Women's Day 2011

Happy belated International Women's Day! As can be imagined, given the feminist nature of the organization I work with, there were many celebrations to be had this week. This year is the 100th anniversary of International Women's Day, so the events had to be particularly special. Officially, the day falls on March 8th each year. Nishtha held their celebration on Tuesday while Jagori held its two days later on Thursday. That way, the staff and friends of both organizations could attend both events.

Nishtha's celebration fell on a lovely spring afternoon. Participants were greeted at the gate with a hug from the Nishtha women. They put a dot of red coloring on my brow and tied a red protection string around my wrist, with a marigold tied into it.

The event started in Nishtha's community center with a video on water and environmental concerns made by Vandana. Making women's participation in environmental issues a focus for the afternoon, they went on to discuss issues such as cementing in streams and burning plastic. I was shocked to see just how many local women did not know burning plastic releases cancer-causing toxic gasses. There were gasps of horror and surprise from among the audience. This gives me all the more reason to be glad that Nishtha used Women's Day as a platform to spread awareness.



After those talks, everyone moved outside to the lawn for speeches, songs, skits, and dancing. Though it was a relatively small gathering of about fifty people, I feel that it was a great success, seeing the smiles on everyone's faces.



Jagori held its event in Shahpur, near where I am teaching these days, an hour and a half away from where I live. It was on a much larger scale, with around five hundred people attending. I rose at the crack of dawn, put on my purple kameez with white salwar, and hopped in a van packed with other Jagori team members all headed for Shahpur. We spent most of the morning setting up the tent area with streamers, tables, a stage, and all sorts of other glitzy yet necessary things. I do admit to spending a lot of time transfixed, watching Manju create this colorful welcome design out of colored saw dust. It was fascinating.



As we were setting up, we were visited by a Brahmin Hindu holy man. He approached Manju and the others at the front of the tent and demanded to know what we were doing. When they explained our women's day celebrations to him, he angrily protested that such feminist things were not needed. If men respect women and act properly, they will become like gods. Likewise, if women respect men and fulfill their roles properly, they will also become like gods. Therefore, feminism isn't needed and is misleading. Or something like that, anyway. From what I can see, Brahministic Hinduism certainly does not allow for women's liberation.

He then went on to insult the Jagori team saying that we were all uneducated and very stupid. To make his point, he pointed to the buttonhole on his vest and asked them what it was called in English. Rightfully, my colleagues claimed it to be a buttonhole. He vehemently disagreed with them, so they brought me over and asked me what I thought it was. I also answered that it was a buttonhole. He began to scream at me saying over and over that that was a huge mistake and that I was stupid too. Shrugging, I admitted that I was only an English teacher from America, so I would not know these things. (Besides the fact that I am something of a seamstress.) Crazy as the man was, I was quite proud of my successfully executed use of sarcasm in Hindi. He eventually declared that it was really called a 'stitching hole' (not true, friends), then lost interest and wandered off.

When the event began, I was a bit nervous at how few people were attending, but slowly and surely, women trickled in to fill our tent to the brim. They came from all over; from Shahpur itself and from distant, remote villages in the mountain, all ready to celebrate being women and support each other in how far they still have to go together, to gain equality and respect.



The four hour even included a number of guest speakers, songs, a skit, and special recognition for women who were recently elected into their village panchayats (five-member councils that govern each village).

Leading up to the elections this last December, Jagori worked at training women and sympathetic men in how to stand for the elections and how to act once they were elected. There is a law stating 33% of all members of the panchayats must be women, and, in alternating years, the pradhan (head of the council) must also be a woman. While this is a great start towards given women a voice, frequently men force their wives to stand for the election and are the real power behind their wife's political seat. Seeking to empower women and actually give them a voice, Jagori trained many women for almost a year leading up to the elections. At the event, Jagori handed out certificates of congratulation to all the people attending that had successfully been elected and had them recite and sign a pledge to work for the interest of women in their villages.



