Saturday, July 24, 2010

Made My Day

I was in the kitchen watching Deep cook dinner and playing with Piyu, who was swinging her legs over the counter, contentedly munching on masala chips.

As usual, Piyu was yabbering away in Hindi and also as usual, I was understanding basically none of it. (although, she and I have made incredible progress on the communication front)

I looked at her and, in english, lamented that I wished I could understand what she was saying and that I was sorry.

She brightly cocked her head up at me and said (in english), "it's ok!"

Saturday, July 17, 2010

For Sister Spencer (and everyone else)

1. What was the best thing you ate on your trip?

Oh my gosh, I don't think I can narrow it down. I think the yummiest dish is my host mom's chana something or other with fried roti (verus like.....sauteed-ish). I'm hoping she'll teach me how to make it before I leave, the particular combination of spices is awesome!

Oothapam (uttapam? it seems to vary) is my go to food though. A fried circle of rice flour mixture topped off with a spicy mix of tomatoes and onions (or other stuff) and a side of coconut chutney for dipping. Nom nom nom.

Also, there's a street food here that's basically a fried spicy dough that they salt and serve with whole roasted green chilis. You take a bite of dough and then a bite of chili and honestly, the combination is unbelieveable. The spice of the dough hits you and then sort of a sweet from roasted chili and then a minute later the heat sinks in and you need more dough....and it cycles and builds to hot intensity. Perhaps not the yummiest dish I've had, but it was a great sentimental moment to share with my coworkers.


2. What was the most wonderful experience you had?

Wow, who knows. I mean, what type of experience? Sometimes when I travel, there's a moment that sort of stands out profoundly and comes to sort of define the trip. In Uganda, going out to do house visits for the HIV/AIDS patients in the area was one of those. In Morocco, talking in french about the language of music with a lute player in Casablanca was that.

It could be said that the value of a trip for me is counted in the currency of these moments.

Here, I'm not sure yet. Upon thinking about it more, I realized most of the moments that I cherish deeply are ones where I had a great discussion or felt I was able to really connect with someone. The language barrier has left me more of an observer than a participator, which makes connect difficult.

Sharing chai and discussing life with my coworkers has been great. Getting dressed up for weddings with my host mom has been great. I think also, there's room to say that the extended experience of interacting with the other interns has been momumental for me: they don't just tolerate and accept me but actually embrace and value me and give me space to be quirky and awkward. That's sort of new for me and I've consequently gotten a lot more comfortable with myself.

I think though, one of the most distinct experiences actually may have happened yesterday. I was out in Dewatha to do some final interviews and ended up waiting for a couple hours, whereupon basically the entire village gathered to talk to me. What was amazing was I'd been to a nearby village for a workshop and I recognized some of the kids! And they recognized me! It was great. Over the course of about two hours, I was lead from house to house meeting everyone, being offered chai, and directed to the next place they wanted to show me. It was awkward because I was being waited on hand and foot, but the sheer VOLUME of the people was amazing, really there must have been about 50 all gathered around me and herding me around. So many beautiful people and personalities in one place! I'll probably post about it in more detail later :)


3. What was the most wonderful new insight or revelation you experienced?

No clue. I've learned a lot about community interaction and interdependence and that has been fodder for thought for me and shown me new ways of thinking that I like. It's funny that they refer to African villages as the prime example of working together, the whole, "it takes a village" mantra, but honestly, I think any Indian village is a stronger example of that.

4. Did you buy anything wonderful to bring home and keep the memories alive?

I haven't found THE THING yet, I actually haven't bought a lot here which sort of surprises me because I love the culture so much you'd think I'd be buying things like crazy, but then again, most of it is touristy and that sort of turns me off.

I was actually thinking this morning about what to buy. Usually I like to get one big thing to have in my house when I'm older. I'm not sure what that thing from here will be yet. I'm considering a bed spread. But, and I know this sounds crazy, I think I'm actually leaning towards a small water pot. They decorate them beautifully here and I think it represents a lot about the way of life I've experienced and come to love here and that would be nice to take back with me.

