The weather here takes some getting used to for a Minnesota girl like me. India is north of the equator, but much closer to it than America is. This means that the summers are hot and the winters are mild. When I first arrived in Delhi, the heat was almost unbearable for me, and I was told that it could have been a lot hotter. However, upon arriving in Himachal Pradesh, it was a lot nicer. Granted, it has frequently been hotter than I'd like, being at a much higher elevation keeps the weather cooler. To my understanding, winter here doesn't really get below freezing often, but it is still cold enough to be a bother when you don't have any kind of central heating. I need to get a space heater sometime before then.
This time of year is monsoon season, and this area is rated for the second highest annual rainfall in the country. It rains at least once a day and is humid the rest of the time. I left my laundry out to dry under my overhang yesterday afternoon and it's still not dry yet. I hope it doesn't mold. Today, it has been raining pretty constantly since well before dawn, but other days there is only a morning shower and the sky clears up by lunch time. The rainy season runs through the summer and into September. Last year, it lasted well into October. Here, however, it does rain some outside of monsoon season as well.
Unfortunately for me, my 100 rupee umbrella I bought in Delhi broke after only three uses. I hear there is a man up in Dharmshala that can repair umbrellas, so I will need to visit him, or get myself a new one, pretty soon.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Living in Himachal
I really have a very comfortable living situation here, which Anya found for me before I arrived. It's an apartment on the second floor of a mud brick house. As it turns out, despite the dustiness, mud houses are much better to live in than concrete houses, the alternative around here. The walls absorb the moisture during the rainy season, keep the house cooler during the summer, and warmer during the winter.
This particular house has three apartments on the top floor, one is unoccupied, but the third is occupied by Vandana, a girl from Delhi who recently came up here to work for Jagori. We have already become friends over a love for books and have shared several meals. On the first floor lives our landlady Dr. Kusum and her husband. She is a medical doctor in a local clinic and is an incredibly sweet woman. She is always coming up to see how I'm doing and giving us organic fruits and vegetables from her garden.
My apartment consists on three rooms, each opening separately onto the balcony. First, there is my bedroom, secondly, my kitchen, and thirdly my bathroom. I have uploaded some pictures of each. My bedroom has a desk, shelves, a little closet, a plank bed, and a large pad mattress on the floor. I've taken to sleeping on the floor because it is much more comfortable than the plank bed, which makes a nice couch. I don't have internet at home, however, so I have to find an internet cafe or use one of the NGOs' computer labs when I want to check my email and such.
My kitchen is pretty simple with shelves, a sink, and a stove. The stove is connected to a gas cylinder, which I have to buy about twice a year. I am still in the market for a small refrigerator, but most people around here make do without one. Unfortunately, I share my home with some insects, namely 'silver fish.' Vandana warned me that they like to eat through books, clothes, and food. To combat that, I got some insect repellant pellets to stash on every shelf and in every drawer, and socked up on air tight plastic containers. Also important to my kitchen is a pressure cooker. I have to boil water in that every day to drink so as to kill any bacteria and amoeba in the water that could make me sick.
My bathroom, well, that's even more simple. I have a sink just outside the door, and inside there is a toilet and several spigots for washing. Traditionally, Indian's use a little water bucket to clean themselves after using the toilet instead of toilet paper. I have yet to master this, so I got some toilet paper up in McLeod Ganj. Bathing happens in the same space as well. There isn't a shower or any hot water. I fill a large bucket with some water, than use a smaller scooper bucket to pour it over me. This morning I discovered how to use my heating coil, a coil of metal that when dropped into the bucket will warm up the water, and I can already seen that that will be very nice come cooler weather.
The area I live in is at the foot of the Lesser Himalayas. And, for being 'lesser', these mountains are incredibly impressive. The slope of the land here isn't so steep, but it begins to tire you out when you're always going up or going down. I'm sure I'll get stronger legs and lungs soon enough.
