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.