Today I had an unexpected adventure. I was walking back up from buying rice in Sidhbari, intending to go back to the Knowledge Center to use the internet there, when Didi called to me from her car, just up the road, “Jenna! Come to the village feast with us!”
Before I go further, I should introduce Didi Contractor. She is an 80-year-old American woman who has been here in India for a long time. (Since before toilet paper came on rolls, she says.) She is an architect of mud houses and is Anya's landlady. Despite being eighty, she is still an active woman and still designs and works on houses. The Stuti I have mentioned before is apprenticed to her. She designed and owns Didipur, the cluster of mud houses where Anya lives.
In any case, I accepted and hopped into her car. We drove nearly all the way up the mountain, much farther than I had ever gone before, to a small temple where the feast was being held. The occasion, as I understand it, is that it's the ninth night of a holiday here where they put on nightly plays of the Ramayana, a great epic. Everyone in Rakkar is welcome to come, and anyone who passed by the temple, including a bus full of people, were stopped and invited to partake.
Long mats were set out in front of the temple on the grass where people sat and were served. First, plates made of large leaves were distributed. Then, a man went around with a large basket of hot rice. Following that, three yellow curries were poured over the rice in succession by other men. The time interval between each food was, it seems, long enough for you to finish eating the previous one. I, however, am not so skilled at eating rice and curry with only my fingers, so I was never quite ready for the next dish.
After the three curries came more rice and three dishes in a brownish sauce. I'm not sure exactly what they were, but it was all delicious. Following those three, an orange rice dessert with dried fruit and bits of cocoanut in it wrapped up the feast. I was the last to finish. I should say that it's amazing how much easier it is to eat hot food with a spoon or fork. Your mouth can handle hotter temperatures than your fingertips can.
All the while, there were two little boys hauling around pitchers of water (which I did not drink as it was obviously neither filtered or boiled) enthusiastically pouring it out for whoever needed more. Once our group was done eating, they pulled up the long mats, swept them off, laid them back down, and ushered in another group of people to eat. Everyone put their leaves away (to be burned or washed, I'm not sure), then used whatever water they had left to wash off their hands. The turmeric in the curries still left yellow stains on my fingers though. “That way everyone will know you have been to the feast,” Didi's friend told me.
That far up the mountain, it was like we were in a cloud with haze hanging everywhere. Even while we ate, a light drizzle fell, but no one seemed to mind. It was hot enough that the cool rain was appreciated.
Life is a lot more interesting, I find, if you leap into invitations. There are so many things I have seen and done even in this month so far if I had stuck to my own plans and declined invites. I wouldn't advice to leap without looking, but it is certainly more fun to go at life here with an adventurous and open spirit.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
Settling into a Routine
Now that I am well into my second week of classes, I can finally talk about some kind of routine. I teach my English classes on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. This alternates with a computer class for the same group of students on Tuesdays, Fridays, and Sundays. Thursday is always a day off for Jagori staff, as are every other Wednesday, but I teach on those days as well.
On the days that I teach, I get up around 8:45 in the morning, have breakfast, clean up, and orient myself for the day. The Knowledge Center opens up at 10:00, so I head down around then and set up for my class. If I don't have much set up to do, I check my email on the one computer that has internet connection there. My morning class runs from 11:00 to noon and has somewhere around six students. After class, I head home to make some lunch, then come back for the afternoon. My evening class is from 4:00-5:00pm and seems to have slightly more students than my morning class. After that is over, I clean up and go home.
On my days off, I have to do lesson planning, and that frequently requires trips down to Sidhbari to make some printouts and copies for my class.
My duties also include making the Jagori Grameen web site. Now that I have met with Abha, Anup, and Anya on it, I have much more to do. We're aiming to have it up by the end of October at the latest, so I suspect that's how I will use my time between classes from now until then.
As to eating, the meal schedule here is later than I am used to back in the US. Lunch happens between 1:00 and 2:00 usually, and dinner sometime after 7:00. This was a little hard to get used to at first, but it's something I'm adjusting into. Now that the Knowledge Center has been moved down close to my house, and it's usually just Vandana and I there, we don't hold so strictly to the lunch traditions.
However, up at the office, everyone makes their lunch before work in the morning and brings it with them. Then, when enough people feel that it's time for a break, they all gather together and eat. One thing to note is that everyone shares. You pass around your food and everyone takes a little bit, so that by the time all the food has gone around, you have about two or three bites of everyone's lunch. If someone didn't bring any food, the others gather up enough for them to eat. Thus, when I was spending time up at the office before the Knowledge Center moved, I couldn't just bring a peanut butter sandwich for myself. I had to make something that I could share.
On the days that I teach, I get up around 8:45 in the morning, have breakfast, clean up, and orient myself for the day. The Knowledge Center opens up at 10:00, so I head down around then and set up for my class. If I don't have much set up to do, I check my email on the one computer that has internet connection there. My morning class runs from 11:00 to noon and has somewhere around six students. After class, I head home to make some lunch, then come back for the afternoon. My evening class is from 4:00-5:00pm and seems to have slightly more students than my morning class. After that is over, I clean up and go home.
On my days off, I have to do lesson planning, and that frequently requires trips down to Sidhbari to make some printouts and copies for my class.