All in all, the even was a huge success, and everyone on the team seems really happy with it. While my Hindi still isn't good enough to understand everything, I was able to follow most of the proceedings and thought it was all very exciting. The empowered energy of the day was exciting, and after it all, we broke out into spontaneous dance. I am very glad that I was able to be a part of this this year, a day celebrated by women all around the world. Though struggles and issues may be different across the globe, we women are united in our quest for equality.

A little bit tasty

Today I accomplished something I have long dreamed of: cooking something delicious from scratch without any kind of recipe. The result was so lovely, I thought I would share it.



I think I shall call it Stir-Fried Tofu with Pumpkin and Broccoli. So here's how it goes:

-Ingredients-
¼ of a medium sized pumpkin, cubed (this is like 5 or 6 cups, I think)
1 head of broccoli
4 c tofu, cubed, or thereabouts
1 c cashews
½ tsp mustard seeds
2 tbs sesame seeds
6-8 cloves of garlic, minced
1 itty-bitty onion, diced (this comes out to about 2 tbs of onion)
2 tbs soy sauce
1 tbs salt
2 tsp oregano
a pinch of thyme
a pinch of basil
olive oil
1 c noodles (I used some really fine Tibetan egg noodles, and the flavor was nice)

1. Heat some olive oil in your wok. As it's warming, throw in the sesame and mustard seeds and wait until they start to dance around in the oil and crackle. Then add the onion and garlic and fry them until they start to brown a little.
2. Add your tofu and fry that until it also starts to brown a bit. You have to do this first, otherwise it will fall apart all over the other ingredients. Once it has browned, add the pumpkin and broccoli.
3. Start boiling those noodles.
4. Keep frying the veggies and such until they start to get tender. Add the cashews, soy sauce, salt, oregano, thyme, and basil, then toss it around a bit more.
5. When the noodles are ready, toss them it with a bit more olive oil, then serve.

This is delicious and vegetarian, though unfortunately not vegan because of the egg noodles. You could probably find some vegan noodles and substitute those instead. This was largely an experiment of my kitchen with what I had lying around. I invite anyone to try this out and play with it, seeing how it can be improved upon.

And it's so colorful!

Mandatory Vacation 2 - In Photos of Animals

I am sorry about the long gap between blog entries. My motivation for blogging is slowly leeching away.

As many of you may know, I took another mandatory vacation, thanks to my visa, for two months or so. I began in Jaipur by visiting my cousin Laura, who was studying abroad there for the semester. After Jaipur, I fled India with my exit date deadline on my heels, and traveled in Malaysia and Singapore with my mother. We started in Kuala Lampur, then traveled up to Georgetown in Penang Island near the border with Thailand, spent a few luxurious days in a resort on Pangkor Island, then bused down to Singapore. We entitled our travels “Eat, Beach, Shop.”

From there, we parted ways, and I went to visit the Shansi fellows, Sarah and Julia, in Banda Ache. We were joined by Nicole, who was fleeing the ash of the eruptions of Mt. Marapi. Thanks to a Muslim holiday, the four of us and two more of their friends, we were able to spend almost a whole week on the nearby island of Sabang, snorkeling, eating, and lying in hammocks.

Due to some mishaps with a ferry, Julia and Sarah getting left behind on Sabang with their motorbikes, I wound up joining Nicole with some local NGO foreigners on an elephant safari. While I'm not sure exactly where we went, we 4-wheeled down along the western coast through deep, muddy unfinished roads to a jungle hut where Indonesian forest rangers used trained elephants to patrol the jungle for illegal activities.

After that and a bit more time in Banda Ache, I struck out on my own to another part of Sumatra. I flew to Medan, then caught a shared car to Lake Toba, an ancient volcanic caldera lake. It was beautiful and peaceful, and the local Batak people were wonderful. Sadly, tourism has all but dried up there. I ended my time in Indonesia in Ubud, Bali. There, I saw cultural music and dance shows every night, ate well, and was a general tourist. The day of my departure, however, I walked into a bed post and broke my little toe, giving me a bothersome limp for the rest of my travels.

