Wednesday, December 8, 2010

It's Not Really India 'Til You Take Part in the Corruption

Well, I'm back in America.  My last few days in India were, quite frankly, insane.

Wednesday, I turned my 28 page project and 25 minute CD into ACM in a hard copy.  Thursday, I was supposed to e-mail a copy to Chicago.  That didn't happen because Thursday, the internet workers of India went on strike.  Good timing.   

Thursday, Sarah Pinkham came over to my house for dinner and a sleepover.  She now understands exactly how much I am expected to eat.  

Friday, the internet workers were still on strike.  

Saturday... well.  Saturday was a trip.  Literally.  I had to take a taxi four hours from Pune to Mumbai.  On the way there, there were monkeys on the highway, so traffic was delayed a bit.  When we got to Mumbai, the taxi dropped me off at the airport ACM directed them.  That would have been a lot more helpful if ACM had directed them to the one I needed to be at.  I had to check in at five.  At 4:45, I got dropped at the airport 20 minutes across Mumbai.  So how did I get there?  It involved a $20 police bribe.  It's just not India until you actively participate in the corruption.  Don't worry, though.  The rickshaw walla was nice enough to stop at the ATM so I could get money.

I flew from Mumbai to Delhi and Delhi to Chicago.  My first flight was delayed an hour which made me have to sprint through the Delhi airport.  Let's just say that that definitely is NOT when you want to hear the words "this is her. security check!" coming from an security agent.  I am apparently a "her" that requires special security on airlines.  I got pulled aside by agents and questioned about whether or not I was bringing anything detrimental to the flight onto the plane.  

Once I was on the plane in Delhi, I sat by the guy who films Amazing Race.  He drank a lot and talked more. It was a long 16 hour flight.  We flew over the north pole and Siberia.  I slept for about ten hours of the flight. And then I was back in America, Chicago with 5 inches of fluffy white snow.  

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Today, I had an oral Marathi exam. I can effectively tell people that I met a monkey in a tree in Kerala, I saw the sunset and sunrise in Kanyakumari, I rode an elephant, and I watched “Twilight” twice in Periyar. I can also talk about food and say that I have a friend whose mom makes me Pakistani food at home.

Today, I went to the market to get some last minute stuff for people... one week left, and all of a sudden, everyone wants something specific from India. b

So, I realized today that I haven't been adding in quotes since I got back from the south of India. I should remedy that.

When catapults are outlawed, only outlaws will have catapults.
A casual stroll through the lunatic asylum shows that faith does not prove anything. –Nietzsche
The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary; men alone are quite capable of every wickedness.
If you are going to walk on thin ice, you might as well dance.
The real fight is not between right and wrong, the real fight is between your right and my right. ~Rahul Easwar
There is not enough darkness in all the world to put out the light of even one small candle. –Robert Alden
I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones - Albert Einstein
It is a man's own mind, not his enemy or foe, that lures him to evil ways. -Buddha

Monday, November 29, 2010

Neighbor Emily and Me

Molly from Lawrence

Travel Group

Secretary Shruti

Sari Picture
Friday
was not all that great, really.

I had to go to lessons at 8:15 this morning. I told my host family yesterday morning, but they forgot, so I didn't have breakfast this morning. I rushed through a cup of tea and two pieces of buttered bread and lots of apologies that put me leaving at 8:07 instead of 8:00. It was early, so there were few rickshaw wallas out, and I couldn't be choosy. I ended up paying almost double the normal cost to get from my house to lessons. On the way there, a man got hit in the street. He was unconscious and being carried by five men to the sidewalk. Where he had been hit, there was a big pool of blood. I'm not sure he was alive.
I got to lessons two minutes late... the tabla player got there ten minutes late.

After classes today, Sucheta (director of ACM) called me into her office. Apparently, my guru is more frustrating than even I realized. I've been paying her for my lessons. ACM has also been paying her for my lessons. On the positive side, I got the $10 ACM was planning to give her for the tabla player.