My duties also include making the Jagori Grameen web site. Now that I have met with Abha, Anup, and Anya on it, I have much more to do. We're aiming to have it up by the end of October at the latest, so I suspect that's how I will use my time between classes from now until then.
As to eating, the meal schedule here is later than I am used to back in the US. Lunch happens between 1:00 and 2:00 usually, and dinner sometime after 7:00. This was a little hard to get used to at first, but it's something I'm adjusting into. Now that the Knowledge Center has been moved down close to my house, and it's usually just Vandana and I there, we don't hold so strictly to the lunch traditions.
However, up at the office, everyone makes their lunch before work in the morning and brings it with them. Then, when enough people feel that it's time for a break, they all gather together and eat. One thing to note is that everyone shares. You pass around your food and everyone takes a little bit, so that by the time all the food has gone around, you have about two or three bites of everyone's lunch. If someone didn't bring any food, the others gather up enough for them to eat. Thus, when I was spending time up at the office before the Knowledge Center moved, I couldn't just bring a peanut butter sandwich for myself. I had to make something that I could share.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Tidbits
I've been here a month now. Lots of little things happen around me that make me smile, but they aren't worth a whole entry on their own. So, here is a collection of tidbits.
My landlady, Doctor Kusum, is one of the most sweet and caring people I have ever met. She has a pretty sizable garden that ranges all around the house, and she frequently brings up the fruits of her garden or little things she has cooked to share with Vandana and I. Through this, I have learned to took Indian corn (this stuff is tougher than American corn), how to eat a pomegranate, and how delicious Indian bananas are (they're little but packed with way more flavor than any banana I have ever had in the USA). Because she goes to the Nishta clinic at 9:00 every morning and Jagori doesn't open until 10:00, she has discovered if she wants to talk to me, it has to be in the morning, and it usually involves waking me up.
This morning, in fact, I was having a vivid dream of looking for a recipe for pumpkin pie from scratch, since this is my favorite food and we are nearing that season. I dreamed I was paging through old cookbooks in a desperate search, when I heard Dr. Kusum's voice. Staggering out of bed and unlocking my screen door, I saw her standing there with a quarter of a pumpkin for me. Still a little delirious from sleep, I stared at it in my hands and thought, “Pie.” It looks like I will need to find this recipe and make use of Anya's toaster oven some time soon.
On another occasion, because I had accidentally tripped on a cord and pulled a socket out of the wall, Dr. Kusum was trying to get an electrician to come to look at it while I was at home. After several tries, she eventually had him come early and wake me up to check on it. It had been hot that night, so I was sleeping on pajama shorts and a tank top. I never even go to my bathroom dressed in that, since my neighbors have a good view of my porch. As I stood there in my shorts while he pushed the socket back into the wall, I felt totally scandalized. It's funny what only one month in a country can do to your sense of modesty.
There is another new foreign arrival at Jagori. Roni, an Israeli girl who has been studying at Dartmouth in the US, has just arrived to do some volunteering and research here during her off semester. Having someone to show around really makes me realize how much I have learned about the area in the last month and how much my confidence has grown. There are still lots of things I don't know, but I can survive now without clinging to anyone else.
One time, when I was riding the bus back from Dharmshala, we passed a small fabric store that was full of Tibetan Buddhist monks. Here, they wear a sort of burgundy robe and have a sunny yellow shirt underneath. As I wondered what a bunch of monks was doing in a fabric shop, I noticed a length of sunny yellow cotton laid out on the counter. It does make sense that everyone, even the monks, buy their own fabric and get clothing tailored.
There is this particular bridge between Sidhbari and Dharmshala that cows really like to congregate on at night. While I haven't seen them there during the day, every single evening that I have come back from Dharmshala after having dinner out or shopping, there are a cluster of three to five cows all sleeping on half of the bridge. It makes a bit of a traffic bottle-neck.
Two nights ago, I went up to McLeod Ganj with Anya, Vandana, Stuti, and Roni for dinner. I have found that most times I go up there, I wind up meeting friends of friends who we didn't come with, but wind up having dinner or dessert with. This time, we met two Swedish girls who Anya had met last weekend at a workshop. In turn, their Tibetan-German friend came along. Then, a friend of Vandana's joined us. Our party of five become nine. This particular restaurant was great. I especially appreciated the large notice at the bottom of the menu saying, “All of our water is boiled in a pressure cooker.” It made me feel brave enough to have chicken. Granted, when the food came, the vegetarian platter looked better than mine. You really can't beat paneer (Indian cottage cheese), even with meat.
On our way back down, we encountered a whole flock of sheep going down the road, driven by their shepherd. It was really a sight to see. Even in Dharmshala, there are reminders that we really are in a rural area.
Anya and I just found a Hindi tutor as well, and met her yesterday. She is very sharp but very sweet too and fell into step the moment we said, “shall we begin?” even though she has never tutored before. I have daily assignments already to do until we meet again on Sunday.
This past Sunday, I did find a church. It was my first adventure of going some place I had never been before by bus, alone. To get there, you have to take buses all the way up to McLeod Ganj, and then walk back down the mountain a little ways, since its right in between two stops. The whole ordeal took me about an hour and a half. Not knowing when the service was, I arrived right around 9:00. It turns out, the church didn't open up until 10:00.
It is an old Gothic style church from the time of colonialism called “The Church of St. John in the Wilderness.” There are two stained glass windows at the front, but the rest are glass. Surrounding it on the mountain side is a sprawling cemetery.
