and use it to hit me on the head, an activity she seems to find particularly rewarding. Well, as long as one of us is having fun it’s okay, I guess. She seems to hit me out of affection or some other strange emotion, or at least that is what I’m telling myself. Still, I do like her a lot. She is smart and silly and fun, as long as she is breaking her own things and maybe taking a break from violence.

School has continued to be frustrating, though it has been inspiration for some very good doodles. I have talked to several people about the class format, but nothing has seemed to change much. I think the problem is that so far I have been respectful and sweet and quiet. It’s time to let the real me out! Of course, I will still broach the topic respectfully, but I need to be firm and quietly angry. We’ll see if I can channel that. I tend to be the “good cop” in situations like these, but I think it’s about time for a role change.

We are in the middle of week five, and our semester is only fifteen or sixteen weeks. During week eight we have a week-long travel period, and two weeks after that is our independent travel weekend. When we get back from that, we will have only about a month left. While India has been confusing and hot and scary, I really am enjoying myself here, and I will feel strange leaving.

Well, those are my ramblings for today. Thank you for putting up with them. Stay tuned for next week, when I will relate my soul-bearing origin story from ordinary shmuck to formidable superhero!

Women in India

24-09-2013

We’ve been talking a lot about women’s status in society, and while I thought I knew about many of the issues present in India today, it’s completely different to read about them in my cozy dorm room in upstate New York and to walk amongst them and feel the societal expectations all around me. Something that has struck me is the discussion about child marriage. Southeast Asia has a huge number of child marriages each year, and apparently India accounts for 40% of that number. Even though individuals are not legally allowed to marry until age 18 for females and age 21 for males, the sad fact is that this law has not done much to protect young girls and women. The government cannot intervene unless the marriage is legally arranged, and this law has only caused child marriages to occur more secretively. Child brides are at high risk of being exposed to domestic violence, in-law torture or starvation, death from pregnancy or childbirth complications, STDs, and (not surprisingly, after this list) severe depression. We have been talking about reasons for child marriage, and while some of the explanations make some sense to me, I still feel that there is something missing. We have been told that child marriage began in India when the Moguls began to invade, as a way to protect them. If they were given to another family, they would have a man and another set of parents to keep them safe. It was also explained as a “solution” to rape, by which I assume they mean rape from invaders. Economically, child marriage allows poorer families to have one less mouth to feed and to pay a lower dowry rate.

We have also been told in our Women’s Studies class that women in Ancient India were free and equal to men, though the evidence that we have been shown has seemed unreliable and questionable. It seems to be a widely accepted idea, along with the notion that women’s rights began to be restricted out of concern for their safety from invaders.

What upsets me about these dialogues is not necessarily the topic, because I had steeled myself for difficult discussions. What makes me angry is the way they are presented. I haven’t heard any accounts of child marriage from a woman who actually was a child bride, and there doesn’t seem to be any solid evidence about the speculation about ancient Indian women’s rights. It seems to me that these issues are presented with a certain degree of detachment. I want to know the why behind these questions. Why does child marriage really exist and continue? How can we actually stop it? And why, if women were equal to men, would they allow their rights to be taken away from them? If there were important priestesses and queens and speakers that were highly educated, how were they duped into giving up all their agency? I don’t know solutions to these questions, otherwise there would be an answer key at the bottom of the page. But I want someone to acknowledge that these are legitimate questions and learn about the debates that surround the multitude of issues surrounding women in India (and the world).

Recently, with the public eye on the violent rapes occurring in India, I have learned a bit more about the cultural stigma of rape here. If a girl tells her family that she has been raped or sexually assaulted, she becomes damaged goods, and can no longer be married. If her family supports her in her search for the rapist, there is a slim chance that he will be found or arrested. And if he does happen to come into police custody and is convicted of rape, he and his victim must marry. The recent case in Delhi is unusual, and may have to do with national attention and pressure, and perhaps these men are being used as an example. While I would like to think that no one wants to promote rape, this is what we Americans call “rape culture” at its peak. Of course, my judgments and observations are based on my American upbringing, and my ridiculous feminist assertion that society ought to be egalitarian, with men and women on equal standing. I realize that as an outsider looking in, I may not have the experience or right to judge. But I think that listening different angle of view can also be a good wake-up call. If only someone would listen.