5. Would you go back if you had the chance?

ABSOLUTELY. I HOPE i can come back at some point. I'm basically dying to see Southern India; Pondicherry, Kerela sounds so different and fascinating, and everyone goes to Tamil Nadu, I'm so curious to see it!

6. What did you learn about the faith of the people? Did it strengthen your own faith?

Hm. Not completely sure what you mean by this. Are you referring to any exposure I've had to Hinduism? There's a huge overlap here between the culture and the religion, I've actually wondered what it's like to be a Christian Indian here because Hinduism is so intertwined in everything. I think my exposure to Islam in Morocco was more of a "faith building" experience, to hear some of the people talk about their faith there and the earnestness and absolute reverence they feel struck me profoundly.

They don't overtly proclaim their faith here but they aren't entirely casual about it either. What I think I've enjoyed experiencing the most is that in one way or another, religion is constantly on your mind here but not in such a way that it's separated from everything else. It's not uncommon to see a group of strangers gather on the side of the road at dusk to take a break from traveling and pray together. There are public shrines everywhere. Every family has their gods and/or guru. Every event, every decision, every major life moment is carried forward with hope and help from the gods.

Some could say it's riddled with excess of tradition and a dirth of spiritual comprehension. I don't now enough to make a call like that. What I do know that I've found interesting is what an example it is of having an integrated life and having your faith be at the center of it, but not in such a way that it overshadows other things or blinds you.

Any Requests?

I keep a personal journal to record my thoughts, feelings, ideas, things I personally feel the need to record for myself for any variety of reasons, so I’m a little less hung up on using this blog as a means of record keeping, and am more focused on sharing my experiences.

The problem with this is, on any given day, I have a huge range of experiences. And it all just sort of fills up in my head in a giant mass. Which I think plenty about, but not usually with any succinct goal in mind so I tend to spend most of my time quite literally “lost in thought”. And I really don’t have much of an idea what you want to hear about, so I really don’t know what angle to take in sorting through those thoughts and deciding which to share and how.

So if you have any requests, that’d be great. For both of us. It gives me the chance to think about things I might normally pass by without conscious notice, and gives you the chance to hear more about the things you’re particularly curious about.

In asking for your requests though, I have only one request. In order to ease my hesitancy to speak and not be overwhelmed by my lack of comprehension, I ask your patience and understanding towards anything I might have to say. Any angle I take on anything is obviously going to be ridden with the biases of my American background, my fundamental nature, my opinions, my previous experiences, my still developing understanding of the world, any given number of things. (And anything I do say, I can also probably say about six different ways all leading to different points depending on which things I chose to emphasize at the time of telling.) So take it with a grain of salt, I can only say how I see things. If you disagree or if I’m missing some key point or you see things another way, I’d LOVE to hear.

So please! Ask questions! Just leave a comment below or on facebook or an email or…..some mode of contact, if you have anything in particular you’re curious about!

Whoa

I can't believe I only have a week left in Jodhpur. Then a whirlwind week of Jaipur, Agra, and Delhi, and then.......NEW YORK TO SEE DOUG!!!! I basically literally entirely completely cannot wait.

But I'm also amazed there's only a week left and daunted by the prospect of having to wrap things up and then being gone. I suppose it's exacerbated by the fact that the last three weeks have been some horrible combination of being inside all day for lack of energy and abundance of dizziness or frantic report writing. So I haven't felt as immersed or like I've been out doing things as much I would like.

I still have a TON of work left to do on my report, the points I'm trying to make are difficult for me to get a handle on given that it's an extremely complex topic that I've had very limited time and exposure to, and also my particular angle took a while to sort out and the progression of the paper is extremely nuanced and airtight, I have to evaluate every sentence in context of the entire paper, meaning it can take up to an hour just to pump out a paragraph (which is usually how long a 4 page paper takes me after I've researched and outlined). Hopefully it will turn out well and I'll feel accomplished and that will make it worth the while, but there's still a long road ahead. A lack of discipline isn't helping much either, to be honest. I'm getting better though, I NEVER work in the morning, and I got up and put in 4 hours this morning before heading out to do interviews.