As to the service, I was unimpressed. The pastor lead the songs by leafing through a folder that was handed out to everyone, and seemingly picking hymns at random. He had trouble staying in just one key, but it was good to be singing hymns again. I stubbornly stayed in the key he started in, and I guess I sung loud enough to convince others to as well. There were about 20 or 30 people there. The sermon was given by a guest speaker, and I found it rather centered around her. She kept pitching her new TV station amid more spiritual comments.
While the music and the sermon didn't impress me, what really turned me off was the feeling of community—or lack thereof. It struck me as a church for people passing through. Tourists would come and go. People came with who they came with, didn't talk to anyone else, and then left with the same people. It really lacked warmth. So, I'm going to keep looking for a church I can settle in. Maybe I'll go back to see what it's like when that woman isn't preaching.
I have also been teaching English classes since last Monday. Up until today, I was constantly getting new students and loosing old ones, but I think it's finally evening out at about 6 or 7 students per class. (I teach one in the morning and one in the afternoon.) I have bad lessons and good lessons, but I think I am getting the hang of things. I have a wide range of ages and skills, though they all do know some English from school. There are two boys who must be around 13 years old and a pair of older married women.
Anya's neighbor Maya has a dog named Ginger. Ginger is very enthusiastic and self confident. Yesterday, while I was at Anya's, Maya left Ginger with us while she snuck off to town so that the dog wouldn't follow her. When we deemed it safe, we let Ginger back out. However, as I went home, I met Ginger on the long driveway to the street and she followed me all the way home. I called Anya, and we agreed to meet half way to trade off the dog, since she was causing trouble and jumping all over Dr. Kusum. I dragged her by the collar about a quarter of the way to Anya's where she lay down on the street and rolled onto her back. The instant I let go of her collar to rub her belly, she jumped up and went back up the road again. By the time I caught her again, Anya got to me as well. Relieved, I passed the mischievous dog off. Ginger must have though we were playing a great game of chase.
My landlady, Doctor Kusum, is one of the most sweet and caring people I have ever met. She has a pretty sizable garden that ranges all around the house, and she frequently brings up the fruits of her garden or little things she has cooked to share with Vandana and I. Through this, I have learned to took Indian corn (this stuff is tougher than American corn), how to eat a pomegranate, and how delicious Indian bananas are (they're little but packed with way more flavor than any banana I have ever had in the USA). Because she goes to the Nishta clinic at 9:00 every morning and Jagori doesn't open until 10:00, she has discovered if she wants to talk to me, it has to be in the morning, and it usually involves waking me up.
This morning, in fact, I was having a vivid dream of looking for a recipe for pumpkin pie from scratch, since this is my favorite food and we are nearing that season. I dreamed I was paging through old cookbooks in a desperate search, when I heard Dr. Kusum's voice. Staggering out of bed and unlocking my screen door, I saw her standing there with a quarter of a pumpkin for me. Still a little delirious from sleep, I stared at it in my hands and thought, “Pie.” It looks like I will need to find this recipe and make use of Anya's toaster oven some time soon.
On another occasion, because I had accidentally tripped on a cord and pulled a socket out of the wall, Dr. Kusum was trying to get an electrician to come to look at it while I was at home. After several tries, she eventually had him come early and wake me up to check on it. It had been hot that night, so I was sleeping on pajama shorts and a tank top. I never even go to my bathroom dressed in that, since my neighbors have a good view of my porch. As I stood there in my shorts while he pushed the socket back into the wall, I felt totally scandalized. It's funny what only one month in a country can do to your sense of modesty.
There is another new foreign arrival at Jagori. Roni, an Israeli girl who has been studying at Dartmouth in the US, has just arrived to do some volunteering and research here during her off semester. Having someone to show around really makes me realize how much I have learned about the area in the last month and how much my confidence has grown. There are still lots of things I don't know, but I can survive now without clinging to anyone else.
One time, when I was riding the bus back from Dharmshala, we passed a small fabric store that was full of Tibetan Buddhist monks. Here, they wear a sort of burgundy robe and have a sunny yellow shirt underneath. As I wondered what a bunch of monks was doing in a fabric shop, I noticed a length of sunny yellow cotton laid out on the counter. It does make sense that everyone, even the monks, buy their own fabric and get clothing tailored.
There is this particular bridge between Sidhbari and Dharmshala that cows really like to congregate on at night. While I haven't seen them there during the day, every single evening that I have come back from Dharmshala after having dinner out or shopping, there are a cluster of three to five cows all sleeping on half of the bridge. It makes a bit of a traffic bottle-neck.
Two nights ago, I went up to McLeod Ganj with Anya, Vandana, Stuti, and Roni for dinner. I have found that most times I go up there, I wind up meeting friends of friends who we didn't come with, but wind up having dinner or dessert with. This time, we met two Swedish girls who Anya had met last weekend at a workshop. In turn, their Tibetan-German friend came along. Then, a friend of Vandana's joined us. Our party of five become nine. This particular restaurant was great. I especially appreciated the large notice at the bottom of the menu saying, “All of our water is boiled in a pressure cooker.” It made me feel brave enough to have chicken. Granted, when the food came, the vegetarian platter looked better than mine. You really can't beat paneer (Indian cottage cheese), even with meat.