Photos!

Oh, also! I promised some pictures, and completely forgot. Here are some, I think. I'm not entirely sure how to use this website.

The Red Fort in Delhi (I studied this in my Islamic art history class).

The largest mosque in India (in Delhi).

Some muqarnas in the Delhi mosque.

My horrible picture of some elephants on the streets of New Delhi!

The Imam told us this was a hair from the Prophet Muhammad's beard. Apparently his hair was naturally reddish, so that is why people use henna today to color their hair.

The Prophet Muhammad's sandal.

One of many cows on the streets of Varanasi.

My house-mate, Amy! (She didn't like this picture so don't tell her that I used it.)

A typical Indian storefront with snacks and water (and chai to the left of the frame).

A bad picture of me in front of a temple at Banaras Hindu University.

Godaulia, a town nearby.

The story thus far

18-09-2013

Dear friends,

Thank you for your patience with me as I bumble along with this blog. My journey thus far has been exciting and insane, but I should definitely commit to posting at least once a week, otherwise I will not be able to include everything!

We are in the middle of the third week of classes, and things have progressed. I have tried to start discussions in my class which have half worked out, but sometimes end up in tangential discussions which I still do not understand. Nevertheless, I will continue my efforts. The readings for most of the classes are interesting, but the teachers often only refer to them in passing, which can be irritating. However, I have had a couple of very fun and engaging conversations with some of my other classmates, so that certainly helps to keep me motivated.

Practical yoga classes have also started (at 6:30am on Mondays and Thursdays), and that has been interesting as well. So far what I’ve gleaned from my readings on yoga theory and my discussions with our teacher is that yoga in India is much less about the physicality of yoga and more about the mindfulness. Of course, the physical and mental efforts have to remain balanced, but I suppose I am more used to viewing yoga as a “workout,” not a time for meditation and reflection. As it starts to get cooler in Varanasi, we will move up to the roof and practice up there, which I am quite looking forward to.

We didn’t end up going to the Taj Mahal last weekend because of the train tickets. Apparently in India trains are quite popular and crowded, and therefore one must buy them significantly in advance. There are also several classes of seats that are available for purchase, some of which we were warned against. Most of the train rides tend to be fairly long (some even up to 24 hours), so they are outfitted with sleeping bunks. This Friday we are all planning to get together and buy tickets for our next completely free weekend (which is not for a while—we have field trips for classes nearly every weekend).

I definitely have to start doing research on surrounding areas, as we have a long independent travel weekend coming up, and plans need to be confirmed well ahead of the travel date. Also, my dad and Troy are planning to come visit me (!!!!), so I have to figure out the best places to take them and try to plan that out as soon as possible. Obviously the Taj Mahal is a must, but there are so many interesting things that are available (like desert camel safaris with live music and dance at night, hikes in the mountains where tigers are quite common, a city that is famous for its ghosts, and so on and so forth). I just have to figure out the right way to schedule them all and the cheapest (and safest) way to do it as well!

So far, even though I came to India concerned about safety, it hasn’t been a huge issue. Though walking on the street is always dangerous, it’s unavoidable and something that local Varanasi-goers deal with daily. People stare at me a lot and one group of Indians asked to take pictures with me, but no one has tried to kidnap or kill me (yet). People have mostly commented on my lip piercings, looking horrified when I tell them that yes, the studs go through my lip. A couple of people have also commented on my race, seeming confused when I told them I was American. I suppose they encounter mostly Caucasian visitors and tourists, but explaining that my family has lived in the U.S. for generations to shopkeepers is always slightly uncomfortable.

Actually, for the most part, we’ve been told to ignore people who specifically want our attention. Many small children greet us as we walk down the street, and while replying may seem friendly, it can also be understood as a form of encouragement and put you at risk to be pestered (and possibly pickpocketed) for a while. We are offered rickshaw rides every few steps, and shopkeepers yell out, “Madame, come look at my shop!” from every direction. I did find it amusing being called “madame” for the first few times, but I’ve decided now that I want to earn that title. Someday when I am a rich and famous _______ (fill in career), people may refer to me as Madame.