Regardless, I'm currently anxious about tying up lose ends and feeling ok with my experience here. Which I know is pointless to worry about, but....just sayin.

Don't Fall!

I went and chilled on the rooftop yesterday and sat by straddling the raised ledge. In my mind, I was firmly and safely seated and any choice to put myself at risk was entirely a problem of my own. One of the ladies in the neighboring complex soon began hollering at me. And like ants crawling out of the woodwork, within minutes, the entire household had come out to join her observations. They were making frantic motions for me to remove myself from the ledge for fear of falling. Passers-by on the road below began to gather to look up as well. They began hollering across fences and through doors and soon more and more people were gathering. I was amazed to see how many people had been tucked away as they emerged from wherever, and the funny thing is, even though I couldn’t see them, everyone knew where everyone else was and knew exactly where to holler to beckon them.

In an attempt to quell concerns, I hollered that I was fine! I was ok! No problems! Eventually, I swung my exterior leg back over so that I was still sitting on the ledge but facing inwards. This didn’t seem to help much, but after a few minutes the crowd seemed to give up and dissipated.

Except for the lady who had first seen me.

For some time she continued to stand there and watch me, frozen with her arms crossed. I began to wonder if she somehow felt it was her responsibility to watch out for me since I had apparently lost the ability to assume responsibility for myself and make safe decisions. It was this that finally brought me down from the ledge.

The bus

I love the bus. Er, I have come to love the bus. Previously it stressed me out. I’ve never minded the random and unpredictable schedule that often leaves me waiting for upwards of an hour, and I’ve enjoyed getting better at perfecting the “watching without looking like you’re watching” body language. What I struggled with a first was not being able to communicate where I was going and the consequent issues it created.

The bus is a fascinating microcosm. 30 people all crammed in a tiny space leads to a lot of interaction to observe. Women dressed in their matching scarves off to the market together, little kids being passed around laps of stranger after stranger, young men on their way to work, old men off to who knows where or why. What I find amazing is how much they work together. Everyone knows where everyone else is going and thus are constantly shifting each other around so people can get ready to get off (unless the bus is REALLY crowded, in which case you just push and shove each other a lot). There’s not a lot of talking going on, but the game of human tetris gives off such a…..fluidity, harmony. Really is a fascinating thing to see. And it’s intuitive for them, why wouldn’t they work together?

I’m finding myself less capable of conveying it than I thought I would be. I guess it’s sort of just one of those things you have to experience yourself.

When I first got here, I knew by sight the place I needed to get off by my house but couldn’t pronounce the name of it for the life of me. The money collector would ask me where I was going to know how much to charge me and it would immediately become an ordeal and I would almost immediately hit the same brick wall I’d hit in the past. Stressssss. Everyone on the bus would start talking amongst themselves and asking me in their own way where I was going and no one understood. Soon enough, the entire bus was worried about me. I felt so bad! I didn’t know how to convey that I knew where I was going and I was fine! Gosh I felt bad about that. I had one time where the lady next to me tried talking to me and I couldn’t understand her and she sort of just looked down and then looked away and I almost burst into tears (hey, after a long, hot, stressful day at work) with frustration at not being able to communicate and feeling out of rhythm with what going on around me. I had another time where, upon not being able to convey my destination, I started naming roads near it and the guy that got off when I did walked with me about twenty paces pointing all the nearby roads out and which direction they were and what things I could find on each road. Incredible, right? Certainly, these experiences have cropped up because I’m a stupid American, but nonetheless, they’ve shown me a little bit how they deal with stuff here and thus have given me gems of insight into how they think and work together and approach problems. All very interesting.

Now that I’ve gotten A LOT better hang of the bus, it’s a really enjoyable way to start my day. I plop my coins in the hand of the conductor while announcing my destination and move with everyone else to adjust and shift as the bus whirls and whips across the city. I feel a part of things, and I really, really, really like that.

They're BUGGERS!