On our way back down, we encountered a whole flock of sheep going down the road, driven by their shepherd. It was really a sight to see. Even in Dharmshala, there are reminders that we really are in a rural area.
Anya and I just found a Hindi tutor as well, and met her yesterday. She is very sharp but very sweet too and fell into step the moment we said, “shall we begin?” even though she has never tutored before. I have daily assignments already to do until we meet again on Sunday.
This past Sunday, I did find a church. It was my first adventure of going some place I had never been before by bus, alone. To get there, you have to take buses all the way up to McLeod Ganj, and then walk back down the mountain a little ways, since its right in between two stops. The whole ordeal took me about an hour and a half. Not knowing when the service was, I arrived right around 9:00. It turns out, the church didn't open up until 10:00.
It is an old Gothic style church from the time of colonialism called “The Church of St. John in the Wilderness.” There are two stained glass windows at the front, but the rest are glass. Surrounding it on the mountain side is a sprawling cemetery.
As to the service, I was unimpressed. The pastor lead the songs by leafing through a folder that was handed out to everyone, and seemingly picking hymns at random. He had trouble staying in just one key, but it was good to be singing hymns again. I stubbornly stayed in the key he started in, and I guess I sung loud enough to convince others to as well. There were about 20 or 30 people there. The sermon was given by a guest speaker, and I found it rather centered around her. She kept pitching her new TV station amid more spiritual comments.
While the music and the sermon didn't impress me, what really turned me off was the feeling of community—or lack thereof. It struck me as a church for people passing through. Tourists would come and go. People came with who they came with, didn't talk to anyone else, and then left with the same people. It really lacked warmth. So, I'm going to keep looking for a church I can settle in. Maybe I'll go back to see what it's like when that woman isn't preaching.
I have also been teaching English classes since last Monday. Up until today, I was constantly getting new students and loosing old ones, but I think it's finally evening out at about 6 or 7 students per class. (I teach one in the morning and one in the afternoon.) I have bad lessons and good lessons, but I think I am getting the hang of things. I have a wide range of ages and skills, though they all do know some English from school. There are two boys who must be around 13 years old and a pair of older married women.
Anya's neighbor Maya has a dog named Ginger. Ginger is very enthusiastic and self confident. Yesterday, while I was at Anya's, Maya left Ginger with us while she snuck off to town so that the dog wouldn't follow her. When we deemed it safe, we let Ginger back out. However, as I went home, I met Ginger on the long driveway to the street and she followed me all the way home. I called Anya, and we agreed to meet half way to trade off the dog, since she was causing trouble and jumping all over Dr. Kusum. I dragged her by the collar about a quarter of the way to Anya's where she lay down on the street and rolled onto her back. The instant I let go of her collar to rub her belly, she jumped up and went back up the road again. By the time I caught her again, Anya got to me as well. Relieved, I passed the mischievous dog off. Ginger must have though we were playing a great game of chase.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Shopping
Shopping around here is also a different experience from I’ve ever had at home. First off, there are clothes. I’ve been told that in the cities, most people buy pre-made clothes, whereas out here in the countryside, people mostly get things tailored (or make their own clothes). That involves buying fabric, going to a tailor, getting measurements taken, specifying what style you want everything in, and coming back some time later to pay for it and pick it up. So far, I have three salwar kameez suits done and two at the tailor’s. My first suit took about one week to finish, the last two I have in are estimated at four weeks. It really depends on how busy the tailor is, how many assistants he has, and, in the case of my most recent suit, how healthy the tailor is. It took at least two weeks longer than this tailor originally appraised, because he got very sick and couldn’t sew for a week or so. Getting things tailored requires more patience, but they fit better and you can customize them all you like.
One thing I am really enjoying is the personal touches that different tailors put into the clothing. One point of note is around the cuffs of the pants, the salwar. The cuff is reinforced with stiff interfacing and is about one inch wide. Rather than just stitching the interfacing in and being done with it, every tailor does several rows of machine stitches around the cuff in a sort of decorative pattern. I will take some pictures when I get a chance. Some tailors make the patterns more intricate than others.
It is tough, as someone who sews, when I get a suit back and there are parts of it that I look at and say to myself, “I could have done that better.” What that means, in the long run, is that I’m bound to be really picky with tailors, and always pick the ones that cost a little more and take a little longer. Maybe someone will teach me to stitch my own suits by the time I leave here.
Shopping for food and other supplies is fun too. Most stores here are what we would call “garage stores.” They are made in flat-roofed cement buildings with metal garage doors over the front that are slid up when the store is open. In Rakkar and Sidhbari, these garages are usually not big enough even to hold a car. Each little store has its own selection of things, so you have to know which store has the things you need. Produce stands change their wares as new things come in season or go out of stock. Food is fresh and delicious. There are two food stores practically out my front door, so if I need an extra potato as I’m making dinner, it’s easy to run out for another.
When you buy produce, rice, spices, beans, flour, and the like, shopkeepers weigh what you want on a scale, and charge you based on weight. One time, when buying two tiny heads of garlic, they shop keeper gave them to me for free, since they were worth less than a rupee. Another time, when I tried to buy four little eggplants, they didn’t weigh enough to be a good round price, so this vegetable seller added another one to my bag.