Houses tend to be dark in Varanasi (and India as a whole), which I found depressing at first. But this week I’ve attained two strings of Christmas/Diwali lights, 50 tea lights (and small clay cups to put them in), clove-scented oil, and an oil diffuser. I have also hung a tapestry near my bed. Slowly I am making it homier, which is improving my attitude towards nearly everything.

Well, this has been a long post. Before I go, I want to relate to you all something that happened yesterday. My host mother, Sarika-ji (the –ji suffix denotes admiration and respect), has a five-month-old baby boy. Now, babies in India don’t tend to wear diapers, so I am not honestly sure how their parents deal with the inevitable. However, yesterday Amy and I had a little check-in with our family and Wanda, one of our program directors, just to make sure everyone was comfortable. While we were sitting in their bedroom (which doubles as a family room with the television and air conditioner [!!!]), Sarika-ji was holding the baby up against her chest. There was a lull in the conversation when suddenly there was a huge fart (I couldn’t think of a more elegant way to say that.), and what Amy described as “curry sauce” (disgustingly accurate), shot out of the tiny baby and all over his mother. And then it happened again. All of us were cracking up, and he looked at us innocently, with a hint of confusion. Raja-ji (our host father) swept the baby into the bathroom while Sarika-ji went to clean herself up. Sometimes I think that I want to have kids, and it is times like these that make me nearly ready to take up celibacy. Well, celibate practitioners are supposed to be better at yoga anyway, and I prefer yoga to baby poop any day.

Yes, I just ended with a poop story. Sue me.

Love,

Rose

10-09-2013

10-09-2013

I made it through my first full week in Varanasi, going to classes and familiarizing myself with the area. Classes so far have been difficult for me, but unfortunately not in an intellectually challenging way. I have found out that the Indian style of teaching is one of pure lecture, which is not something I am used to at all, especially coming from Bard. The classes are also an hour and forty-five minutes, which is far too long to focus on one thing. I have also begun to have a problem that has never affected me before: falling asleep when I am bored. I suppose it’s honest, at least, but it’s a little embarrassing to be nodding off in a class where I constitute 25% of the attendees.

Today I have three classes and have already asked a fair number of questions in my first one, though the only discussion it started was one between the teacher and me. Some of my fellow students thanked me for speaking up after class, but I wish that the conversation could have been more inclusive and longer as well. Unfortunately, I think a class-wide discussion is something that needs to be facilitated by the professor. I’m going to continue my efforts this afternoon, but I might have to talk to the professors and/or the program director.

I am starting to become accustomed to life here in Varanasi. Even walking the five minutes from my house to the program house where we take classes is a different adventure every morning. Today I almost slipped on a big cow pie on my way to class! Luckily I had bought some exceptionally ugly flip-flops to trade out for my beloved Birkenstocks, at least for the rainy season.

I am still a little sick, and want to get rid of this cold as soon as possible. Our group of students is planning to possibly go to Agra this weekend to visit the Taj Mahal! That would be something. But it would be more enjoyable if I were entirely healthy. Fingers crossed.

Love,

Rose

P.S. I am planning to post some pictures later today, so stay tuned!

03-09-2013

03-09-2013

Happy Tuesday! Today was my second day of classes. I have “City of Confluence,” “Women, Development, and Environment,” and “Living Religious Traditions” on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Yoga will start next week and will be from 6:30am to 8am, so I will be even busier then. It seems that Monday, Wednesday, and Friday will be my light days. I’m excited to be able to explore a bit more, although traveling alone as a woman is not always safe, especially at night. However, learning Hindi will absolutely help me get around.

There are nine students (including me) in the program, and there are several different electives, so our largest class size is still quite cozy. I think I don’t tend to participate much in large classes because I don’t know everyone and I’m afraid they will judge me. So far in this context, though, this has not been the case. I have always tried to push myself to contribute more instead of taking the role of the observer, and perhaps this is the place to really perfect that.