If you’ve read Ender’s Game (or even better, Ender’s Shadow, since I relate to Bean more than Ender), you get this blasphemous reference. Or, if you’re my boyfriend who claims to have read both but can’t remember what Buggers are even though I’ve reminded him half a dozen times, you don’t get it. (sorry baby, love you!)

Regardless, in Card’s work, the Buggers are basically another species with a collective consciousness, that consciousness being that of the queen bugger. In the human’s war against the buggers, they come to understand that this different way of thinking leads to different battle tactics and choices (and I’ll stop there to avoid spoiling a great read).

I’ve had a number of times where I’ll be trying to explain something to someone back home and they’ll eventually ask me, “well, why would they do that?!” and exasperated over not knowing how to further convey things, I’ll declare, “I don’t know! They’re buggers!”

This is obviously a brash and completely unfair comparison since in the novel they are considered the enemy of humanity, but there is something to be said about the analogy collective identity.

The concept of social responsibility is somehow different here, and also pretty nuanced such that I can’t simply say, “everything is everyone’s problem” because….it’s not. There’s a different sense of what is and isn’t your problem and other people’s problems and when any transfer of problem solving occurs.

Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to explore this as much as I might like because of the language barrier, I can’t sit down and talk with people and see what they talk about or eavesdrop on the bus, etc.

I also think my experiences with this are slightly different than it may be for permanent members of the community, it would make sense to me for there to be a sense of “here is this foreigner that doesn’t know how things work, we have to help her.”

In general though, there seems to be a sense of “everyone has a place, and everyone in their place” thus, if there is any deviation from this, it becomes the community’s responsibility to return things to their natural order.

What’s interesting is that I guess, in my mind, the idea of interdependence is somehow related to a sharing of responsibilities; you do all you can, and if the other person doesn’t also, well then, too bad, not your problem. It’s somehow different here. If someone becomes involved in a situation of yours for any variety of reasons, they also assume full responsibility for it. That’s a bit of a generalization, but still interesting to consider.

When I first got here, the community-centric perspective was tangibly obvious, and at first, I was somewhat taken aback. I felt a bit as if people were putting on faces in public. It was so important to appear a certain way. So important to save social face. You did things to preserve your family’s honor and respect in the community.

This mostly puzzled me, but also bothered me slightly. In a way, I felt like people should do things for themselves. It seemed artificial to do things so as to project a certain and calculated public image. In a way, it even seemed….deceitful. (although we do that in the States don’t we. Except we project a self-image rather than a family image, and even that is arguable given the number of times my mom has attempted to dissuade my behavior on the premise that I was making her look bad, not that I cared much, and not that that concept is as prevalent in the States as it is here).

I’m aware that my thoughts on the matter have changed since I “look back on” them and have to make a conscious effort to remember my original perceptions. I think my stance now is along the lines of having a greater appreciation for it as a means of maintaining social order, which can actually be REALLY efficient if you’re optimizing for the community as a whole.

The next two blogs give some of my further thoughts on the matter through some examples.

I Bought a Saree!

It’s absolutely beautiful. It’s sheer and sort of a dark sea green with a little turquoise thrown in and red and gold metallic shimmer throughout. The border print is big and elaborate, embroidered and sequined gold and pink flowers that intricately weave themselves all the way across the chest and over the shoulder like a climbing vine. I got mega props from my host family, which was a nice little bonus to the joyousness of the purchase.

I also got two for friends back home and both of them are so perfect for them, I can’t wait to pass them along. Shivani’s is a beautiful sheer coral with white flowers and is so delicate, it floats across the body. So perfect for her. Theresa’s is the PERFECT shade of purple and the perfect subtly draping chiffon; its bold yet elegant, also perfect for her.

Wait, you're NOT angry?!

(this is long, but I promise it’s an amusing read)

I had a field visit a couple days that required me to leave at 7am. I had reminded Deepa, my host mom/sister, the day before and along with it, the fact that I wouldn’t need a lunch packed since food is provided at the workshops. Negotiating lunchtime needs is a crucial aspect of my relationship with Deepa; it’s a source of great stress and concern for her wanting to fulfill her responsibility to provide for me, which is only exacerbated by the Jain practice of no excess, meaning meals have to be precisely calculated to ensure there is no food left over.