From Bali, I flew to Sydney to meet my lovely friend Samantha, who I had studied together with (and appeared together on Japanese television with) in Osaka. I had a great time hanging out with her, exploring Sydney, and meeting her friends and family. Two days, when she was working, I joined up with some Chinese tour groups and got to see other parts of the area, including the Blue Mountains. Thanks to those tour groups, I started to forget that I was in an English speaking country.
Finally, my trip turned towards America. With a 4-hour layover in Fiji, greeted by a merry band of men in sarongs and tropical shirts playing and singing a welcoming song as we came off the plane, I headed for Los Angeles. I had a jet-lagged lay-over and spent two days following my Obie-friend Lisa around.

Then, after 16 months, I returned home for the first time. I saw friends, family, and all sorts of familiar sites that really warmed my heart. I had forgotten what it felt like to really truly feel comfortable in my surroundings. I admit, it was a bit hard to leave, but after new years, I did.

Now I'm back in India with less than three months left. I'm teaching another batch of English students and enjoying it just as much as ever.

To add a little more life to this overdue entry, I present a photo narrative: Jenna's travels, with animals.


Kuala Lampur, Malaysia


Pangkor Island, Malaysia


Singapore


Sumatra, Indonesia


Ubud, Bali, Indonesia


Sydney, Australia


Dellwood, MN, USA

Manali

Last week I took a four-day trip to Manali between my final test and the class party. Manali is east of here, though still in Himachal Pradesh. It is also the largest domestic tourist destination in this part of the country. I went because I was exhausted from a marathon of teaching and little bits of nagging Jagori drama. I wanted to see someplace new and use the time to regroup and rest so that I would be ready to teach again when I returned. That, I succeeded in. My intention had been to hop coffee shops, reading, write, and otherwise take it easy, but my plans quickly changed upon arriving.

Though first, I should mention the bus ride there. I went and booked a ticket at the Dharmshala bus stand a few days in advance, as I always do when going to Delhi. What I didn't realize until the bus pulled up the night of my departure I had booked a government bus for the ten-hour journey. This is the sort of bus I take up to Dharmshala, flat-seated and crowded.

There were just a handful of other foreigners on the bus with me. One of them was a woman from Australia who had left home five years ago as a Buddhist nun to study Tibetan and the Buddhist teachings. She invited me to join her on her seat so we wouldn't have to sit by strange men, which is a very real concern given the stories of harassment on buses. Having her to chat with helped pass the time and distract from the uncomfortable seat. We stopped at six or seven other bus stands on our way, picking up new passengers, and we even delivered mail bags to a few villages. Somewhere during the night, it started to pour a cold rain. I wasn't prepared for it, and spent the night cold and awake. The conductor wasn't announcing the stops, so when we stopped briefly at Manali, I didn't know to get off. Shortly after we started going again he came to me and asked, “Weren't you going to get off at Manali?” As soon as we realized my mistake, they stopped the bus and flagged down a passing taxi. It was then 4:00 AM.

The taxi dropped me off at the hotel I had booked, which I discovered to be easily the grungiest backpacker lodge in all of Manali. There was no one at the reception counter when I arrived but the door was open, so I sat down on the dirty floor and tried to stay awake. About an hour later, the confused watchman stumbled upon me. I couldn't check in until much later, but that didn't stop him from giving me the key of a room to sleep in.

The reason I chose to go to Manali in the first place was because my friends Sonia and Brian were staying there for a few weeks so Sonia could take care of her brother's travel agency while he was away. Sonia called me that morning to tell me that she had a girl with her that I could travel and even stay with during my time there. I thought, since they gave me a bed already that morning, that I should stay one night at that dirty hotel, but I was saved from any further time there by a new acquaintance.

This girl, a friend of a friend of a friend, had just graduated from high school in Holland and was in the middle of a five week solo trip around India. Tyrtza and I hit it off well, so we decided to travel together around Manali. The first day, we mostly just ate and wandered Manali aimlessly. On the second day, Sonia helped us arrange for a car to take us around in the morning to see the local temples.

