THE FOOD
Talis, 5 rps ice cream, dolsa, idly, coconut chutney, sambar, piasam, milk bikis…these are things you just can’t get at home. And let me tell you…these foods ALONE are enough for a trip to India!
SCENERY
I live surrounded by lush, green mountains. There are coconuts trees and banana trees in every direction. The sunsets are direct from paradise. The night sky, and the stars…the view of the milky way are incomparable.
SITTING ON THE VERANDA
Talking with Matthew and my favorite Jeeva, that’s when I learn the most about this culture, and when I come to love the people most. And little Priya and Edwin…they’re awesome! Some of my favorite nights are spent out on the veranda talking with them. And when Appa’s over! The uno is intense. The cool night breeze, or watching the rain…watching as Jeeva prepares vegetables…the veranda is one of my favorite places. I’ll be sad to leave it.
THE PEOPLE
Appa! I’m going to miss that dear old man. And the rest of the family is so sweet! And all the people in town that now love us, I’m going to miss them all!
DIAMOND CLASS
There is nothing like going to the theatre in the hot and heavy air of India, then taking your seat in the cool, air conditioned room, on a COUCH! If you are ever in India, and going to see a movie, diamond class is the way to do it. Just twenty rps more, and you get to sit in a love seat or arm chair. Not to mention the intermission snacks (awesome Indian popcorn, ice cream, or mango juice!).
Yeah, I miss a lot of things in America, but as soon as I get back home, my problems will not be solved. I have come to love and adjust to the life here in Tamil Nadu. And I do love it. I’ll miss India, too.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Indians that I love
Jacyla (sp???)
My host-cousin. She stays here a lot.
Arthi and Praisey! My friends at Nirmala College
Mamma and Amma!!! Our favorite dinner-providers!
Some of the adorable neighborhood girls
APPA!!!!
My lovely host-mother, Jeeva :)
Matthew's sister, Salomani. She never fails to re-tie our poor attempts at sarees.
Matthew. My adorable host-father.
Priya and Edwin! My little sister and brother! They're awesome.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Top 5 Things I Miss (in no particular order)
CLEANLINESS
Waking up in a bed and NOT finding dead bug parts stuck to your arms, spending an entire day outside and not having your snot run black, not being covered in perpetual dark grime, eating food without hitting the pockets of dirt, washing my face in the morning and feeling as though it’s still clean a full hour later…these are experiences you just don’t get living here in the village.
AUTUMN
In a land of constant heat and humidity, where the sun is always hot and the air is always sticky…where the leaves are always green and the world is always fertile…in this paradise, yes, I miss fall. I miss seeing the leaves change colors. I miss the crisp air, and the cold rains. I miss the sensation of being chilly. I miss feeling like I need a jacket. I miss my favorite season.
(closely related)
MOSQUITOS THAT DIE IN OCTOBER
That’s really all I (in all my polka-dotted itchiness) really have to say on the subject.
FURNITURE
I come home late at night, I’m tired, and I want a BED to flop down on. I love sitting out on the veranda…but I do occasionally wish I had a couch to curl up in. I’m lonely for my chair. And, not sure if this counts as furniture, but I have really, really missed carpeting.
Aaaaaaaand…
ADJUSTABLE WATER TEMPERATURE
Yeah. Getting up in the morning, and being able to take a shower with water that wasn’t sitting in a dark, concrete room overnight. Then, in the afternoon, when it’s hot, taking a gulp of nice, cool water…water that hasn’t been sitting in a plastic water bottle in our sweltering bedroom. I would like to wash my hands in whatever temperature I’d like, or brush my teeth, or wash my face…
So yes. I really do love India, and I am enjoying my time here. But I think if our village could somehow make these few improvements, those few bad days I run into would be much more bearable.
Waking up in a bed and NOT finding dead bug parts stuck to your arms, spending an entire day outside and not having your snot run black, not being covered in perpetual dark grime, eating food without hitting the pockets of dirt, washing my face in the morning and feeling as though it’s still clean a full hour later…these are experiences you just don’t get living here in the village.
AUTUMN
In a land of constant heat and humidity, where the sun is always hot and the air is always sticky…where the leaves are always green and the world is always fertile…in this paradise, yes, I miss fall. I miss seeing the leaves change colors. I miss the crisp air, and the cold rains. I miss the sensation of being chilly. I miss feeling like I need a jacket. I miss my favorite season.
(closely related)
MOSQUITOS THAT DIE IN OCTOBER
That’s really all I (in all my polka-dotted itchiness) really have to say on the subject.