This particular house has three apartments on the top floor, one is unoccupied, but the third is occupied by Vandana, a girl from Delhi who recently came up here to work for Jagori. We have already become friends over a love for books and have shared several meals. On the first floor lives our landlady Dr. Kusum and her husband. She is a medical doctor in a local clinic and is an incredibly sweet woman. She is always coming up to see how I'm doing and giving us organic fruits and vegetables from her garden.
My apartment consists on three rooms, each opening separately onto the balcony. First, there is my bedroom, secondly, my kitchen, and thirdly my bathroom. I have uploaded some pictures of each. My bedroom has a desk, shelves, a little closet, a plank bed, and a large pad mattress on the floor. I've taken to sleeping on the floor because it is much more comfortable than the plank bed, which makes a nice couch. I don't have internet at home, however, so I have to find an internet cafe or use one of the NGOs' computer labs when I want to check my email and such.
My kitchen is pretty simple with shelves, a sink, and a stove. The stove is connected to a gas cylinder, which I have to buy about twice a year. I am still in the market for a small refrigerator, but most people around here make do without one. Unfortunately, I share my home with some insects, namely 'silver fish.' Vandana warned me that they like to eat through books, clothes, and food. To combat that, I got some insect repellant pellets to stash on every shelf and in every drawer, and socked up on air tight plastic containers. Also important to my kitchen is a pressure cooker. I have to boil water in that every day to drink so as to kill any bacteria and amoeba in the water that could make me sick.
My bathroom, well, that's even more simple. I have a sink just outside the door, and inside there is a toilet and several spigots for washing. Traditionally, Indian's use a little water bucket to clean themselves after using the toilet instead of toilet paper. I have yet to master this, so I got some toilet paper up in McLeod Ganj. Bathing happens in the same space as well. There isn't a shower or any hot water. I fill a large bucket with some water, than use a smaller scooper bucket to pour it over me. This morning I discovered how to use my heating coil, a coil of metal that when dropped into the bucket will warm up the water, and I can already seen that that will be very nice come cooler weather.
The area I live in is at the foot of the Lesser Himalayas. And, for being 'lesser', these mountains are incredibly impressive. The slope of the land here isn't so steep, but it begins to tire you out when you're always going up or going down. I'm sure I'll get stronger legs and lungs soon enough.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
First Impressions
It has been a very busy few days since I first stepped foot out into Delhi at something like 12:30 am on Saturday morning. Anya, my senior fellow, picked me up at the airport and we took a hired car back to Abha's house for the night. I briefly met Abha in the morning before she departed for a trip of her own. The rest of Saturday was a whirl-wind shopping adventure around Delhi with Anya and some friends. We picked up a number of things I would need that would be harder to find up in Himachal Pradesh.
The most exciting stop was Nalli's Saris. I would highly recommend it if you are ever in Delhi. Anya's friend recommended it as a good place to get fabric for salwar camis, which are what women wear up where we are. (My impression is that it is farther south in India that most women wear saris on most days. Up here, they seem to be for special occasions.) As we approached the entrance to the store, we were greeted by two security guards and one woman, who asked to search our purses. Upon entering the first floor, we were a bit overwhelmed by all the fancy saris and we began to wonder if we were in the right place for our budgets. As it turns out, the prime minister's wife and daughter were there, doing sari shopping. That certainly explained the extra security, and spoke to the quality of the merchandise.
Up on the third floor we found what we were looking for. Behind long counters manned by clerks were cabinets stacked with folded fabric. As an extremely jet-lagged fabric enthusiast, I was totally overwhelmed. We found the suit sets section marked with affordable prices (this means that they had selected fabrics for the pants, the shirt, and the wrap all together) and started asking the clerks for colors we were interested in. The would take a stack down for us to look through and put it back when we weren't interested. You could hold up the fabric in front of yourself and examine it in front of a mirror to make sure the colors and patterns worked with your complexion. It was great fun, and I walked out with the makings for five suits. I can't wait to get them tailored. It will be way more comfortable than jeans and t-shirts, especially in this weather.