Some shop keepers are very friendly. For example, when I went to buy dictionaries, a notebook, and a few folders from a stationary shop, the shop keeper introduced himself as having visited the United States and wanted to know all about Anya and I. While I perused different dictionaries, he even offered us tea, which we declined. When we finally checked out, he threw in a couple of pens for free for me and a little note pad for Anya.
Other times, you really have to haggle to get a good price. As a foreigner, people will tend to ask you for the full price on something, which is higher than the normal price. By asking for a ‘discount’ they will bring the price down. Some places are harder to haggle at. Anya has told me of how she will sometimes spend ten or fifteen minutes in a store chatting with the shopkeeper, trying to bring the price down. I, however, haven’t gotten the guts to haggle quite so intensely yet.
Although unrelated, I feel that I should mention a major victory for myself. For lunch today, I cooked Indian food from scratch for myself for the first time. And it was delicious! It took about an hour, but it was definitely worth it.
One thing I am really enjoying is the personal touches that different tailors put into the clothing. One point of note is around the cuffs of the pants, the salwar. The cuff is reinforced with stiff interfacing and is about one inch wide. Rather than just stitching the interfacing in and being done with it, every tailor does several rows of machine stitches around the cuff in a sort of decorative pattern. I will take some pictures when I get a chance. Some tailors make the patterns more intricate than others.
It is tough, as someone who sews, when I get a suit back and there are parts of it that I look at and say to myself, “I could have done that better.” What that means, in the long run, is that I’m bound to be really picky with tailors, and always pick the ones that cost a little more and take a little longer. Maybe someone will teach me to stitch my own suits by the time I leave here.
Shopping for food and other supplies is fun too. Most stores here are what we would call “garage stores.” They are made in flat-roofed cement buildings with metal garage doors over the front that are slid up when the store is open. In Rakkar and Sidhbari, these garages are usually not big enough even to hold a car. Each little store has its own selection of things, so you have to know which store has the things you need. Produce stands change their wares as new things come in season or go out of stock. Food is fresh and delicious. There are two food stores practically out my front door, so if I need an extra potato as I’m making dinner, it’s easy to run out for another.
When you buy produce, rice, spices, beans, flour, and the like, shopkeepers weigh what you want on a scale, and charge you based on weight. One time, when buying two tiny heads of garlic, they shop keeper gave them to me for free, since they were worth less than a rupee. Another time, when I tried to buy four little eggplants, they didn’t weigh enough to be a good round price, so this vegetable seller added another one to my bag.
Some shop keepers are very friendly. For example, when I went to buy dictionaries, a notebook, and a few folders from a stationary shop, the shop keeper introduced himself as having visited the United States and wanted to know all about Anya and I. While I perused different dictionaries, he even offered us tea, which we declined. When we finally checked out, he threw in a couple of pens for free for me and a little note pad for Anya.
Other times, you really have to haggle to get a good price. As a foreigner, people will tend to ask you for the full price on something, which is higher than the normal price. By asking for a ‘discount’ they will bring the price down. Some places are harder to haggle at. Anya has told me of how she will sometimes spend ten or fifteen minutes in a store chatting with the shopkeeper, trying to bring the price down. I, however, haven’t gotten the guts to haggle quite so intensely yet.
Although unrelated, I feel that I should mention a major victory for myself. For lunch today, I cooked Indian food from scratch for myself for the first time. And it was delicious! It took about an hour, but it was definitely worth it.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Wildlife
An important part of the experience here is the wildlife. The first thing I noticed in Rakkar were the dogs. Wild dogs wander the streets freely, scavenging for discarded food. The average Indian dog is built like lab, but somewhat smaller. Their tails curl over on top and their ears are half way in between sticking up like a cattle dog and flopping over like a lab. They come in all sorts of colors and coats. Some people do own dogs, however. While you wouldn't want to pet a dog on the street, I have gotten my dog fix from two dogs owned by Anya's neighbors, Ginger and Boey. Because there have been problems with rabid dogs in the not so distant past, most people here are afraid of all dogs. (Don't worry, I'm vaccinated.)
Last week, when I tagging along with Anya to observe her English class at the Shapur Knowledge Center, we found an abandoned puppy in the gutter at our bus transfer in Dharmshala. Its eyes weren't even open yet, and it lay there shivering and whimpering. Anya took some paper, pulled it out of the gutter, and set it on some rags in a corner of the bus stop to dry off. It was a pretty fat little dog, so we assumed it had just lost its mother that morning and hoped that she would come back to find it soon. We stopped back to check on it on the way home that evening and it was gone. Hopefully it's safely back with its mother now. Otherwise, we were planning to take back with us to find a home for it in Rakkar.
The next thing I noticed were the snails. Snails here are nocturnal, but they get everywhere at night, gathering in clumps around whatever they find delicious and slithering slowly up and down the roads. There are no street lights around here and my flashlight can only illuminate so much, so I accidentally step on at least two every night when I come home from visiting Anya or her neighbors. The crunching sound that comes with stepping on a snail really makes you regret what you've just done. It's pretty terrible.
As to monkeys, there aren't any in Rakkar or Sidhbari. While there are plenty further up the mountain in places like Dharmshala and McLeod Ganj, dogs firmly hold the place of scavengers around here. Frankly, I'm glad we have dogs rather than monkeys. They're much less mischievous. I've heard stories of monkeys entering people's houses and helping themselves to the refrigerator or even stealing your shopping bag right out of your hands.