FURNITURE
I come home late at night, I’m tired, and I want a BED to flop down on. I love sitting out on the veranda…but I do occasionally wish I had a couch to curl up in. I’m lonely for my chair. And, not sure if this counts as furniture, but I have really, really missed carpeting.
Aaaaaaaand…
ADJUSTABLE WATER TEMPERATURE
Yeah. Getting up in the morning, and being able to take a shower with water that wasn’t sitting in a dark, concrete room overnight. Then, in the afternoon, when it’s hot, taking a gulp of nice, cool water…water that hasn’t been sitting in a plastic water bottle in our sweltering bedroom. I would like to wash my hands in whatever temperature I’d like, or brush my teeth, or wash my face…
So yes. I really do love India, and I am enjoying my time here. But I think if our village could somehow make these few improvements, those few bad days I run into would be much more bearable.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Once Upon a Time
…in a far away land, there was a small group of girls living among a people that were very different from themselves. They loved learning about these people, and tried to understand their ways.
One day, these girls met a very kind friend, named Naga. Naga took the girls to her home, and fed them dinner with her family. Naga’s parents, brother, and new sister-in-law were all very kind and helpful to these girls. They fed them wonderful food, and taught them some of the culture. The girls and the family together had a very fun evening, and they all became good friends.
The girls got busy, and neglected to visit the family again for a long time. Finally, a few weeks later, one of the girls went back to the home. When she arrived, she met Naga’s brother and sister-in-law (who’s name was Vasanthi), but did not see Naga. When she asked where Naga was, the brother looked very sad, and said that Naga had gone away, to the city, and would not come home. Naga had fallen in love with a man, but her parents were unhappy. They did not approve of Naga falling in love. It was not the ways of the people. They did not accept Naga’s choice, and Naga had to leave forever.
The girl was very sad for the family, and very surprised! She never expected Naga to make this decision. But Naga was gone, and the girl tried very hard to comfort the family. The mother was most sad. She cried with the girl. But the family began to heal, and the girl became even better friends with them.
The girl came to love the family very much, and today, she visits them often. The family fed her good foods, and taught her many new things. She soon found out that Vasanthi did not have beliefs like her family, but that Vasanthi’s religion was similar to her own! The girl and Vasanthi sat, and talked about religion much. They became very close friends, and still talk much today. Although they are still sometimes very sad about Naga, the girl and the family have grown very close, and treasure the friendship that they have made.
(When I found out Vasanthi was Christian, not Hindu [and when she found out that I was Christian] the both of us were excited! She told me that she has a Bible that she loves to read. I told her about the Book of Mormon. She told me that if I had a book for her, she would read it, but that she did not read English well. I recently [as recently as Sunday] secured a Tamil copy of the Book of Mormon! I just recently gave it to Vasanthi. She seems very receptive.
I am so grateful to have this chance, to learn about these people, and to befriend them! I am really enjoying my experience here. I look forward to coming home, and do sometimes miss Western culture, but the thought of leaving these people and this culture always makes me sad. I have truly come to love these people.)
One day, these girls met a very kind friend, named Naga. Naga took the girls to her home, and fed them dinner with her family. Naga’s parents, brother, and new sister-in-law were all very kind and helpful to these girls. They fed them wonderful food, and taught them some of the culture. The girls and the family together had a very fun evening, and they all became good friends.
The girls got busy, and neglected to visit the family again for a long time. Finally, a few weeks later, one of the girls went back to the home. When she arrived, she met Naga’s brother and sister-in-law (who’s name was Vasanthi), but did not see Naga. When she asked where Naga was, the brother looked very sad, and said that Naga had gone away, to the city, and would not come home. Naga had fallen in love with a man, but her parents were unhappy. They did not approve of Naga falling in love. It was not the ways of the people. They did not accept Naga’s choice, and Naga had to leave forever.
The girl was very sad for the family, and very surprised! She never expected Naga to make this decision. But Naga was gone, and the girl tried very hard to comfort the family. The mother was most sad. She cried with the girl. But the family began to heal, and the girl became even better friends with them.
The girl came to love the family very much, and today, she visits them often. The family fed her good foods, and taught her many new things. She soon found out that Vasanthi did not have beliefs like her family, but that Vasanthi’s religion was similar to her own! The girl and Vasanthi sat, and talked about religion much. They became very close friends, and still talk much today. Although they are still sometimes very sad about Naga, the girl and the family have grown very close, and treasure the friendship that they have made.
