So this is what it feels like to be a celebrity

So where to begin, after the past two weeks when I have not blogged, which included the departure of our beloved Jenny, and a trip to Konark, to the Indian Ocean? Where to begin explain how much is being filtered by my heart and mind right now? With the play-by-play, I can explain how we took an overnight train to Bhubaniswar (we called it boobie, and also bibidibobidiboo, since none of us could pronounce it) and the 2 hour car ride to the coast to Konark, where we caught our first dazzling view of the olive green bay of Bengal, the white caps, the palm trees. I can tell how I got a sunburn at the sun temple, even though it was raining and I was barefoot under the shelter of a brightly striped umbrella. I can tell you there were monkeys on the roof of the hotel, and I can even try to explain the masterful paintings (painted with brushes made from mouse tail hair. imagine the details of these works!) we saw and bought at a artists colony somewhere in the palm forest 1.5 hours from Konark. We swam in the Bay, only going into to our knees because of the ankle-wrenching rip tides, emerging to run the frothy surf like children or wild horses. I painted a picture using seawater to moisten my watercolors. We were titillated and tantalized by the reliefs of Kama Sutra on the Sun Temple built around 1100 C.E. And we went to a Buddhist Stupa on a small mountain. There are herds of cows striped with ribs with years of grazing in the streets roaming the avenues and beach and rice paddies with colorful saris crouched in their depths, and palm-thatched huts made out of waves of aluminum and child-made bricks. We learned that the rolling blackouts that strike Kolkata are an even more frequent occurrence in the rural Orissa, where the lights, TV, and AC will go out at a moment's notice two or three times a day. This makes the stray dogs outside our room howl like werewolves, much to my dismay. We discovered puri, little things like sopapillas, only one eats them savory, though we requested jam.

What I can only describe but not really communicate is the way everyone stared and pointed at us. There's a strange feeling I have not yet learned to explain that comes from gazing out the window of a van, knowing that glass is not the only thing separating me from the barefoot people stopping their work to watch us pass, mouths open. I have never been so tragically aware of my gender and race than I am in India. For example, last night some of us went with 2 friends to a disco. Or we thought it would just be one. We ended up out until 4:00am because Manesh knows people in high places and we were paraded around to Kolkata's five most exclusive clubs, walking in with a breeze (except for at Roxy, where they would not let Ishani and Ahana, the two ethnic Indians in the group in. if their Indianness is why they were kept out I do not know, but I can look for patterns as well as anyone), and allowed to climb out of our Tata car (all 9 of us, from a big hatchback!) before the slick white Mercedes could unload their leggy passengers. And then there are the cameras. The flashes and snaps of shutters capturing Ashley's fair skin, Rhi's dance moves, my mane of blond hair, the Indian men lurking in the background. The free shots of vodka. Sometimes I feel like my presence at All Bengal does more harm than good. It makes me so sad when the gorgeous 16-year-old girls (like Pooja, who was left on a train when she was 5 by a father who had killed her mother by pouring acid on her,) spend all of their minimal English telling Hannah and Kseniya and I how beautiful we are. How our white skin is so beautiful and their "black" skin is not. Their self-esteem is crippled and it kills me. There are ads everywhere for skin-whitening creams and soaps. Queen Victoria, what have you done to these people? In the U.S. women spend money to be tan. In India men and women spend money to make them selves fairer. Does that seem right to you?

On the funny end of things, though, there was last night at 3:30 when Menesh finally felt we had seen enough of NightLifeKolkata and we made out way home. And got a flat tire. So we now have a new joke. "How many American girls does it take to change a tire?" In the end, Manesh found a taxi driver who did it for Rs. 60 (about $1.25) because he didn't want us standing in the road. Instead he turned up the techno remixes of Lady Gaga and Flo Rida and the like so we could have a soundtrack while he stood over the narrow-shouldered cab driver.

I now have plans for travel during the 2-week long break at Durga Puja (a big festival with the goddess Durga, the consort of Shiva involving massive temporary bamboo structures throughout the city and an eventual submersion of the deities in the Ganges.) As a group (which I’m less than enthused about, only because a group of 11 is much harder to organize than a group of 4 or 5) we're taking an overnight train to Varanasi, where Lord Buddha gave his first sermon, and after two days on to Agra to see the Taj Mahal, and then after another 2 days to Jaipur (nick-named the "pink city" because of the color the city walls turn at dusk), in the state of Rajasthan, which is famous for the fierce warlord-tribesmen of old. So, that should be awesome, assuming I don't kill anyone. Not mentioning any names, of course..... dang it.

Photos from the past week

wrote looong-assed blog. it got deleted. trying not to kill myself.

here's 4 photos that took over night to upload....