Cats are few and far between. Indians believe that all cats, not just black ones, are unlucky, so few are kept as pets. There is a pretty sandy colored one with a striped tail that hangs out around my house and the neighboring houses though.
Included in the local fauna are also smallish lizards, snakes (though I have yet to see one), and spiders. The spiders here can get leg spans the size of the palm of your hand, but the largest ones I have found in my house are about the size of a fifty cent piece. They don't bother me and I don't bother them.
I finally have a straight answer to the question, “what exactly are you doing over there?” Today, I began to teach my first English class. This is a ten week course that alternates days with a computer class here at the Rakkar Knowledge Center. Since there aren't any text books here or set courses, I had to come up with a full class plan from scratch myself, which is what I have been doing for the last two weeks.
It is also my responsibility to make (and I assume, updated) the Jagori Grameen web site. Anya and another American girl who was here earlier started working on one, but it was far from finished. So far, I have taken the existing layout, and tweaked it to make it easier to navigate and more colorful. I am awaiting orders on what specifically to do next. There is also talk of me making a separate web site for TARA Center, where Jagori hosts workshops. I'm sure that will come when the Jagori Grameen site is up and running.
With my free time, I have been doing my best to adjust to life here. Lately, almost every night I have had an invite to someone's house for dinner, a movie, or both. I have started to take notes as I watch and help others cook. That way, soon, I'll be able to cook respectable India food myself. Most nights I'm not and someone's house, I find myself taking a trip of to Dharmshala or McLeod Ganj for dinner or shopping. My social life here is surprisingly active. During my time to myself, I have been mostly reading and writing. It's enough to keep me content.
Yesterday, at the birthday party of one of Anya's neighbors, Maya, I finally met Sister Celia. She is the principal of a local school and Catholic nun. She invited me to come see the convent some time this week and come to one of the daily Mass services. I'm not sure who has been gossiping to who, but as always, my reputation as a singer proceeds me. It seems that every new person I meet says, “And I hear you are an excellent singer.” This was no exception. Sister Celia commented that her school needs a music teacher and that I could teach her students a singing class. Having missed all of the singing basics by joining choir only in my senior year of high school, I politely declined. Then Didi, Maya's mother, said that I should go to the protestant church up in McLeod Ganj, as they need lots of help with their music. We'll see what I get sucked into. I do love singing and sharing that with others.
Last week, when I tagging along with Anya to observe her English class at the Shapur Knowledge Center, we found an abandoned puppy in the gutter at our bus transfer in Dharmshala. Its eyes weren't even open yet, and it lay there shivering and whimpering. Anya took some paper, pulled it out of the gutter, and set it on some rags in a corner of the bus stop to dry off. It was a pretty fat little dog, so we assumed it had just lost its mother that morning and hoped that she would come back to find it soon. We stopped back to check on it on the way home that evening and it was gone. Hopefully it's safely back with its mother now. Otherwise, we were planning to take back with us to find a home for it in Rakkar.
The next thing I noticed were the snails. Snails here are nocturnal, but they get everywhere at night, gathering in clumps around whatever they find delicious and slithering slowly up and down the roads. There are no street lights around here and my flashlight can only illuminate so much, so I accidentally step on at least two every night when I come home from visiting Anya or her neighbors. The crunching sound that comes with stepping on a snail really makes you regret what you've just done. It's pretty terrible.
As to monkeys, there aren't any in Rakkar or Sidhbari. While there are plenty further up the mountain in places like Dharmshala and McLeod Ganj, dogs firmly hold the place of scavengers around here. Frankly, I'm glad we have dogs rather than monkeys. They're much less mischievous. I've heard stories of monkeys entering people's houses and helping themselves to the refrigerator or even stealing your shopping bag right out of your hands.
Cats are few and far between. Indians believe that all cats, not just black ones, are unlucky, so few are kept as pets. There is a pretty sandy colored one with a striped tail that hangs out around my house and the neighboring houses though.
Included in the local fauna are also smallish lizards, snakes (though I have yet to see one), and spiders. The spiders here can get leg spans the size of the palm of your hand, but the largest ones I have found in my house are about the size of a fifty cent piece. They don't bother me and I don't bother them.
I finally have a straight answer to the question, “what exactly are you doing over there?” Today, I began to teach my first English class. This is a ten week course that alternates days with a computer class here at the Rakkar Knowledge Center. Since there aren't any text books here or set courses, I had to come up with a full class plan from scratch myself, which is what I have been doing for the last two weeks.
It is also my responsibility to make (and I assume, updated) the Jagori Grameen web site. Anya and another American girl who was here earlier started working on one, but it was far from finished. So far, I have taken the existing layout, and tweaked it to make it easier to navigate and more colorful. I am awaiting orders on what specifically to do next. There is also talk of me making a separate web site for TARA Center, where Jagori hosts workshops. I'm sure that will come when the Jagori Grameen site is up and running.
With my free time, I have been doing my best to adjust to life here. Lately, almost every night I have had an invite to someone's house for dinner, a movie, or both. I have started to take notes as I watch and help others cook. That way, soon, I'll be able to cook respectable India food myself. Most nights I'm not and someone's house, I find myself taking a trip of to Dharmshala or McLeod Ganj for dinner or shopping. My social life here is surprisingly active. During my time to myself, I have been mostly reading and writing. It's enough to keep me content.