(When I found out Vasanthi was Christian, not Hindu [and when she found out that I was Christian] the both of us were excited! She told me that she has a Bible that she loves to read. I told her about the Book of Mormon. She told me that if I had a book for her, she would read it, but that she did not read English well. I recently [as recently as Sunday] secured a Tamil copy of the Book of Mormon! I just recently gave it to Vasanthi. She seems very receptive.
I am so grateful to have this chance, to learn about these people, and to befriend them! I am really enjoying my experience here. I look forward to coming home, and do sometimes miss Western culture, but the thought of leaving these people and this culture always makes me sad. I have truly come to love these people.)
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Juice Surprise!
Funny story!
K, so we’re shopping today, and I am soooo thirsty! Here in Coimbatore, seriously…there are fruit stalls every twenty meters or so. They’re everywhere! Fruit is everwhere, so they sell fruit everywhere, and everwyehre that fruit is sold, they make juice.
Yet somehow, in this juice-haven of a city, as I wander, like a walking human raisen, with half the water content in my blood that should be allowed, yes—in this moment, I look to my left; I look to my right; I look forward and backward, up and down; I look here and there and everywhere, but NOWHERE is a juice shop to be found!
I stumble, weak from my lack of hydration, down to the corner, and around to the other street. I throw myself on the steps of Bata, and wait for death to come and claim me (either death or the bus I need—whichever comes first).
And then it happened. I lift my head (a terrible struggle), and peer across the street. All else fades from my vision as I spy a single, unattractive Indian lady, standing in her saree.
But it was not the lady that held captive my attention. Neither was it her saree. No…no, it was the thing in her hand. This…this thing! It was a glass! Yes! This single, unattractive Indian lady, standing in her saree, was holding a glass! And it was a glass full of…JUICE!
Unable to create a full thought, I somehow find myself on my feet. I miraculously make it across the busy Coimbatore road alive, and find a cart with a juicer on top.
I manage to communicate to the ownder, to this merciful man, that I would like a glass of whatever this life-juice was, which he was distributing.
Then I watched.
I watched as this kind man reached down, and brought forth a bundle of sticks. It appeared as though the bark had been removed, but yes…sticks*. He then proceeded to feed these sticks through the juicer, and out came—you guessed it—stick juice!
I watched as the juice trickled into a pot, as he picked a random glass from the stand (quite possible the very same glass that had only just left the fingers, and lips, of the single, unactractive Indian lady in her saree), I watched as he, with his bare hands crushed dirt- and (possibly) parasite-infested homemade ice into the glass.
I then watched as he poured the stick juice into the glass from the unattractive Indian lady and her saree, into the homemade, parasite-infested iced, into my glass, and handed it to me.
And I drank the juice.
P.S. For those kind souls that may be concered for my physical well-being, you need not worry. Just as I reached for the glass, the bus I needed pulled around the corner. I chugged it before the parasite ice ever had a chance.
*see comments
K, so we’re shopping today, and I am soooo thirsty! Here in Coimbatore, seriously…there are fruit stalls every twenty meters or so. They’re everywhere! Fruit is everwhere, so they sell fruit everywhere, and everwyehre that fruit is sold, they make juice.
Yet somehow, in this juice-haven of a city, as I wander, like a walking human raisen, with half the water content in my blood that should be allowed, yes—in this moment, I look to my left; I look to my right; I look forward and backward, up and down; I look here and there and everywhere, but NOWHERE is a juice shop to be found!
I stumble, weak from my lack of hydration, down to the corner, and around to the other street. I throw myself on the steps of Bata, and wait for death to come and claim me (either death or the bus I need—whichever comes first).
And then it happened. I lift my head (a terrible struggle), and peer across the street. All else fades from my vision as I spy a single, unattractive Indian lady, standing in her saree.
But it was not the lady that held captive my attention. Neither was it her saree. No…no, it was the thing in her hand. This…this thing! It was a glass! Yes! This single, unattractive Indian lady, standing in her saree, was holding a glass! And it was a glass full of…JUICE!
Unable to create a full thought, I somehow find myself on my feet. I miraculously make it across the busy Coimbatore road alive, and find a cart with a juicer on top.
I manage to communicate to the ownder, to this merciful man, that I would like a glass of whatever this life-juice was, which he was distributing.
Then I watched.
I watched as this kind man reached down, and brought forth a bundle of sticks. It appeared as though the bark had been removed, but yes…sticks*. He then proceeded to feed these sticks through the juicer, and out came—you guessed it—stick juice!