Yesterday was better.
Yesterday, Sarah and I went sari shopping the fun way. After the failure with Anju, we took it upon ourselves to find what we wanted. So, we went into the sketchy, lower class part of India and looked for the working-class saris that the maids wear. It was actually a pretty cool experience.
For starters, the lower castes do not get very thorough education. India has a program that provides meals for low caste children at school as motivation to come to school. However, even then, the low castes don't really learn English. So, Sarah and I had a lot of basic conversations in Marathi. It was really good to know that after three months and six hours a week of a language, we can effectively have some sort of conversation in it.
For the most part, we just needed basic stuff. “I want a white sari.” “I am from America.” “I don't like that one.” “How much does it cost?” “We're studying Marathi...” etc. But it was nice all the same.
And, now, I have two more saris and Yemna's Christmas present. “Two?” you ask? Yes, two. I set a budget of $20 to by my white toga-sari and Yemna's present. I was a little worried that that wouldn't be enough money after the sari fiasco with Anju. We all had said we wanted sarees on the cheap end of the scale... she took us to a place where no one got a sari for under $10... most people paid closer to $40. So, I was a little bit worried about getting two sarees for $20. I should have known better than to worry. I ended up spending only $16 for the two sarees I needed... and then, I found a purple sari that I kind of fell in love with. Coincidentally, it was less than $4. And it's PRETTY!
Right now, both sarees are at the tailor's getting hemmed, getting a fall, and having a blouse made. By Monday, they will be done. Hopefully, this time, they'll fit me.

The way saris work is that you basically just buy 6 to nine yards of fabric. You take that fabric to the tailor, and he cuts off a yard or two to make a blouse for you. He hems the ends of the fabric, and then he puts a fall at the bottom. A fall is basically just a cotton strip of fabric that acts as reinforcement, so if you step on the bottom, it won't rip. Blouses aren't what we think of as blouses. First of all, they're short. They usually go to about the bottom of the rib cage, maybe not even that far. They do button up the front, but the fabric of the sari covers the front of the blouse, so that doesn't matter. They usually have short sleeves, but sometimes they come sleeveless. Since you can't really have different cuts or styles in saris, fashion trends come and go in the form of the cut of the back of the sari. For example, last year, it was trendy to have the back cut in a V-neck. This year, scoop necks are what's popular. Tailors will make all sorts of asymmetrical cuts for the back of the blouse.

The picture I posted last week was of a lady selling crabs on Paud Road near where I live. When I say “near,” I mean “four miles away, but on the walk home.” There's kind of an unsanctioned fish market where a bunch of people just line the streets selling all kinds of seafood. Live fish, flopping on the concrete. Dead fish, laid out in rows. Big fish. Small fish. Eels. Shrimp. Live crabs, trying frantically to get out. That lady was sitting with a half dozen crabs in her lap. I tried to ask permission to take the picture, but she didn't speak enough English to understand what I wanted.

However, an Indian man came up to me and, noticing my wonder at the sight, explained to me that “that is a crab. It comes from the ocean...” Yes... I know what it is. I'm just not used to seeing it crawling around someone's lap.
Saturday:

Well, I spent all day practicing. That was probably a bad choice, considering the way my arm cramped during my recital and made me almost drop my bow mid-song. However, I still performed well, and everyone enjoyed my playing.

Backstage dramas of the night: A lizard decided to hide in my violin case. It ran across the stage, through the people waiting behind the curtain, and headed directly for my violin case. Then it disappeared. I was kind of worried it would crawl out of my violin during my performance.
My recording program quit working as the show was starting, and I needed to record my music for my independent study project. After three restarts, muting the speakers, and letting my computer go into sleep mode, the program began recording again. Toshi always comes through... eventually.

As of now, I have thirty minutes of music recorded. Tomorrow, I'll burn it onto 4 CD's (one for the ACM India records, one for ACM Chicago Office, one for my evil-guru-lady to grade, and one for my host family) and then I'll be done with that part of my project. I just need to type up a conclusion and finish my works cited, and I'll be done with my 25 page project and 30 minute CD.
Sunday:

