Emotional Roller-coaster
Morning thoughts:
I am not happy this morning. I’m really really trying to be - I’m trying to remind myself that I’m in India having a once in a lifetime experience, and something little like living arrangements shouldn’t upset me so much. I think it’s the fatigue showing through. Everything annoys me: the pidgeons that woke us up at 7am, the lack of refrigerator and therefore lack of breakfast, the lack of coffee, the fact that NONE of the outlets will keep a connection and so I can’t charge any of my electronics OR curl my hair, the sad attempt at water pressure and minimal heat in the shower, AND the fact that I can’t talk to my parents or best friend OR update the blog like I promised I would. Yeah, I’m a little unhappy this morning.
The one ray of sunshine - the sweet little makeshift vase (i.e. water pitcher) of daisies sitting on our table. They’re happy and bright and maybe if I stare at them long enough and remember how good yesterday was, the rest of the ickiness will fade. I really don’t wanna be in a bad mood. We’re going to the village today and I want to enjoy that. I’m sure though, that once we get there, all of this won’t matter. New day, new attitude, right? Let’s hope…I’ll let you know.
Afternoon thoughts:
So…today was awesome.
After we got dressed this morning, we stopped by the boys’ for breakfast (since we’d left our cold items there), then headed over to get on the bus. IT was about an hour drive to the Ashram (where we picked up the lady that started it) then an additional hour drive to the village.
When we arrived, there were two lines of little girls waiting outside of the school to greet us. As we walked past them, they showered us with marigold petals (remember the lei from the first day? Marigolds are a sign of welcome). Upon reaching the gate of the school, a small group of boys began playing the drums to welcome us in. They were all so happy and energetic, and the teachers were all smiles.
We were ushered into a small conference room and asked to sit down. We then went through some introductions (all the teachers, ourselves, a few others) before getting a quick tour of the school. All of the kids attend class in a collection of four small rooms, where they are split up according to their “standard” (the equivalent of US “grades”). All of the kids were very well behaved, and each classroom had prepared a song or poem for us - it was soooo sweet.
After our school tour, we were able to go on a village tour. According to Dr. Anand, this sleepy little village is home to about 72,000 (guys…that’s the size of FAYETTEVILLE! And this is a VILLAGE…geez). We didn’t see the entire thing, just the portion that was closest to the school (and housed a little over a thousand residents).
I simply can’t describe the village in words, so here, have a few pictures…jk, stupid internet. There will be pictures later.
As intense as the setting was, the people were all incredibly warm. They didn’t mind one bit that a bunch of foreigners (the first ones to visit their village…ever) were wandering around taking pictures of their houses and chickens. I mean, imagine trying do walk into Orange Mound and snap a few photos of people or houses or pets…you’d get shot. These people welcomed us into their homes warmly, let us look around, take pictures, talk to their children, hold their baby livestock - it was incredible.
I was in shock for a majority of the tour - it was just so much to take in. We returned to the school after the tour and watched the kids participate in races and games - we even got to play a round of musical chairs (once for the boys, once for the girls). They seemed to love watching US play their games. Then, they presented each of us with flowers (I’m liking this tradition), performed several dances and songs for us, let us hand out the awards to the winners of the races, and thanked us (multiple times) for visiting their village and experiencing their culture. That felt backwards to me - we should have been thanking THEM for letting us be a part of their lives. The experience was incredible.
Before leaving, we spent several minutes taking a million photos with the kids (they loved having their picture taken), letting them take pics of us (which they liked MORE than having their picture taken, even if it was with our cameras and they couldn’t keep the pics), and shaking hundreds of teeny hands. They all ask the same question “What is your name?” - I loved feeling like my name was special.
Right as we left, there was one little girl standing off to the side all by herself, just watching us. I couldn’t decide if she was scared or just overwhelmed. I pulled my flower out of my bag and handed it to her. The look on her face was priceless and heart-melting. It was confusion and shock at first, kind of a “me? That’s for me?” look, but then it transformed in to the biggest, happiest, most ecstatic smile I’ve ever seen. She clutched that tiny flower to her chest, ran over to who I assume was her brother, and waved it back and forth, jumping up and down the whole time. I wish I could have caught that moment on tape, not that I’ll ever forget it, but so that other people can see how incredibly happy something so small can make someone. It made my whole day.