I watched as the juice trickled into a pot, as he picked a random glass from the stand (quite possible the very same glass that had only just left the fingers, and lips, of the single, unactractive Indian lady in her saree), I watched as he, with his bare hands crushed dirt- and (possibly) parasite-infested homemade ice into the glass.
I then watched as he poured the stick juice into the glass from the unattractive Indian lady and her saree, into the homemade, parasite-infested iced, into my glass, and handed it to me.
And I drank the juice.
P.S. For those kind souls that may be concered for my physical well-being, you need not worry. Just as I reached for the glass, the bus I needed pulled around the corner. I chugged it before the parasite ice ever had a chance.
*see comments
Oh my!
I can cope with the monstrous spiders on my bedroom walls. I'm all right with the cockroaches on the bathroom floor. The giant rat that lives in the yard doesn't give me problems. I avoid them when I have to, but for the most part, we all coexist quite peaceably (except for the part where I, or someone nearby, kills the unwanted pest).
None of these critters caused me any lasting trauma. I see them, I may squeal a little, or hop back on one foot...but the unfortunate foe either meets its end, or crawls away and leaves me unharmed in any way.
I recently experienced a much more memorable encounter with a small, unwanted animal.
It all began one dark night, when, for the nightly electricity outage, I could stand the sweltering heat of our fan-less bedroom no longer, and went out to the veranda to catch a breeze. It wasn't long before a fellow room mate quit the heat of the room and joined me on the veranda. And there we sat talking.
Our conversation became more involved, and by the time the electricity came back on, and we could have returned to our room, under the relief of a working fan, neither of us moved. We simply sat, talking in the globe light coming from the nearby streetlights. It was around this time, as I sat talking and staring into the ghostly courtyard, that a stray strand of twine captured my attention.
However, as we chatted and I stared, this piece of twine slithered. I don't know if you knew, but...twine doesn't generally move of its own accord. In fact...it doesn't. Ever. Needless to say, my previously loosely directed attention was suddenly riveted on this "twine." I stared, and pointed, and mumbled something along the lines of "I think there's a snake over there."
My partner in conversation got up and said she would be back with a flashlight to see for sure. Of course, by "I think there's a snake over there," what I really meant was "I know there's a snake over there. And you're an idiot" (pardon...that may sound harsh. It's an India Field Studies thing). However, I allowed her to leave, as I stood (it may have been more like a hop back on one foot, the details are a bit fuzzy), my eyes stuck to this mass slithering toward the veranda.
She came back with her flashlight and agreed that yes, indeed there was a snake ("Mh-hmm."). We went to wake the host family.
Appa was first up, and ready for battle. However, his weapon of choice is most commonly a small, twig broom. I've heard tales of Appa wielding a sling-shot, but have yet to experience this myself. Regardless, this twig broom appeared on this evening. It would not be sufficient against this beast. When Appa saw the enemy at hand, and realization dawned, he lowered his broom and yelled something in the local tongue to our host father.
Our dear host father came out of the bedroom, groggy, and saw the snake (this thing was big). He went back to his room, and emerged once again with a large, wooden stick in hand and quite a bit more focus in his eyes. He solemnly declared this an extremely poisonous viper.
As the females of the household (myself inclusive) huddled against the wall, this brave man bent over the snake, wooden stick hovering, until just the right moment, when the stick came down, smashing the head of the snake.
This, sadly, was not a sufficient blow. Although the snake was incapacitated, and would not likely live through the night...it was not dead. I think. The snake slayer sent another forceful jab to the serpent's head. The exact time of death for this unpleasant visitor is still in question by all witnesses. The being continued to writhe, squirm, and slither for quite some time after the first two blows to the head. Our courageous host father continued on in his brave battle for many long minutes before finally satisfied with the amount of life left in the dying (or dead) fiend coiled at the steps of his home.
Although this incident is over, and through the course of the night, I am confident that the snake was sufficiently killed and disposed of (as I stood watching the majority of the process), I have been left with an inescapable sense of fear whenever laeving the safety of my bedroom late at night. The spiders, the cockroaches, and the rat have left little (no?) impression on me. But the look in the eyes of my host father, and the tone in his voice when he thanked us for waking him have not left me.
Snakes do not commonly frequent the homes in this area, and all immediate danger has been removed. Another snake is not expected. And yet, I am left worrying each night, waving my flashlight around the courtyard, frightened that I might see something.