Yesterday, at the birthday party of one of Anya's neighbors, Maya, I finally met Sister Celia. She is the principal of a local school and Catholic nun. She invited me to come see the convent some time this week and come to one of the daily Mass services. I'm not sure who has been gossiping to who, but as always, my reputation as a singer proceeds me. It seems that every new person I meet says, “And I hear you are an excellent singer.” This was no exception. Sister Celia commented that her school needs a music teacher and that I could teach her students a singing class. Having missed all of the singing basics by joining choir only in my senior year of high school, I politely declined. Then Didi, Maya's mother, said that I should go to the protestant church up in McLeod Ganj, as they need lots of help with their music. We'll see what I get sucked into. I do love singing and sharing that with others.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Comforts & Adventures
While it is true that I'm living in a rural village in Northern India, it is not without its comforts. First and foremost: Skippy Super Chunk peanut butter. There's really something wonderful about having the peanut butter you grew up on, especially for all of the peanut butter toast and sandwiches I make. Vandana likes to make fun of me for how excited I get about it.
Secondly, I now have a small fridge. It's bigger than anything they would allow in an Oberlin dorm room, but isn't anywhere close to full size. It's surprising how much we rely on refrigerators for our food needs. I didn't quite realize it until I was without one. This is the official Shansi fridge now, so it will get passed down to other fellows that come after me. I'm sure there will be a lot of other stuff like that too, but since Anya and I are the first two fellows here, it's hard to say exactly what else.
And then there's toilet paper. While I am starting to get the hang of the water method, it's nice to have a few rolls at home.
All this, and other good and familiar foods, is made possible by Dharmshala and McLeod Ganj, two bigger cities up the mountain to the west of Rakkar. McLeod Ganj in particular is a mecca for hippies and foreign tourists, so the stores up there sell all sorts of imported goods. It is still hard, though, to find any kind of dark chocolate. Indian's don't like it, so the most frequently found chocolate is Cadbury.
As far as internet goes, it takes some effort to come by. I don't have any at home so I have to go looking for it, but there are options. First, there is one internet connection at the Jagori Knowledge Center. You plug in a cell phone with a USB cord and get relatively slow internet that way. That one phone is passed around to whoever needs it during the day. Secondly, the other NGO in Rakkar, right up the road from Jagori, has a computer lab with relatively slow but reliable internet. It's wireless, so I could take my laptop up and surf from the comfort of my own computer. Next, there is a tiny internet cafe down in Sidhbari. It costs a bit, so it's a last resort. Then, two of Anya's neighbors have wireless internet. One is out of town right now and graciously allowed Anya use of his internet while he was gone for the summer, and she has invited me to come along sometimes. Her other neighbor Bryan is almost always around, but he is alright letting people come over and use his internet sometimes. These two neighbors have the fastest connections around, but they frequently go in and out.
This past Tuesday was the not-so-annual Jagori picnic/retreat. In preparation, everyone was assigned to bring along some kind of food. The Knowledge Center team (that includes Anya, Vandana, and I) was assigned to make puris. A puri is a deep fried flat bread. I had learned how to make a basic flat bread before, but frying it was a new experience. The three of us made the dough the night before (wheat flour and water needed together) and then got up early the next morning to roll them out and fry them. Somehow in the process, I manged to dip two of my fingers into the boiling oil as I flipped a puri. Thankfully, I live above a doctor who loves to garden. I was able to keep aloe on the burns and, though painful for a while, it kept them from blistering at all. That plant really works wonders.
The whole staff piled into four taxi vans (putting more people into one vehicle than I thought possible at first sight), and headed East across the valley and up into the mountains. Our car remained entertaining as most of the women sang enthusiastically at the top of their lungs all the way there. By the end of the day, I was able to sing along with a few of their songs.
We took a few stops along the way to our final destination. First was at a small village where there was a small art gallery done by a famous Sikh artist. Following that we walked down to a temple along the river, nick-named 'The Fish Temple,' because the stretch of river behind the temple was the only area that fish gathered. We threw some food to the fish, and then moved on.
Next, we stopped at another temple to a goddess (I'm not sure which) high in the mountains. This one was built into a cave. There were two entrances. One, which most people took, was a little like spelunking. You had to climb up through a tunnel in the rock, crawl on your hands and knees, and even wriggle on your stomach to get into the sanctuary. I turned around at the point where I had to crawl through a puddle in my brand new white salwar kamiz. Then someone pointed out a slanted metal staircase that led up the other way. I took that instead. The inside of the cave was decorated with all sorts of trappings and smelled of incense. It definitely isn't what I expected when they said we were heading for a temple.
Our final destination was Asha Puri Devi, a temple to another goddess on the top of a mountain. This particular one was carved of stone and seemed really old. The few from it was spectacular. After everyone visited the temple, we spread out some reed mats and had our picnic in its shade. There was so much food passed around, everyone was stuffed by the end and there were still left-overs.
Afterward, Abha had everyone sing the welcome song to me and the other new person. Immediately following that, Abha announced that she heard I was a good singer and should sing a song for them right then. I sung the first thing I could think of, 'La Promessa', one of my favorites from my recital last semester. After I was done, various other people were called on to sing and dance in the circle. It really was a lot of fun.