I used to say that Himachali temples were boring by comparison to the others I had seen around the country. That is only because I hadn't seen any temples in the wood and stone style that is common around Manali. They were all stunningly carved in wood, with rows of cut stone brick at varying intervals. All had high peaked roofs with carved wooden tassels hanging down from the eves. Our driver took us to see a number of these, including the famous Hadimba Temple, the Temple of Manu, a small Tibetan monastary (in typical Tibetan style), and a temple up the side of the mountain in Vishisht that was famed for its hot springs. Unfortunately, a cold rain poured all day, so we bathe in the springs themselves. That night, we managed to keep ourselves up long enough to watch the Spain versus Germany World Cup match at a restaurant near our hotel in Old Manali. (After spending the week with Tyrtza, I was ready to root for Holland in the finals. It's a shame they lost.)

On our third day, we set off on our own, catching a local government bus for Naggar. It was about an hour-long trip over beautiful mountainsides to the small mountain village. Naggar is most famous for its castle, built in the 1600s by the Sikh Raja of the local kingdom. (And sadly, sold by one of his descendants to the British for only a gun in return.) It sat perched on the hill, looking down spectacularly over the valley below. It was built in the same carved wood and stone style as all of the local temples and looked to be more of a luxury retreat than a military center. Of all the castles I've seen in Asia, this is probably the one I would most want to live in. Also in Naggar was the house and gallery of Roerich, a famous Russian artist and peace activist.

On our way back down the mountain, we stopped at a shawl shop. In the few days there, I had fallen in love with the natural colors and simple geometric woven patterns in the local Kully shawls. As it turned out, the shop I stopped in was a family run business, where everything in the store was made in a workshop in the basement. After I bought my yak-wool shawl, the shopkeeper offered to take us downstairs to see the women work. There were six or eight looms arranged around the room, with three woman working on them at the time. A fourth woman sat in the corner, spinning the wool into thread. It was fascinating to watch as the woman took a confused mass of colored threads and turned them into patterns. That night, we had dinner with Sonia, Brian, and two more of their friends from Dharmshala. As it turns out, these two were also good friends with the nun I had rode to Manali with. We had some of the best food I have had in a long time. My dinner consisted of baked trout in an herb butter sauce. Sometimes I miss chicken. Rarely do I miss pork or beef. But, have I ever missed fish. Himachali farm trout isn't as good as catch-it-yourself Minnesota walleye, but that was a meal I will remember for a long time.

On Friday morning, Tyrtza boarded a bus on the next leg of her adventure. I was left to do the aimless wandering that I had originally planned on. Most of the afternoon was spent sitting in Sonia's office chatting with her or reading a book. She had booked me a ticket on a delux bus back to Dharmshala, which I boarded that evening. We had some tire trouble in the night, so I didn't arrive home until almost 7:30 in the morning, but they were kind enough to drop me off right in Sidhbari.

Returning, I was ready to start right into work and teaching again. I was refreshed. I had my class party the next day and I will be starting another set of classes next week. Now I'm ready for it in energy and spirit.

Parties and Teaching

Once again, it's been a long time between entries, and I apologize for that. During May, my family visited for two and a half weeks, and immediately after, my students asked me to switch the English course from a three-month three days a week course to a two month five days a week course. That has kept me plenty busy and exhausted for the last month or so.

Having my family here, my parents, my brother, and my cousin, was really wonderful. We took long walks, ate lovely dinners, played everything from Clue to charades, went shopping, and saw some local sites that even I haven't had a chance to explore yet. The longer they were here, I could see my parents grow more and more comfortable with the idea of me living and working where I am.