 It’s only about 1:20 in the afternoon as I write this, but I am already exhausted! It might be due to some cough syrup I took earlier today. Whatever the case, I am definitely planning on taking a nap as soon as I get home. I have already finished all the work for this week because I am neurotic, so I actually have nothing to do when I finish class. We are starting out slowly, but I suspect that this program will not assign the amount of work I am used to having at Bard (which is a ridiculous amount).

Love,

Rose

30-08-2013

30-08-2013

Today was an incredibly exhausting day. We woke up early to leave for the Delhi airport, and caught our flight to Varanasi at around 11:00. The flight was incredibly bumpy, and it had the most violent landing that I have ever experienced. Oh, and did I mention that it is still monsoon season? Well it is, as today demonstrated. It was raining on and off from when we woke up until after dinner, though it was still incredibly humid and hot. After we landed, we packed our things into two separate cars and drove off. The ride was estimated at an hour and a half, though the distance itself was not great. As we got further away from the airport, the paved roads turned into smooth dirt roads, which gave way to a series of potholes placed randomly all over the path. (On top of that, Indian traffic is possibly the most frightening thing I have ever encountered. There don’t seem to be any rules, and though stop signs and dividing lines exist, they are viewed as mere suggestions. Indian drivers use their horns so frequently [and often for seconds on end] that it becomes almost comical.  They honk when there are pedestrians, they honk when someone is too close or they are trying to swerve in, and they honk back and forth at one another, though no one seems to take it personally.) Though the car ride was rather nauseating, looking at the scenery passing by was a lot of fun. We saw many many people and lots of animals (especially cows) as well. The ample foliage thinned and eventually disappeared as we reached the heart of Varanasi.

We had some rickshaw drivers take our baggage to each respective house, and we all went into the Program Center House. It is down an alleyway next to the cinema and past several cows, if you are wondering how to get there. The center was aggressively air conditioned, which was a welcome relief from the sweltering heat and relentless humidity of the outdoors. We left most of our things while we went on “tours” of Varanasi, led by two members of the Alliance (for Global Education, not the Alliance that the browncoats opposed, keep in mind). Unfortunately, minutes into our walk, it began to pour again. We had all been given umbrellas and we unfurled them, but they were no match for an Indian monsoon. Soon, the streets began to flood, and we were forced to wade through ankle-deep water. All I could think about was the number of cow patties I had seen on the roads earlier, and how they were now part of the soup I was mixing with my feet.

Eventually we made it back, but by that time the majority of us were soaked, and the air conditioning was not as welcome as it had been earlier. We sat down and I put my belongings away eagerly, hoping we would finally get to go to our host family’s house. I was sorely disappointed when we had to endure yet another lecture on health and how to contact doctors and such. As I mentioned, I felt quite sick the other day, and this illness had not quite left me. Sitting in a frigid room with dripping clothing, as you can imagine, didn’t quite do the trick either.

When we finally were given leave to go, I felt sicker and also much less excited to meet my host family than I had been previously, just because of the general exhaustion. We walked the distance to their house (it was still soupy but not actually raining anymore), and went in. We met our new Indian family, Raja the father, Sarika the mother, Riti the daughter, and the new baby son and grandmother whose names have slipped my mind. Amy and I, it turns out, have separate rooms, each with our own private bathroom! Hers has a western toilet, and mine has an Indian toilet. I have accepted the challenge, and will prove to myself that I can overcome my bathroom anxiety here.

Dinner was delicious and handmade, and we talked to Raja and Satika while we ate. Raja speaks fairly good English, and Satika speaks spottily, but is obviously eager to learn. I was embarrassed that I didn’t know anything in Hindi to support my end of the conversation. I have washed all my dirty clothing (most of it by hand), and hung a lot of it in strange places in the bathroom and around my room. I hope it all dries by tomorrow, because I literally have no clothes left. I am only sleeping in underwear because I have nothing else (the heat also contributed to this decision). The rooms are simple and furnished with a desk, bed, and lockable cabinet, which is great. I have put my valuables and clothing in there, and tried to put some other objects out on the shelves to make the room look friendlier. As of now, my efforts have been in vain, but I assume as I acquire more tchotchkes (whoa, I never knew that’s how that word was spelled. Thanks, Microsoft!), the room will fill up. The things on my shelf are the two books I brought (Sherlock Holmes and The Fifth Head of Cerberus), three bottles of potable water, my glasses, and my two journals (one for me to write in, and one that Lucy gave me full of amazing bestie memories. I haven’t needed to look at it yet from homesickness, but it is right there just in case).