After the village, we drove back to the apartments for a brief break before heading out to explore the city and grab dinner. We took the bus to MG Road (the shopping district), and wandered through one of the shops there called Cauvery. It’s a government run store - meaning we didn’t have to haggle (YAY!) and they had good prices. Pree, Mary, and I bought sarees and most of the others got souvenirs and gifts to take back home. The issue we then faced was: where on EARTH do we get these fitted? So began the epic tailor-hunt.
The Cauvery people had told the tailor was up the street…not a good description for India. Up the street could mean ANYWHERE. So, hoping we were smart enough to find this tailor (bad plan, I’m aware), we just started walking. A few minutes passed and we realized we had no hope of finding this place alone, so we stopped in one of the stores that looked like they might know. The guy there told us to go to the utility building “that way.” Well, at least we had a direction. We walked “that way” hoping that maybe we would just somehow know what a utility building was supposed to look like. We didn’t. We stopped in ANOTHER store and asked for a tailor and/or the utility building. The guy had no idea where a tailor was, but “utility building” he understood. “Oh, utility building, yes yes, tailor is there. About one and a half minute walk there. Big, taaaaall, building. That way.” Good…I think…we were at least still headed “that way” and now we knew to look for a “taaaall” building. Turns out, ALL of the buildings are tall. Also, “one and a half minutes” is really really vaugue in Indian time…
Just as we were wondering if we’d ever find this place, the buildings parted and this skyscraper appeared. Aha! “Taaaall” building! So, now at least we had a building, just need the tailor. We walked in and, after asking about three more people, a kind lady took pity on us and walked us to the tailor. We would have NEVER found that place on our own like we thought.
The tailoring experience was…interesting. He took our sarees, then took our measurements (very quickly, might I add), wrote a few figures down on a piece of paper, and told us to come back “day after tomorrow.” What he’ll do is take some of the fabric from the saree, cut it to our measurements, line it, and sew it all up to make a blouse. Then, the saree just wraps around. Sounds simple enough, right? Maybe I’ll have magical saree wrapping talent…
After that adventure (which I’m pretty proud of - we just got sarees tailored in INDIA), we went to find the others for dinner. We ended up at a very Dickson Street-esque bar and stayed for a while - it felt so much like home. I think a lot of us have been missing home, so that touch was nice. The ride home was an entirely new adventure.
We had been told to take auto-rickshaws back to the apartments. We had also been told not to wait too late to get them because no one would be willing to take us. Well, we apparently waited too late. The first six or so people we talked to told us no. Then, a man appears out of nowhere and offers to drive us…for 800 rupees. Heck no! That ride is supposed to cost like 60 to 90 rupees…you’ve GOT to be kidding us! Well, no one else would take us, and that guy kept talking, so once Seth got him down to 350, we agreed. Thing is, there were four of us. The auto rickshaws fit two, maybe three. The next twenty minutes was both terrifying and hilarious.
Seth, Kevin, and I squeezed into the back of the rickshaw and had Amanda lay across our laps. We sped through traffic, dodging busses and cars and motorcycles, praying that we wouldn’t crash or flip or fall out. Kevin got the whole experience on video…I’ll see what I can do to add that later. We made it, finally, all in one piece. We paid the guy and thanked him, then headed upstairs to tell everyone of our adventure. All in all, it was a good night. I feel like I’ve had a well rounded India experience now. Almost dying via auto rickshaw will do that…
Evening thoughts:
I’m quite annoyed again. Honey, Kevin and I went to pick up our laundry - which we ended up paying way more than expected for - and not only were things crazy mixed up, they were WET! What are we supposed to do with wet clothes?!? Ugh…we’ll survive. This country is an emotional roller coaster. It’s probably a good thing I’m only here for three weeks. I might lose my mind otherwise. I thought I understood the concept of culture shock…no. THIS is culture shock. THIS is what ethnocentrism feels like. Nothing before has come close - that was just me adjusting. This is screwing with my emotional stability…I’m going to bed.