At the end of their time here, we left Himachal Pradesh for Delhi, then hired a car to drive us straight down to Agra. We happened to time our trip down onto the plains during the hottest week of the year. Temperatures in Delhi were reaching 48 C, which is about 120 F. Staying in that air conditioned car and immediately hopping into air conditioned restaurants and our air conditioned bead and breakfast made it bearable. We got up early the next morning, 5:00 AM in fact, so that we could be at the Taj Mahal by 6:00 AM. Even that early in the morning, it was undeniably hot. The Taj itself was gorgeous in the early morning light. Only a few other tourists were around, so we even managed to get a few photos of the Taj Mahal without other people in them. Pretty impressive for one of the most famous landmarks in the world.

After breakfast, we hopped back into our air conditioned car and drove straight back up to Delhi. In Delhi, we did a bit of shopping and quite a lot of eating. Only a day and a half later, my family got back on a plane for the US and I for Himachal Pradesh.

Shortly thereafter, Anya's two year term was up and it was time for her to travel her way back to the United States. The night she took a bus down to Delhi, a handful of us saw her off at the Dharmshala bus stand, waving until we couldn't see her any more, and crying even a little longer. I admit, being here without Anya now has been tough on me, but it's been three weeks now, and I'm recovering. It's time for me to find out how to stand on my own two feet here.

So, I threw myself into teaching. This session consists of two classes, one right after the other. My first class has three girls who completed only 10 or 12 years of education. My second class is four college girls and one older assistant who works for Kamla. They're all very hard working, when the do show up to class. The difference in the levels of education between the two classes is really apparent in how they take to my activities and lessons. I had wanted to combine the two classes, as teaching a group of under 10 people is very tough. However, a number of my students in both classes were also in a computer class at the Knowledge Center at the same time as the other class, it couldn't be done. I have made the mobilizers promise to get me bigger classes next time.

Despite being busy and mildly overworked, I still have managed to experience life around me. In just the last week, I have been to a wedding, a funeral, and three birthday parties, plus trekking to a temple high in the mountains.

Last Sunday, the last day off I had before the 10-day teaching marathon I'm currently in the middle of, Devika invited me to go hiking with her and five local children. Recently, she befriended the nieces and nephews of one of our co-workers Ravina, and promised to spend a day with them. So Devika, another short-term volunteer from Delhi, and I spent a morning and afternoon hiking up a mountain with four little boys and one girl. They ranged from third grade up to tenth grade, the girl being the oldest. Although the road to Indru Nag Temple was paved, the children often got impatient and wanted to climb up the slopes on short-cuts between the long switch-backs. This gave Devika and the other volunteer some trouble, but my upbringing with lots of hiking, bouldering, and generally scampering around in nature came in handy. I was able to keep up even with the eight-year-old as he scurried up the slopes, then climb back down to give Devika an extra hand. It was refreshing. After they did their worship and offerings at the temple, we sat in the shade of a tree and ate our lunch. That consisted of one little tin of food they had brought with them to share, along with some roti. We supplemented it with bags of chips and cookies. Now that's one nutritious end to a long hike, if you ask me. The way back down was, if anything, harder than the hike up. We took yet another short cut. It was steeper and frequently dusted with dirt or pine needles, which made for slippery footing. We briefly stopped at a smaller temple where a baba, holy man, stayed who reportedly revered Michael Jackson. The children couldn't get much conversation out of him, much to their disappointment.

On Monday morning, I went to a commemorative feast for Dr. Kusum's mother. In local customs, after a death, people close to the deceased mourn for a set period of time. In this case, it was thirteen days. While mourning, they don't work and they don't eat any salted foods. On the thirteenth day, they invite their friends to a prayer service and feast. After eating prashad, a ritual offering to the Gods, I ate some delicious curries and subzis, paying respects to Dr. Kusum and her family. This sort of feast is a marker of the end of mourning, when everyone can eat salted foods again, and that they will now go on with their lives again.

On Tuesday morning, I went to the wedding of my Hindi tutor, Indu's, older sister. The invited me to come only to the last morning of the wedding, when her sister Meena was being shown off. The actual wedding ceremony happened the night before. When arrived, Meena was already deep in the ritual crying of a bride being taken away to her new home. She was sobbing so violently that she couldn't stand while her family stood around tearfully. Eventually, when it became clear that she couldn't make her way to the car herself, her new father-in-law picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, carrying her to the car himself. Meanwhile, her husband followed awkwardly behind. Both were still draped heavily in the tinsel trappings of wedding attire. Meena was put in the car with her new husband and some members of his family and her brother, as per tradition. Indu went along as well, for support.