1. McDonald's on Indian Independence Day

2. Kama Sutra at the Sun Temple in Konark

3. The view from the Buddhist Stupa outside Bhubaneswar

4. At the Bay of Bengal (Indian Ocean) near Konark

celebrity11

i had about 500 photos of me taken on sunday... at a gorgeous piece of architeture, right? HUGE. like Taj-Mahal-huge, and all the indian people wanted to do was take photos of us. of me, or hannah, of jenny. posing, or just standing there. it was like being at a zoo. families sent their kids to sit with us for a photo. it was rediculous! two guys approached Hannah/bracelets and i as we were trying to find a bathroom, asked for a photo, and we were like "uh, yeah i guess... ok? uh he." and suddenly there were like 15 dudes. allll wanting a photo of one of us and them. like solo. We've been stared at everywhere we go, but nothing was like this. people wave at us from buses, on the streets.... it's so strange. i'm not used to being stared at, just for being me. then again, i think to date i've only seen about 6 other white people in the whole city of 14 million. so. i guess i'd be staring to. staring at the gringos. or goras, as i guess we're called. (this info courtesy of Bend It Like Bekham and confirmed by Rekha, my roommate.)

I also had my first day of work today, which was CRAZY. Basically the four of us going to All Bengal (www.abwu.org), which is a non-religiously affiliated women's union that has a big school and orphanage (and an intense program for girls and women who've been victims of sex trafficking) got MAULED by little girls for about an hour. They showed us their secret handshake (which sometimes involves a swipe of the hair (a "diss") instead of the grand friendly finale handshake, and showed us their favorite dance that has the words "rambana ramaba" etc whatever what means. I'll give you a clue how it ends though, and how i could join in dancing right away: the last words of the song to the dance are in english and go "heyyyy macarena!" Some things, like the macarena, are universal. It's a very frustrating program here though, because we are basically driven to All Bengal and dropped off. and that's it. We don't know who's in charge, or what to do, and no one speaks enough english to help us out, and the office is empty, and English classes (when we'd be the most useful) are in the afternoon.... when we're not there. so. Ishani, Kseniya, Hannah and I just faked it, found a room with kids and a "teacher" (she neither said nor did anything all morning) and drew, sung, and danced with them, did some English reading and speaking, and TRIED to learn names and some basic Bengali. This is harder than I had anticipated, as i will explain shortly. The point is, that once we get over the fact that we have NO idea what to do, and feel rather unhelpful, we have a good time. i almost stole one of the girls, but she wouldn't fit in my bag.

Bengali. wowzuh. there are 4 tTs. T (hard), T (soft), Th (hard, aspirated) and Th (soft, aspirated). ok great. so what the hell does that mean?!?!?! there is G, and also Gh. and B, and Bh (which sounds like P, not to be confused with Ph (which sounds nothing like an "F") and there's one of the N's, which is "basically a sound that is impossible for a human tongue to make, so we pronounce it like this....." and he makes a sound that does not sound human at all. Anyway. there are 58 characters total, but the 12 vowels have two written worms each, depending on if they're standing alone or if they're attached to a consonant. GAAAH! This is when we all start screaming, and stick to the basics "bhaalo aache" (I'm well) and "koob bhaalo" (very good) and Jhol (water) and Aloo (potato) and that's about it. today i added "what's your name?" to my rep, but might be (to quote my mother) ordering a pizza. since all we eat is potatoes., rice and bread, i think not though.

One of the boys has been puking for two days now too, so we're NOT excited about that. and Dan gave me a cold. by sharing our tooth-brushing cup. DANG IT. (We have to use a cup to brush our teeth because the tap water is american-belly unfriendly. it's a pain, but better than getting bacteria. SO.

fruit, of course is laking in my diet, so I bought a papaya at the market (we're only supposed to eat fruit that we cut and peel ourselves....) and it was THE BEST THING I HAVE EVER EATEN. well. it was up there at least. big and ripe, and sweet, and no seeds, and only 20 cents! MUST HAVE MORE. Actually, everything is cheap here. bought a gorgeous floor-length skirt with indigo and vermillion elephants and flowers all over it for 5 dollars, and a shirt out of cotton with plant dyes for 8, and earrings for less than a dollar. whee!!! make your requests for presents now!

tomorrow is INdian Independence Day, so there's crazy emails form the US government telling us to watch out for random pakistanis with bombs, but i'm very bored about it. this culture of fear is really disgusting.

some photos:

numero uno! or as they say in Bengali... actually, i don't know what they say in Bengali...