I left in a last second rush (some things never change) and didn’t say bye to Deep on my way out because she wasn’t in the kitchen and the bedroom door was closed and I didn’t want to disturb her. I wasn’t too concerned about it since field visits seemed rather routine by this point.

About two hours later, I got a call from my program director saying to call home immediately and make my whereabouts known to Deepa, who was very concerned about me and who had also packed my lunch which was waiting for me on the table.

Deep didn’t call back when I flashed her and I didn’t make much further effort since I was a tiny bit exacerbated that she had forgotten, which I didn’t consider to be my problem, and yet she was stressed and very likely angry with me, which I felt was slightly unwarranted.

And I didn’t want to be a part of dealing with the food. In my mind, there was nothing that could be done: it had already been prepared and the fact was established that it would not be eaten, even though I knew there would be a circular and seemingly pointless discussion along the lines of “what am I supposed to do with this food I made you?”

I spent most of the day dreading my return home and bracing myself for the inevitable lecture which I would have to take and nod my head to and apologize for creating a situation I felt I hadn’t entirely created, all while having to see Deep stressed and feeling like it was my fault.

When I got home, Deep didn’t say a word. I collapsed absolutely exhausted on my bed and settled into a nap before dinner, which given how little energy I had at this point, was rather normal.

I woke up 14 hours later. The house was silent.

Normally I’m awoken by being screamed at incessantly to come take chai. There’s nothing I hate more than being yelled at first thing in the morning. The silence was refreshing. But eerie and disturbing. I wandered out to investigate and saw no signs of chai heading my direction while chit chatting with Christine while she took her breakfast.

Perplexed, I went back to my room and got ready.

On my way out, I saw Deep on the phone, talking quickly and not looking happy at all.

Later, on the way to the hospital with my director to have some blood work done, I asked her if she knew if everything was ok with my host family. They’d been unusually distant and quiet the last two days and I couldn’t figure out if I was a part of that or not. I told her what had happened with lunch the day before and my fear that Deep was mad at me. I also told her I wasn’t offered chai that morning, which apparently was the ultimate trigger of concern on my director’s part. (and she was so sweet! She immediately became super concerned about my not having my chai and offered to take me anywhere I wanted to get some lol. I didn’t care about having chai, I cared about not being offered any).

She offered to talk to them, but I told her I wanted to feel things out on my own that evening first and then go from there.

Later that day I was informed that she had called my family to see what was up. Apparently Deep had responded defensively, saying what good care she took of me (she does) and how much she does for me (she does), which was all true but rather irrelevant to the situation. I was concerned the phone call had only made things worse.

When I got home, I found Deep in the kitchen and brought up that I had heard my director had called her. I don’t remember precisely how the conversation went down, but within a few minutes, we were both staring at each other in stunned surprise, on the verge of laughter and not knowing what to say.

I thought she was mad at me. They hadn’t talked to me when I got home, they hadn’t called me for dinner, hadn’t called me for chai, hadn’t spoken to me before I left for work.

She thought I was mad at her! I hadn’t come when they called me for dinner, hadn’t responded when they called me for chai, and had gone in my room when she came out of the kitchen in the morning (which I hadn’t noticed at all) and closed the door (I was getting ready).

Apparently, that 14 hours of sleep was so deep that I hadn’t been awoken by their calls and we both completely misinterpreted each others’ actions since we were both making false assumptions about the others feelings.

I Saw A White Person

I came bounding down the office stairs, flitted across the foyer and into the office. And stopped short. I cocked my head and thought, “white person?” I wasn’t sure what had conjured the thought so I backtracked to the office door and leaned back just enough to get a glimpse of the foyer. There was a man. The thought registered, “not Indian arms.” They were possibly tan enough, but the muscle toning was somehow different. And so I leaned out the door yet again. He was looking at a chart on a wall. Only visitors would do that. Specifically, only non local visitors. I was so curious! Who was he? Why was he here? I’d heard something about UNDP earlier, was I about to encounter a real, live UNDP person?! What was his story!