Following the send-off was an all-day feast. People would be coming all day from around the village to congratulate the family and eat. Like the other wedding feasts I have been to, it consisted of seven courses, starting with more yellow foods, ending in darker brown ones, finishing in a sweet rice. I ate with Didi and Maya, who were both there as well, then rode back down the mountain in their car as we dodged the rain. Although we ate early in the day, the feast would last well into the afternoon.

Wednesay was one of my co-worker's birthday parties. Ashish is the Jagori librarian, and I didn't realize until we all went to his house that night that he had an identical twin brother. If they hadn't been wearing different colored shirts, I wouldn't have been able to tell the difference. A good number of Jagori staff turned out for the party. There was another seven course feast. Instead of the usual leaf plates, they had paper plates, which had clearly been printed as advertisement for an electronics company. They all bore a picture of a snazzy looking DVD player. Very clever advertisement.

After the feast, there was some singing and dancing. Get a bunch of Jagori women together in one place without an agenda, and that will happen. Then the brought out a cake. We sang happy birthday, then Ashish's family fed him and his brother the cake, smearing it liberally all over their faces. Then it was Ashish and his twin's turn to feed everyone else little bits of cake, starting with their family. It certainly was a more exciting way to eat cake than what I'm used it. Of course, once the smearing and feeding was done, everyone got a little plate with their own piece of cake on it.

After the birthday celebration, there was to be an all-night worship to one of the gods with singing, dancing, and praying. I had to teach the next day, so I politely excused myself and headed home. For most of the rest of the Jagori team, Thursday was a holiday, so that was less of a worry for them.

My second birthday party of the week was for the Karmapa Lama, the head of an older sect of Tibetan Buddhism than that of the Dalai Lama. He is in his mid to late twenties and views the Dalai Lama as his teacher, a relationship that has not happened between the two Lamas in previous incarnations. His temple is in Sidhbari itself, about a fifteen minute walk from my house. I had never been to see him or his temple before, so when I heard about the celebration, I jumped at the chance, and asked Maya if I could go along with her.

We got up early in the morning and walked down together. Even despite being a half hour early, we found that the temple itself was already packed. We waited in a line to get inside that moved nowhere. As we waited, a friend of Maya's, a Tibetan nun who had come early with a delegation of Taiwanese Buddhists, spotted her. The nun took hold of us both and pulled us confidently past security at a side door and found us a cushion to sit on. We were very lucky. I'm sure we wouldn't have gotten inside otherwise.

The morning service was long, but fascinating. When it came time for the Karmapa to come in, he was accompanied by triumphant reedy trumpets that announced his arrival. He came in and paid homage to the Dalai Lama, a cardboard cut-out sat on a throne above his own, before he sat on his own throne. Amid chanting and throat singing from the multitude of monks and nuns present, people walked in a long line past his throne, presenting him with symbolic gifts. The first of which was rice poured over a basin, to represent the creation of the world, the heavens, and the four cardinal directions. Other gifts included small representations of scriptures, Buddha statues, and scarves. This went on for quite some time. Then the head of the monastery, a member of the Dalai Lama's sect, chanted explanations of gifts he and the monastery were giving. This was all in Tibetan and lost on me.

After that, it was time for the guests to all be blessed. Monks passed out cups and poured butter tea for everyone who was inside, then passed out little leaf bowls of sweet rice. After the food and drink were blessed by the Karmapa, everyone ate. Meanwhile, other monks passed out gifts of money to all of the monks and nuns there. Gifts from the Karmapa.