On the way home there was more singing too. Anya and I led some of the others in a few English songs as well. We made a number of stops (many of them for reasons I wasn't sure of), but the last one they called a 'chai break.' Even so, I was surprised when, as we all sat by the side of the road, someone came around with cups of chai. I'm not sure where they found boiled water and milk to make it. As we sipped our tea, Anya and I were sitting on either side of Vandu (another one of the three Vandanas on my team) who decided to paint our nails while we waited. Now, my finger nails are light pink. I think it's been since middle school at least since I had my finger nails painted.
Secondly, I now have a small fridge. It's bigger than anything they would allow in an Oberlin dorm room, but isn't anywhere close to full size. It's surprising how much we rely on refrigerators for our food needs. I didn't quite realize it until I was without one. This is the official Shansi fridge now, so it will get passed down to other fellows that come after me. I'm sure there will be a lot of other stuff like that too, but since Anya and I are the first two fellows here, it's hard to say exactly what else.
And then there's toilet paper. While I am starting to get the hang of the water method, it's nice to have a few rolls at home.
All this, and other good and familiar foods, is made possible by Dharmshala and McLeod Ganj, two bigger cities up the mountain to the west of Rakkar. McLeod Ganj in particular is a mecca for hippies and foreign tourists, so the stores up there sell all sorts of imported goods. It is still hard, though, to find any kind of dark chocolate. Indian's don't like it, so the most frequently found chocolate is Cadbury.
As far as internet goes, it takes some effort to come by. I don't have any at home so I have to go looking for it, but there are options. First, there is one internet connection at the Jagori Knowledge Center. You plug in a cell phone with a USB cord and get relatively slow internet that way. That one phone is passed around to whoever needs it during the day. Secondly, the other NGO in Rakkar, right up the road from Jagori, has a computer lab with relatively slow but reliable internet. It's wireless, so I could take my laptop up and surf from the comfort of my own computer. Next, there is a tiny internet cafe down in Sidhbari. It costs a bit, so it's a last resort. Then, two of Anya's neighbors have wireless internet. One is out of town right now and graciously allowed Anya use of his internet while he was gone for the summer, and she has invited me to come along sometimes. Her other neighbor Bryan is almost always around, but he is alright letting people come over and use his internet sometimes. These two neighbors have the fastest connections around, but they frequently go in and out.
This past Tuesday was the not-so-annual Jagori picnic/retreat. In preparation, everyone was assigned to bring along some kind of food. The Knowledge Center team (that includes Anya, Vandana, and I) was assigned to make puris. A puri is a deep fried flat bread. I had learned how to make a basic flat bread before, but frying it was a new experience. The three of us made the dough the night before (wheat flour and water needed together) and then got up early the next morning to roll them out and fry them. Somehow in the process, I manged to dip two of my fingers into the boiling oil as I flipped a puri. Thankfully, I live above a doctor who loves to garden. I was able to keep aloe on the burns and, though painful for a while, it kept them from blistering at all. That plant really works wonders.
The whole staff piled into four taxi vans (putting more people into one vehicle than I thought possible at first sight), and headed East across the valley and up into the mountains. Our car remained entertaining as most of the women sang enthusiastically at the top of their lungs all the way there. By the end of the day, I was able to sing along with a few of their songs.
We took a few stops along the way to our final destination. First was at a small village where there was a small art gallery done by a famous Sikh artist. Following that we walked down to a temple along the river, nick-named 'The Fish Temple,' because the stretch of river behind the temple was the only area that fish gathered. We threw some food to the fish, and then moved on.
Next, we stopped at another temple to a goddess (I'm not sure which) high in the mountains. This one was built into a cave. There were two entrances. One, which most people took, was a little like spelunking. You had to climb up through a tunnel in the rock, crawl on your hands and knees, and even wriggle on your stomach to get into the sanctuary. I turned around at the point where I had to crawl through a puddle in my brand new white salwar kamiz. Then someone pointed out a slanted metal staircase that led up the other way. I took that instead. The inside of the cave was decorated with all sorts of trappings and smelled of incense. It definitely isn't what I expected when they said we were heading for a temple.
Our final destination was Asha Puri Devi, a temple to another goddess on the top of a mountain. This particular one was carved of stone and seemed really old. The few from it was spectacular. After everyone visited the temple, we spread out some reed mats and had our picnic in its shade. There was so much food passed around, everyone was stuffed by the end and there were still left-overs.
Afterward, Abha had everyone sing the welcome song to me and the other new person. Immediately following that, Abha announced that she heard I was a good singer and should sing a song for them right then. I sung the first thing I could think of, 'La Promessa', one of my favorites from my recital last semester. After I was done, various other people were called on to sing and dance in the circle. It really was a lot of fun.
On the way home there was more singing too. Anya and I led some of the others in a few English songs as well. We made a number of stops (many of them for reasons I wasn't sure of), but the last one they called a 'chai break.' Even so, I was surprised when, as we all sat by the side of the road, someone came around with cups of chai. I'm not sure where they found boiled water and milk to make it. As we sipped our tea, Anya and I were sitting on either side of Vandu (another one of the three Vandanas on my team) who decided to paint our nails while we waited. Now, my finger nails are light pink. I think it's been since middle school at least since I had my finger nails painted.
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