I am glad to be here. This is a wonderful country, and a wonderful opportunity. And I thank God that I don't have to stay here forever.
None of these critters caused me any lasting trauma. I see them, I may squeal a little, or hop back on one foot...but the unfortunate foe either meets its end, or crawls away and leaves me unharmed in any way.
I recently experienced a much more memorable encounter with a small, unwanted animal.
It all began one dark night, when, for the nightly electricity outage, I could stand the sweltering heat of our fan-less bedroom no longer, and went out to the veranda to catch a breeze. It wasn't long before a fellow room mate quit the heat of the room and joined me on the veranda. And there we sat talking.
Our conversation became more involved, and by the time the electricity came back on, and we could have returned to our room, under the relief of a working fan, neither of us moved. We simply sat, talking in the globe light coming from the nearby streetlights. It was around this time, as I sat talking and staring into the ghostly courtyard, that a stray strand of twine captured my attention.
However, as we chatted and I stared, this piece of twine slithered. I don't know if you knew, but...twine doesn't generally move of its own accord. In fact...it doesn't. Ever. Needless to say, my previously loosely directed attention was suddenly riveted on this "twine." I stared, and pointed, and mumbled something along the lines of "I think there's a snake over there."
My partner in conversation got up and said she would be back with a flashlight to see for sure. Of course, by "I think there's a snake over there," what I really meant was "I know there's a snake over there. And you're an idiot" (pardon...that may sound harsh. It's an India Field Studies thing). However, I allowed her to leave, as I stood (it may have been more like a hop back on one foot, the details are a bit fuzzy), my eyes stuck to this mass slithering toward the veranda.
She came back with her flashlight and agreed that yes, indeed there was a snake ("Mh-hmm."). We went to wake the host family.
Appa was first up, and ready for battle. However, his weapon of choice is most commonly a small, twig broom. I've heard tales of Appa wielding a sling-shot, but have yet to experience this myself. Regardless, this twig broom appeared on this evening. It would not be sufficient against this beast. When Appa saw the enemy at hand, and realization dawned, he lowered his broom and yelled something in the local tongue to our host father.
Our dear host father came out of the bedroom, groggy, and saw the snake (this thing was big). He went back to his room, and emerged once again with a large, wooden stick in hand and quite a bit more focus in his eyes. He solemnly declared this an extremely poisonous viper.
As the females of the household (myself inclusive) huddled against the wall, this brave man bent over the snake, wooden stick hovering, until just the right moment, when the stick came down, smashing the head of the snake.
This, sadly, was not a sufficient blow. Although the snake was incapacitated, and would not likely live through the night...it was not dead. I think. The snake slayer sent another forceful jab to the serpent's head. The exact time of death for this unpleasant visitor is still in question by all witnesses. The being continued to writhe, squirm, and slither for quite some time after the first two blows to the head. Our courageous host father continued on in his brave battle for many long minutes before finally satisfied with the amount of life left in the dying (or dead) fiend coiled at the steps of his home.
Although this incident is over, and through the course of the night, I am confident that the snake was sufficiently killed and disposed of (as I stood watching the majority of the process), I have been left with an inescapable sense of fear whenever laeving the safety of my bedroom late at night. The spiders, the cockroaches, and the rat have left little (no?) impression on me. But the look in the eyes of my host father, and the tone in his voice when he thanked us for waking him have not left me.
Snakes do not commonly frequent the homes in this area, and all immediate danger has been removed. Another snake is not expected. And yet, I am left worrying each night, waving my flashlight around the courtyard, frightened that I might see something.
I am glad to be here. This is a wonderful country, and a wonderful opportunity. And I thank God that I don't have to stay here forever.
Uno in a Dhoti, Part II
So I guess this was a REALLY round-about way of saying all of this, but my point to all of this is simply to say...Appa is adorable.
He walks around in his dhoti, and bobbles his head, and he plays uno.
Appa is a meanuno player! He doesn't mess around! I tell you, get a couple of those kids, and a field studies student going on a game of uno with Appa, and...it is incredible to behold. In fact, I have a video. I'll add it sometime.
And yes. That is basically what I wanted to say. I love Appa.
He walks around in his dhoti, and bobbles his head, and he plays uno.
Appa is a meanuno player! He doesn't mess around! I tell you, get a couple of those kids, and a field studies student going on a game of uno with Appa, and...it is incredible to behold. In fact, I have a video. I'll add it sometime.
And yes. That is basically what I wanted to say. I love Appa.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)