I am not happy this morning. I’m really really trying to be - I’m trying to remind myself that I’m in India having a once in a lifetime experience, and something little like living arrangements shouldn’t upset me so much. I think it’s the fatigue showing through. Everything annoys me: the pidgeons that woke us up at 7am, the lack of refrigerator and therefore lack of breakfast, the lack of coffee, the fact that NONE of the outlets will keep a connection and so I can’t charge any of my electronics OR curl my hair, the sad attempt at water pressure and minimal heat in the shower, AND the fact that I can’t talk to my parents or best friend OR update the blog like I promised I would. Yeah, I’m a little unhappy this morning.
The one ray of sunshine - the sweet little makeshift vase (i.e. water pitcher) of daisies sitting on our table. They’re happy and bright and maybe if I stare at them long enough and remember how good yesterday was, the rest of the ickiness will fade. I really don’t wanna be in a bad mood. We’re going to the village today and I want to enjoy that. I’m sure though, that once we get there, all of this won’t matter. New day, new attitude, right? Let’s hope…I’ll let you know.
Afternoon thoughts:
So…today was awesome.
After we got dressed this morning, we stopped by the boys’ for breakfast (since we’d left our cold items there), then headed over to get on the bus. IT was about an hour drive to the Ashram (where we picked up the lady that started it) then an additional hour drive to the village.
When we arrived, there were two lines of little girls waiting outside of the school to greet us. As we walked past them, they showered us with marigold petals (remember the lei from the first day? Marigolds are a sign of welcome). Upon reaching the gate of the school, a small group of boys began playing the drums to welcome us in. They were all so happy and energetic, and the teachers were all smiles.
We were ushered into a small conference room and asked to sit down. We then went through some introductions (all the teachers, ourselves, a few others) before getting a quick tour of the school. All of the kids attend class in a collection of four small rooms, where they are split up according to their “standard” (the equivalent of US “grades”). All of the kids were very well behaved, and each classroom had prepared a song or poem for us - it was soooo sweet.
After our school tour, we were able to go on a village tour. According to Dr. Anand, this sleepy little village is home to about 72,000 (guys…that’s the size of FAYETTEVILLE! And this is a VILLAGE…geez). We didn’t see the entire thing, just the portion that was closest to the school (and housed a little over a thousand residents).
I simply can’t describe the village in words, so here, have a few pictures…jk, stupid internet. There will be pictures later.
As intense as the setting was, the people were all incredibly warm. They didn’t mind one bit that a bunch of foreigners (the first ones to visit their village…ever) were wandering around taking pictures of their houses and chickens. I mean, imagine trying do walk into Orange Mound and snap a few photos of people or houses or pets…you’d get shot. These people welcomed us into their homes warmly, let us look around, take pictures, talk to their children, hold their baby livestock - it was incredible.
I was in shock for a majority of the tour - it was just so much to take in. We returned to the school after the tour and watched the kids participate in races and games - we even got to play a round of musical chairs (once for the boys, once for the girls). They seemed to love watching US play their games. Then, they presented each of us with flowers (I’m liking this tradition), performed several dances and songs for us, let us hand out the awards to the winners of the races, and thanked us (multiple times) for visiting their village and experiencing their culture. That felt backwards to me - we should have been thanking THEM for letting us be a part of their lives. The experience was incredible.
Before leaving, we spent several minutes taking a million photos with the kids (they loved having their picture taken), letting them take pics of us (which they liked MORE than having their picture taken, even if it was with our cameras and they couldn’t keep the pics), and shaking hundreds of teeny hands. They all ask the same question “What is your name?” - I loved feeling like my name was special.
Right as we left, there was one little girl standing off to the side all by herself, just watching us. I couldn’t decide if she was scared or just overwhelmed. I pulled my flower out of my bag and handed it to her. The look on her face was priceless and heart-melting. It was confusion and shock at first, kind of a “me? That’s for me?” look, but then it transformed in to the biggest, happiest, most ecstatic smile I’ve ever seen. She clutched that tiny flower to her chest, ran over to who I assume was her brother, and waved it back and forth, jumping up and down the whole time. I wish I could have caught that moment on tape, not that I’ll ever forget it, but so that other people can see how incredibly happy something so small can make someone. It made my whole day.