so. india. yowzuh. FRICKING INTENSE. it's SO humid. i mean it's hot too, but the humidity is what really kills me. I am currently on my first day of being able to remove my wrist splint thing (i re-read the notes and stuff from the OT--now that i'm NOT puking--and saw she said i can take it off "when at home" --which means now) and it feels AWSOME! the ceiling fan is blowing, and i can almost forget that i got shat on by a Indian crow (they're like squirrel furtive+pigeon everywhereness+eagle size+seagull ballsy+rat hygiene) and that i spent three hours with my 11 companions at one of MT (mother theresa's) homes trying to register to do service there only to find out that they can't take any of us, and to experience nun rudeness. HOLY HELL. BUT. lest it sound as though i'm complaining, allow me to continue: my roommate, and Indian MBA student named Rekah is really sweet, funny, and has an ethernet cable in her room that i can borrow sometimes. Three other IPSL students like me are in this house too. Dan, from Beloit who's AWESOME, Jenny, a californian 3-week student (imagine all the stereotypes but add a brain and a dirty sense of humor) and Josh a smart though sometimes napoleonic-complexed gentleman from St Louis make up the gang, and we have a great time. Every meal-- curry! potatoes! okra! rice! pita! and that's all but it's so good i don't care!-- we have very intense conversations about the taboos: sex, religion, money, politics! and we have a good time almost dying in the indian traffic. Cars pick us up for classes, but eventually we'll learn the subway, which is oddly clean, and it's always the same two cars. the red car, that seats 5 (but we put 7 in there) driving by the young guy who speaks NO ENGLISH, and the silver car where everyone else crams in with the old english-speaking driver. in any case. there are stop signs and traffic lights and traffic cops. but i have not yet seen any of them heeded. the drivers seem to honk as if only to say "hey! I'm still here!" (I suspect this is the main reason why i wake up at 6--it's too loud to sleep more!)

we've been driving around to the different service sights to see what our options are, but the program is very disorganized. we entered the hospice yesterday to be told after ten minutes of awkward waiting that it was a bad time, that they were closed, and then when we got back outside to the cars our "heroic leader" Prof A. Ray was missing! so. we got accosted by beggers for about 15 minutes while we waited. this was not our first encounter with the city's countless homeless and poor. There was the man who everyone now knows as my boyfriend. he was a toothless man who followed me (though I was not alone in the group) down the street for about ten minutes laughing, singing, clapping, and pointing at my butt, the little boy who i stupidly handed my umbrella thinking he wanted "to look at it" (he tried to run away with it...) and the others who makes their homes--whole familes--infront of the petrol station, or under the tarp at the corner of the street with the sweet shop and the store with the vodaphone store (we can't find street signs anywhere. crap.)

the other places we visited were MT's children's home today (the epic fail of them being full....) a school for street children called the "rainbow school" run by a fearsome irish nun, an NGO (non gonvernment organization) for young adult literacy (english. It's really a necessity here.) and on tuesday we'll visit one more place, a women's union. but, as usual, we don't really know what it is, or what it does. (I was told ahead of time by previous participants in this program that communication and organization were a joke. it's pretty frusteratin, considering how much i'm paying for this program, but then again, i'm in INDIA, and the toddler at Shishu Bhava today who spent 15 minutes just running in a circle around my feet, using my knees as a handle (and didn't mind falling down every two roations) is completely worth it.

as far as the host family goes. it's a woman, Mo, who is a dancer, and divorced. but dancing to Hindus is not an art form, but rather a philosophy, and she is considered a scholar. her bother was in town, but left today. he lives in New Jersey, and her son was also in town. he goes to brown. so. obviously a very unintelligent family..... it's actually two aparments on a single floor, and we (dan, Josh, Rekah and I have one to ourself. Jenny is in a servant room in Mo's, but she's only staying for 2 more weeks.) SO. it's good. the servants are funny. Aunty, who speaks decent english, we rarely see, and Mo's bother's old nanny, who speaks NONE and it ANCIENT (she actually left for jersey with him today-- she goes every year for a month) and then the cook, who's name we don't know, who jabbers at us in Bengali and no one knows what he's saying. ever. even when Mo says he's speaking english... oops.

we haven't really started classes yet.

eeep! dinner time! curry!

Last day

live from Brooklyn on a dreary sunday morning, I find myself in a cast, boxers and a tank top, trying to really wrap my head round the concept "I'm going to India." It's like being a small child trying to realize the countdown to christmas or a visit to Grandma's is not only approaching, but only a few hours away. and here i am, reverting to old habits. The past week was a whoorlwind to say the least, comprised of a trip to the E.R. rapid packing, lots of vomiting, surgery, catching up with old friends, Breyer's Mint chocolate chip ice cream (the best ice cream on the planet) and such.

I'm quite apprehensive that i'm not actually mentally equipped for this great "jaunt" to south asia. WHAT IS IT GOING TO BE LIKE? HOLY BATMAN! but no. it's ok. ok ok ok damn it.

anyway. that's what i got for now. gonna go wash hair, pack up carry-on, and charge computer. GO TEAM.