Another interesting adventure for the day came at a coffee house. In another strip mall, we escaped the heat into a chain coffee shop. The atmosphere was so unlike American coffee shops, I would have hardly recognized it. For one, you were served your drink and pastries rather than ordering at the counter. But most strikingly, was that you almost had to shout to be heard by those around your table. It was a lively place with loud music and rumbling bass. Not the sort of place I would go to study. I hear that there are tamer coffee shops, though.
That night, Anya and I took a night bus up to Dharmsala. It was about an eleven-hour trip, and not much sleep was had thanks to the constant honking (on India roads, it's an “I'm coming up behind you” courtesy and not rude at all) followed by the mad twisting and turning up mountain roads. Once we arrived in Dharmsala, we got a taxi down to Rakkar, the village that I am now living in. While it does take some time to get in between, I was amazed at how close I am to there. As a crow flies, it's not far at all, though it's straight up a mountain.
Determined to fight off my jet-lag, after a short nap, I went up to McLeod Ganj with Anya and some of her neighbors and friends. McLeod Ganj is further up the mountain from Dharmsala and is where the Tibetan Government in Exile is housed. It is also a mecca for foreigners and shops selling foreign goods. I was able to find some cereal, pasta, and toilet paper to keep me supplied back home. We took a leisure eating tour of the town, first having pastries and coffee at an Italian bakery, french fries and drinks at a Tibetan restaurant, and finally ended the night with a late dinner at a Korean restaurant (where I tasted the best vegetarian sushi I have ever had). By that time my jet-lag had caught up with me with a vengeance, and I even had to have the taxi driver show me how to get back home. Thank goodness my land lady is well known.
One thing that really surprised me is how so many people know so many other people. As we headed for the bakery, we found a woman who had been here on a long retreat that was friends with one of Anya's friends, and so she joined us for cake. Then we ran into two other Americans, one of whom knew Anya's neighbor, so they joined us for fries. It turns out that the other one had studied Hindi under Virendra Singh, the same fantastic teacher I just spent the summer learning from. It was really fascinating talking to all of those people to hear what they were doing abroad. It was everything from personal growth, to fair trade business, to freelance writing.
Although Rakkar is rural village, it is far from quiet, even at night; honking cars, noisy conversations, crowing roosters, pounding, loud traditional music echoing across the valley, dogs barking, and an occasional roll of thunder. At the same time, it's a relaxed sort of noise, the kind that makes you feel at home.
As I finally lay in bed last night, it really stunned me that this is to be my home for the next two years. My language skills and knowledge of the culture are fairly minimal, and I don't really know what I'll even be doing yet. But here I am and here I'll stay. While I float between apprehension and excitement, I know this will probably be two of the best years of my life.
The most exciting stop was Nalli's Saris. I would highly recommend it if you are ever in Delhi. Anya's friend recommended it as a good place to get fabric for salwar camis, which are what women wear up where we are. (My impression is that it is farther south in India that most women wear saris on most days. Up here, they seem to be for special occasions.) As we approached the entrance to the store, we were greeted by two security guards and one woman, who asked to search our purses. Upon entering the first floor, we were a bit overwhelmed by all the fancy saris and we began to wonder if we were in the right place for our budgets. As it turns out, the prime minister's wife and daughter were there, doing sari shopping. That certainly explained the extra security, and spoke to the quality of the merchandise.
Up on the third floor we found what we were looking for. Behind long counters manned by clerks were cabinets stacked with folded fabric. As an extremely jet-lagged fabric enthusiast, I was totally overwhelmed. We found the suit sets section marked with affordable prices (this means that they had selected fabrics for the pants, the shirt, and the wrap all together) and started asking the clerks for colors we were interested in. The would take a stack down for us to look through and put it back when we weren't interested. You could hold up the fabric in front of yourself and examine it in front of a mirror to make sure the colors and patterns worked with your complexion. It was great fun, and I walked out with the makings for five suits. I can't wait to get them tailored. It will be way more comfortable than jeans and t-shirts, especially in this weather.