After the village, we drove back to the apartments for a brief break before heading out to explore the city and grab dinner. We took the bus to MG Road (the shopping district), and wandered through one of the shops there called Cauvery. It’s a government run store - meaning we didn’t have to haggle (YAY!) and they had good prices. Pree, Mary, and I bought sarees and most of the others got souvenirs and gifts to take back home. The issue we then faced was: where on EARTH do we get these fitted? So began the epic tailor-hunt.
The Cauvery people had told the tailor was up the street…not a good description for India. Up the street could mean ANYWHERE. So, hoping we were smart enough to find this tailor (bad plan, I’m aware), we just started walking. A few minutes passed and we realized we had no hope of finding this place alone, so we stopped in one of the stores that looked like they might know. The guy there told us to go to the utility building “that way.” Well, at least we had a direction. We walked “that way” hoping that maybe we would just somehow know what a utility building was supposed to look like. We didn’t. We stopped in ANOTHER store and asked for a tailor and/or the utility building. The guy had no idea where a tailor was, but “utility building” he understood. “Oh, utility building, yes yes, tailor is there. About one and a half minute walk there. Big, taaaaall, building. That way.” Good…I think…we were at least still headed “that way” and now we knew to look for a “taaaall” building. Turns out, ALL of the buildings are tall. Also, “one and a half minutes” is really really vaugue in Indian time…
Just as we were wondering if we’d ever find this place, the buildings parted and this skyscraper appeared. Aha! “Taaaall” building! So, now at least we had a building, just need the tailor. We walked in and, after asking about three more people, a kind lady took pity on us and walked us to the tailor. We would have NEVER found that place on our own like we thought.
The tailoring experience was…interesting. He took our sarees, then took our measurements (very quickly, might I add), wrote a few figures down on a piece of paper, and told us to come back “day after tomorrow.” What he’ll do is take some of the fabric from the saree, cut it to our measurements, line it, and sew it all up to make a blouse. Then, the saree just wraps around. Sounds simple enough, right? Maybe I’ll have magical saree wrapping talent…
After that adventure (which I’m pretty proud of - we just got sarees tailored in INDIA), we went to find the others for dinner. We ended up at a very Dickson Street-esque bar and stayed for a while - it felt so much like home. I think a lot of us have been missing home, so that touch was nice. The ride home was an entirely new adventure.
We had been told to take auto-rickshaws back to the apartments. We had also been told not to wait too late to get them because no one would be willing to take us. Well, we apparently waited too late. The first six or so people we talked to told us no. Then, a man appears out of nowhere and offers to drive us…for 800 rupees. Heck no! That ride is supposed to cost like 60 to 90 rupees…you’ve GOT to be kidding us! Well, no one else would take us, and that guy kept talking, so once Seth got him down to 350, we agreed. Thing is, there were four of us. The auto rickshaws fit two, maybe three. The next twenty minutes was both terrifying and hilarious.
Seth, Kevin, and I squeezed into the back of the rickshaw and had Amanda lay across our laps. We sped through traffic, dodging busses and cars and motorcycles, praying that we wouldn’t crash or flip or fall out. Kevin got the whole experience on video…I’ll see what I can do to add that later. We made it, finally, all in one piece. We paid the guy and thanked him, then headed upstairs to tell everyone of our adventure. All in all, it was a good night. I feel like I’ve had a well rounded India experience now. Almost dying via auto rickshaw will do that…
Evening thoughts:
I’m quite annoyed again. Honey, Kevin and I went to pick up our laundry - which we ended up paying way more than expected for - and not only were things crazy mixed up, they were WET! What are we supposed to do with wet clothes?!? Ugh…we’ll survive. This country is an emotional roller coaster. It’s probably a good thing I’m only here for three weeks. I might lose my mind otherwise. I thought I understood the concept of culture shock…no. THIS is culture shock. THIS is what ethnocentrism feels like. Nothing before has come close - that was just me adjusting. This is screwing with my emotional stability…I’m going to bed.
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