I am now lying in bed typing this up, as I feel I should have a bit more on my blog. We will get our cell phones with SIM cards and Internet sticks on Monday, though, so then I’ll be able to update more often. Tomorrow we will all meet our “student buddies” (BHU students who have volunteered to become our Indian connections and show us around a bit), and we’ll walk to Lanka and familiarize ourselves with the place. We will also meet them on Sunday for chai, I think. Later on, we are allowed to call them and try to make a more personal connection to them and the place itself. I am excited to meet my buddy and also to invite her to go for chai and movies and music things!

There is so much more I want to say, but I am sick and tired and nearly falling asleep at my computer. Love you all.

Rose

29-08-2013

 29-08-2013

Dear, dear readers:

Hello from India! Sorry I haven’t updated in a while. I got to New Delhi safely after 34 ½ hours of traveling. Whoop whoop! We have had an orientation here, and are flying to Varanasi tomorrow to meet our host families and familiarize ourselves with the city a little bit. The last couple of days have consisted of a few outings in the morning and going over rules and what to expect when we actually start the program. We’ve looked at a preliminary copy of our schedules for the semester, and it looks like I will be quite busy! I am taking beginning Hindi, “City of Confluence” about Varanasi and its history, yoga and yoga theory, a class on gender, and a class on religious theology.

I am living with a host family that consists of a mother and father, an eight-year-old girl, a newborn baby, and a grandmother. I am rooming with another girl in my program, Amy. She seems really sweet and excited, and I’m looking forward to getting to know her better. She also recently completed her yoga certification, so I’m sure she can help me with my yoga technique!

Unfortunately, I seem to have come down with something. I have a painfully sore throat and have already lost my lunch. One of the other girls, Elise, had some side effects from the malaria medicine she was taking that were similar to mine. I’m hoping they will go away soon. As in right now. (Though I am watching The Matrix, and Keanu Reeves always helps everything.)

Other than that, though, things are going swimmingly. It’s quite hot and humid, and I’m sweating buckets, even minutes after I get out of a cold bucket shower. The other day, we went and bought some lovely Indian clothes, and though the loose pants do help to keep me cool, the kurta, or top dress-like piece, is made of thick cotton and is rather warm. Women also wear dupattas, long, wide scarves that can be wrapped around one’s head to keep off the sun. I bought two outfits (which came to about $50 for six items), and am planning on getting some more clothes tailor-made in Varanasi.

I am now at an exciting part of The Matrix, so I must sign off. Also maybe to toss my cookies just one more time.

Love always,

Rose

Hello, lovely readers!

Today starts the first day of my overseas adventures. First, I suppose I'd better explain the name of this blog. At first, I felt stuck in terms of writing, as I felt that I needed to have a witty and alliterative title for my blog. I have finally settled upon this title, though. For as long as I can remember, my father and I have driven down to Los Angeles to visit our extended family (though only recently have I started to pitch in in terms of driving time). We have a tradition of stopping at Andersen's Pea Soup, a large restaurant with a windmill-like apparatus stuck on the outside, located in the heat of Santa Nella, California. We usually order something called the "Travelers' Special," which, along with endless vegetarian pea soup, includes bread and a drink of your choice.

As this has long been an important landmark for me, I've decided to name my blog after this delicious menu choice. While it refers to a specific item, I also hope that this phrase can be broadened to the larger scope of my adventures this semester. I want to see everything with new eyes and partake in as much as I possibly can. Everything can be a travelers' special! And this traveler is ready for all the excitement (pea soup-related or not) that awaits her.