On my way back upstairs I passed him and shyly averted eye contact. I had no clue how to interact with him! From the safety of upstairs, I watched his path around the office to see where he was going and who he was talking to. As I passed him again a few minutes later and he gestured a smile, I very shyly quickly smiled back and melted back into the office.

What’s most funny about all this is that my behavior pretty much exactly matched the reaction of a shy child here when they encounter me, the white person. They’ll hide behind a door and peak out only the tiniest bit, and when you try to smile at them, they cover their faces and sink back farther behind the door, but you know the instant you turn away, they are catching every glimpse of you they can. I’d become so accustomed to being around Indians while at work, that the presence of a white person in the office completely threw me off!

Thursday, July 15, 2010

I'M TIRED OF BEING SICK!

Over the period of the last three weeks or so, my health seems to have been progressively deteriorating.

I thought it was just the heat, but even when it got cooler, I still continued to feel worse. I had so little energy I was barely making it to and from work without being exhausted, my leg muscles were sore all the time no matter how much I stretched, I was dizzy all day, couldn't focus or hold a thought, noticing my hands were jaundice was probably the scariest part, but definitely not the most annoying.

I had spiraled downward to the point where I was opting out of most group activities and had narrowed it down to just going to and from work, and even then, while at work, I could only work for about half an hour before needing to nap for an hour. I couldn't think clearly enough to write the report I need to work on, I couldn't actively involve myself or participate in what was going on around me.

I started doubling up on the vitamins and felt great yesterday.

Today I'm feeling crappy again. Especially dizzy. It's rather hard to write about the historical origins of the panchayat system when you're dizzy.

So. I'm irked. I want this nonsense to cease and desist. I want to be normal and spunky and healthy again so I can go out and experience the city I'm in, instead of having to hide out and rest all day.

That's all.

Saturday, July 10, 2010

The More I Travel....

I realized (rather obviously) that the reasons I feel I like to travel are based off of previous travel experiences and thus thought it might be interesting to talk a bit about some of the things traveling has taught me, so as to add contextual perspective my prior post.

So:

The more I travel, the more I firmly believe in the goodness of humanity. Not that I assume that people are inherently good, but I derive a lot from seeing people choosing to be good. You’d think some of the things you’re exposed to while traveling would make you lose faith in it, but I’ve had so many little (and a few big) moments where I’ve seen goodness, and trust, and generosity, kindness, etc from total strangers. It’s special and amazing to me and makes me love people all the more.

The more I travel the more I realize what an outlier America is compared to the rest of the world. Really, Americans are a different bunch! I think this has helped me to step outside an ethnocentric perspective and see the ways and reasons Americans are so different (super, super, super individualist, for example) and that’s not only been interesting and question provoking (about why America is the way it is and the implications that has on the choices we make, etc), but has also been helpful for being more aware of my biases and the need to keep that in mind when thinking about future international research and projects and such.

The more I travel, the more I see that things are not always as they appear to be. Even the calm surface of the ocean can have raging currents beneath it. And that’s absolutely fascinating. It’s encouraged me to look more closely and carefully at things and seek to understand the underlying reasons behind things.

The more I travel, the more I see that every argument has two sides. Where one argument presents itself, there is the negative space left behind that was not chosen to be a part of it. This has helped me to look at things from both (if not more) angles, and has helped me to ask questions about the negative space: why is there an absence of a particular policy? Why did one policy get chosen over another? Why did one side of an argument win out over another? This brings up cultural, historical, and a bunch of other contextual questions that are always fascinating to look at and think about.

The more I travel, the more motivated I am to get involved in my community back home. I know that sounds counter-intuitive, but it’s helped me to pin point “needs” (for lack of a better term) more clearly and get more comfortable with stepping up and getting involved.

Why I Travel

I recently got an email from a sweet friend and dedicated reader passing along a blog post of one of her friends explaining why she travelled.