Emily and her host mom and I went to Kaka Raju's apartment for breakfast. He called yesterday to invite us to Sunday breakfast, so this morning he picked us up and we went. He got there by Indian time – he said he'd pick us up at 9:30am... but a little past 10am, he got to Ved Vihar. We brought his kids some presents and Emily's host mom made Kaka Raju's wife a necklace.
It was a little bit sad eating there with them. They made a rice dish, Pohe. They brought out their good dishes for us, but they ate on the normal stainless steel plates and bowls. We got huge servings, and they ate from tiny little bowls. And when I say huge, I mean it. I didn't think I was going to be able to finish mine. Emily's host mom barely finished hers after taking multiple breaks from it. Emily couldn't make it through her whole bowl, so I ended up eating mine and about a third of hers because I didn't want to insult them by wasting their food.
Kaka Raju and his wife got us each presents. Costume jewelry bracelets and rings. We taught his kids how to use blow-pens to make art. It was a really nice morning.

However, since Kaka Raju didn't pick us up til ten, it was probably eleven by the time we ate breakfast. I got home a little after noon, and around one, my host family had lunch. I was still full from the pohe and not eating very much, and then my Aai made the comment of “when you do not take second helpings, I think you do not like my food...” So I had seconds... and thirds. I'm dreading dinner, because I really just don't know where anything else is going to fit.
I brought a pair of white pants to India. However, everything gets dirty really quickly here because of all the dirt, rain, and pollution. So, I've only worn these pants for special occasions. They've made it these entire nearly four months without any stains or dirt splotches. Today, I wore them to Kaka Raju's. I made it through breakfast and blow pens and walking around India. Then, once I was back at Ved Vihar studying, my pen leaked all over them. Failure.




Nearly four months in India:

1 month without shaving my armpits.
1 bra completely ruined.
2 pairs of shoes with the soles worn through.
2 pairs of sunglasses... gone.
2.5 months without shaving my legs.
4 empty rolls of deodorant.
6 pairs of contacts used up... twice what I use in America in that span of time... so much pollution.
24 people to buy presents for.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Dear American Students,
You are dumb, unmotivated, and I have a weak grasp of the English Language.
Love,
Contemporary India Professor
So sari shopping today was a bust. I was seriously disappointed. Our resource guide took five of us as a group to get saris. However, the other four people were looking for traditional Maharashtran saris to wear on Saturday for our farewell dinner, and I want saris that focus less on the Maharashtra and more on the pretty. Not that the traditional ones aren't pretty... they're just monochromatic. A blue sari is blue with different tones of blue and another color blue and then gold trim. And that's nice. But not what I want.
Also, since the other four girls need one for Saturday and it has to get tailored and all before then, they were made priorities in the shopping scale. So, I basically tagged along for two hours and wasted time. But things were really pretty, and it did give me a better idea of what I don't want.

Tomorrow is the last day of my evil political science class of doom that everyone's gonna fail. We have to turn in a final paper. The prompt is really ambiguous and only tells us that we should reflect on our time in India and write four pages. When we asked the teacher, he told us that it would be nice if we wrote about politics in it, even though he didn't mention it in the assignment. But basically, it was a really vague assignment that was supposed to possibly talk about politics or India... so I wrote about Rome.
No, really. I did.
However, I connected it to India and politics by comparing ancient Roman boundaries and borders to the ones in India today.
This just in: We got our Contemporary India tests from last week.  The results?  Shockingly enough, we all failed.  Again.  However, each of us failed a little bit less than last time.  

Being a Classicist here is actually kind of entertaining sometimes. With the intertwining history along with the British influence here, a lot of academic people have a little bit of knowledge about Classical stuff. They know a few Latin terms and whatnot. What they don't know, they make up. And, since there's the stereotype that all Americans are unaware idiots, they assume we don't know anything about anything. There was one day that Raj (our Lit teacher) was talking about a book we were reading. So Raj started talking about the significance of that mention... the main character in the book was just an average Indian person reflection on life and trying to make his way just like any other man. The character mentions Marcus Aurelius at one point. Raj got to discussing that part, and told us it was symbolic because Marcus Aurelius was just another average plebian citizen who wasn't anything special, and yet his Meditations have made it hundreds of years through history. I made the comment that Marcus Aurelius was actually a really important Roman emperor who wrote the Meditations in the midst of a war. Response? “No, no... that is not right. He was a common man.” I'll probably lose points for that on my paper.