Another interesting adventure for the day came at a coffee house. In another strip mall, we escaped the heat into a chain coffee shop. The atmosphere was so unlike American coffee shops, I would have hardly recognized it. For one, you were served your drink and pastries rather than ordering at the counter. But most strikingly, was that you almost had to shout to be heard by those around your table. It was a lively place with loud music and rumbling bass. Not the sort of place I would go to study. I hear that there are tamer coffee shops, though.
That night, Anya and I took a night bus up to Dharmsala. It was about an eleven-hour trip, and not much sleep was had thanks to the constant honking (on India roads, it's an “I'm coming up behind you” courtesy and not rude at all) followed by the mad twisting and turning up mountain roads. Once we arrived in Dharmsala, we got a taxi down to Rakkar, the village that I am now living in. While it does take some time to get in between, I was amazed at how close I am to there. As a crow flies, it's not far at all, though it's straight up a mountain.
Determined to fight off my jet-lag, after a short nap, I went up to McLeod Ganj with Anya and some of her neighbors and friends. McLeod Ganj is further up the mountain from Dharmsala and is where the Tibetan Government in Exile is housed. It is also a mecca for foreigners and shops selling foreign goods. I was able to find some cereal, pasta, and toilet paper to keep me supplied back home. We took a leisure eating tour of the town, first having pastries and coffee at an Italian bakery, french fries and drinks at a Tibetan restaurant, and finally ended the night with a late dinner at a Korean restaurant (where I tasted the best vegetarian sushi I have ever had). By that time my jet-lag had caught up with me with a vengeance, and I even had to have the taxi driver show me how to get back home. Thank goodness my land lady is well known.
One thing that really surprised me is how so many people know so many other people. As we headed for the bakery, we found a woman who had been here on a long retreat that was friends with one of Anya's friends, and so she joined us for cake. Then we ran into two other Americans, one of whom knew Anya's neighbor, so they joined us for fries. It turns out that the other one had studied Hindi under Virendra Singh, the same fantastic teacher I just spent the summer learning from. It was really fascinating talking to all of those people to hear what they were doing abroad. It was everything from personal growth, to fair trade business, to freelance writing.
Although Rakkar is rural village, it is far from quiet, even at night; honking cars, noisy conversations, crowing roosters, pounding, loud traditional music echoing across the valley, dogs barking, and an occasional roll of thunder. At the same time, it's a relaxed sort of noise, the kind that makes you feel at home.
As I finally lay in bed last night, it really stunned me that this is to be my home for the next two years. My language skills and knowledge of the culture are fairly minimal, and I don't really know what I'll even be doing yet. But here I am and here I'll stay. While I float between apprehension and excitement, I know this will probably be two of the best years of my life.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Departing
It's hard to believe that tomorrow I depart for India. On this side of things, two years seems like a long time, but I'm sure it will fly by.
I only have one layover tomorrow in Amsterdam. It's in the wee hours of the morning, so I doubt I'll be able to set foot outside of the airport, but we'll see. Anya is meeting me at the airport in Delhi, and I really look forward to meeting her face to face. I look forward to meeting all the people around Jagori that she's talked about too.
Somehow, I'm over being nervous, though I'm not quite excited yet. I'm sure those emotions will flip-flop all the way to Delhi, but actually setting foot in India can't be anything but exciting.
I only have one layover tomorrow in Amsterdam. It's in the wee hours of the morning, so I doubt I'll be able to set foot outside of the airport, but we'll see. Anya is meeting me at the airport in Delhi, and I really look forward to meeting her face to face. I look forward to meeting all the people around Jagori that she's talked about too.
Somehow, I'm over being nervous, though I'm not quite excited yet. I'm sure those emotions will flip-flop all the way to Delhi, but actually setting foot in India can't be anything but exciting.
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