I was obviously immediately intrigued by the exercise of overtly considering this and wanted to see what I come up with before reading her post.

So let’s see what happens.

I think, while there are many interesting angles to take that all strike similar tunes, at its core, it could be said that I travel because I like to understand things in different contexts. Obviously, acquainting oneself with a different culture provides a plethora of opportunities for the practice of this.

I travel because it makes more sense to me than not travelling.

I travel because a breath taking landscape is hands down worth a 15 hour flight.

I travel because I want to have a broader and deeper perspective of the world.

I travel because I love people. I love learning about them, how they think, how they feel, what their lives are like, why, how it affects them, how they see the world, their hopes, their dreams, their sufferings, their joys, their priorities, their goals. Traveling is basically a carte blanche to wander and talk to as many people as possible.

I travel because traveling lets me focus on the overarching aspects of life that I want to think and learn about and perspectively minimizes all the nitty gritty details of the daily grind of life back home that are all too easy to get caught up in. Travelling seems to have a knack for stimulating thoughts (ha, although I haven’t been super stimulated here, although that’s another story) about existence and purpose and life and what’s important and all that good stuff ☺

I travel because I like the way of life in developing countries. Prefer it even. I like simple kitchens and clothes lines and fans and bug nets and bucket baths and wicker brooms. It’s not that I’m trying to escape technology, but rather that it’s really important for me to feel connected to things and this way of life is so much more fluid and connected with nature; there’s less transition between inside and outside, it all just….flows. That jives with me really well.

To be honest, there’s a part of me that has been re-evaluating why I travel since I’ve been here in India. I think I’m beginning to realize that part of the reason I derived so much joy, liberation, stimulation, from travelling was because previously I was fairly dissatisfied with my life. It was an escape in some ways. A breath of fresh air that I was eager to fill my lungs with. Aside from feeling pressured to do my professor a favor, half the reason I went back to Uganda last summer was I recognized how much healthier I was there and I wanted to feel that again.
These days, life’s been great. Better learning to chose to be happy is such an awesome thing! It's not just that things in my life have been going really well (although, they have), but I’m a lot happier with the person that I am; I believe in myself so much more, trust myself so much more. That's helped me to embrace myself and let love in so much more. Not that I’m complacently content or delusionally happy, I’m still just as determined and ambitious as ever, but I’m eager and excited about life and the future now, rather than anxiously grasping the future by the neck and being like, “you must work out!!” Being here, travelling, hasn’t left me yearning for my life back home, luckily my confidence is internationally translatable so I don’t feel the need to be in a particular place, but, I guess the only way to describe it is that I’m less like a dog that’s been caged up all day that finally gets to run around outside. Consequently, I’ve been more discerning of the pros and cons of travelling and living here. I apparently can’t seem to succinctly find my bottom line here, but hopefully I’m making some sense.

How Not to Pack for India

First and foremost, it is of vital importance not to pack for India as if you are packing for Uganda.

In other words, do not pack as if you are going to a place where pretty much nothing is available and you must take everything with you.

Everything is available here, and most of it is cheaper and thus makes more sense to buy when you get here.

Some of these items to buy cheaper here include: tissues, toilet paper, shampoo, conditioner, lotion, baby wipes, towels, body wash, hand soap, etc. Basically the bathroom necessities.

Except for face wash. They have Clean and Clear here but it’s just soap, so you prefer some with medication in it, you’ll have to bring it.

Antibacterial wipes are a must for sweaty faces and food covered fingers. PACK LOTS.

Same with hand sanitizer, although I find myself using it less the longer I'm here. I packed a small bottle and a big bottle to refill it with, and haven't even finished off the small bottle yet.

Do not pack food. Your protein bars will sit and collect dust, you will wonder what possessed you to think that almonds wouldn’t be available, and marvel at why you bothered to haul a bag of dead and dried cow meat half way around the world. The food is so savory and satisfying that I’ve barely noticed the absence of meat and haven’t craved American food (well, except for iceberg lettuce. I could really go for some cold, crisp, fresh, crunchy, watery lettuce).

Packing a towel was a waste of space, although wash clothes for the bucket baths was a really good call.

PACK A REFILLABLE WATER BOTTLE. I’m not sure why everyone except me thought of this. Probably because we lived off water bottles in Uganda and I didn’t even know home water filtration systems existed until I got here.

When I say don’t bring clothes, I mean, don’t bring clothes. If you must, do not bring shirts that give any hint at you having a figure and do not bring skirts that do not go to your ankles. Lose capris or long leggings (omg, too hot!) are acceptable depending on where you are, but you’ll be living in the salwar camis and curtas that you buy here.

Do pack a little makeup. I didn’t, and I’ve been asked several times why I don’t wear makeup and do I wear it in America and why not here and why am I so plain? The women here wear lipstick and eyeliner on special occasions and will basically expect you to do the same. Indians take great care to look their best and presentable, it’s a sign of status and dignity, so it seems a bit of an contradiction that the stereotypical American tourist in India looks like they’ve been living in the woods for a year.

Cheap rubber flip flops were a great call. While they take off their shoes at the house of a guest, they wear indoor sandals around the house. Also, packing my nicer strappy leather sandals in addition to my hiking sandals was a great call, I was worried it was unnecessary but what on earth did I think I would wear to all those weddings and parties?

How Not to Lose Your Luggage

It seems like everyone I know has lost their luggage in transit this summer. I’ve been fortunate not to have any troubles during the 5 years I’ve traveled internationally, yet this had me anxiously wondering if it was only a matter of time before my luck ran out, so I was especially worried about this trip and took especial care to ensure the crucial items were safely with me in my backpack.

It worked out cheaper to book my round trip ticket out of JFK, so the first leg of my flight was a one way from Orlando to New York and thus I had to collect my luggage and recheck it upon arrival.

A lightning storm kicked up just as we landed and they closed the runway and announced our luggage could not be delivered to baggage claim. My layover was less than 2 hours and I still had to check in and go through international security. I felt a swear word forming on my tongue.

Then, magically, the luggage carousel came to life.

And off plopped my bag!

And about two other bags.

And then, just as suddenly, the machine shuddered back to stillness.

You know those little moments in your life where you simply can’t deny any conclusion other than someone up high looking out for you? It was one of those moments. I am deeply grateful.

My flight was Kuwait Air to London and then Air India to Delhi. The two airlines have a partnership so I didn’t really distinguish between them, but upon checking in at JFK I was informed that I couldn’t get my boarding pass for Delhi until I got to London. This happens a lot, no biggie. I was concerned about my luggage though. I made sure to ask very clearly that my luggage would be checked through to Delhi and was assured that it was, and indeed, saw the tag they attached to my suitcase labeled “LHR, DEL.”

So I get to London. The layover was 12 hours so when I went to check in I was curious what they had decided to do with my luggage for all that time. I ask the guy at the ticket counter if it was in their system. He made a couple phone calls, disappeared for about 15 minutes, and came back looking worried. They didn’t have it. Maybe it was on its way, the flight didn’t take off for two hours. Give it time.

I got to the gate and was in line to check into the waiting room and pulled aside one of the personnel to ask if they could check and see if my luggage had arrived. He also made a couple phones, disappeared, and came back looking worried.

Air India had no knowledge of my luggage’s existence.

Neither did Kuwait Air.

Where was my luggage?!

I was put on hold longer and passed off to the chief luggage person, who was incredibly nice and completely understood. Thank goodness she did her job well. After a couple phone calls, she said there were a couple unidentified pieces of luggage and she thought mine might be one of them.

I was escorted down to the runway (cool) and there, sitting by its lonesome and looking pitifully helpless and small, was my bag with a big red sticker on it saying DO NOT LOAD.

I marched right up and ripped that sticker off. Do not load, my foot! I hung around long enough to ensure it made it to the luggage cart before heading back to the gate.

And so, that’s the story of how I basically had to personally load my luggage on the plane. I had to ask and check up on it every step of the way, but the bottom line is it got here. For once it came in handy to be persistently pestering!