Then people began to file by the Karmapa's throne as fast as they could be ushered by. Everyone carried a scarf with them. First, another monk would drape the scarf over each person's shoulders in blessing, then the Karmapa would touch their head as they passed by, and finally another monk would hand them a red string with a protection knot in it to tie onto yourself. Usually the tying of the string or the draping would be done with by the Karmapa Lama himself, but there were too many people to do that on this occasion. First people who had been waiting outside filed through. Then came the monks and nuns from inside, and lastly ordinary people like us. By this time, we were rushed so much that I had to drape my own scarf around me, but the Karmapa did touch my head as I passed.

We returned to our seats with the Taiwanese group and saw the end of the ceremony. Chanting and throat singing resumed again. I saw older monks passing out what looked like song sheets to the young boys, so that they could join in too. With a fanfare from the reedy horns, about half of the monks put on their huge yellow hats. Fringed with yarn in long crests, they remind me a bit of Roman centurion plumes. They finished their chant and the Karmapa Lama retreated with the trumpets back into his apartments.

The festivities would go on all day, but we only stayed long enough for lunch. Somehow, they managed to feed the hundreds of people that had gathered there for the Karmapa's birthday. It was an auspicious day, with a full moon and a number of celestial objects in alignment. After freshening up, Maya went back for his teaching and cake cutting in the afternoon, but I had a class to teach. Again, she got lucky by seeing another friend in the doorway who let her inside.

The third and final birthday party for the week was for the husband of a woman who was helping Didi with some of her architecture work. Their whole family was staying in the village this summer though they were from outside of Delhi themselves. Maya and Didi invited Sneha, Didi's current intern from Pune, and I to join in. I was to be assist pizza cook and bringer of the entertainment: “The Lord of the Rings” movies.

Making pizza together is something that my family has done together for as long as I can remember, and probably about as often as once a month by the time I was in high school. I love making home made pizza. Not only is it delicious and fun, it brings back many warm fuzzy feelings from home. I didn't mention that to Maya when invited, I just enthusiastically accepted her invitation. I was right in the middle of things, spreading the dough onto the pans, and putting on the sauce and toppings. Maya was so impressed by how nicely I got the dough to spread out and how lovely all the pizzas looked that I am now hired as her pizza cook. I look forward to making more pizza later on. It was a blast, especially with the two young kids hanging around and helping. It turned out that “The Fellowship of the Ring” was a little too intense and detailed for their young son to deal with. We frequently had to pause for breathers and questions. Eventually, their whole family got tired, so they went home. Maya, Sneha, and I did see the movie through to the end though. It was an enjoyable evening, to be sure.

Although the monsoon season is scheduled to start on July 15th here, we have been getting daily rain for some time now. And lately, it's been growing in intensity. Though we still haven't had an all-day rain yet, I think it's safe to say that the monsoons have already started. Although I may leave my home on a sunny afternoon, I can never leave my umbrella behind. Clouds build up quickly in the mountains, and just as quickly descend into the valley.

So, with my umbrella in hand, I soldier on through my last three days of class, a review session, and a test. Then there's that web site to finish and launch. After that, I'm taking a much-needed break.

Re-Entry

I apologize for going so long between entries. I am now safely back in Himachal Pradesh and working again, though my re-entry has been a bit chaotic. Before, I go into that, however, I'll give you a short summary of the remainder of my travels.

It has been a few weeks since I wrote this, but I didn't get a chance to post it until now. Since that time, my family has come to visit and gone again, and I have resumed my classes once more.

After Biwako, I had some adventures around Kyoto itself. At my host mother's recommendation, I checked out Ryouanji, a temple in western Kyoto famous for its zen rock garden. (Though my host father would say, “It's only rocks.”) Aside from the peaceful rocks, it is situated around a lovely little pond, which, at that time, was surrounded by flowering sakura trees. That day, I also investigated the Nishijin Textile Center. I happened to walk in just before a kimono fashion show was beginning, so I managed to get front row standing room. The rest of the center largely consisted of vendors, a few weaving demonstrations, a small museum on kimono production, and a place where you could get yourself dressed up in kimono for a hefty fee. Following those two stops, I finally accomplished my goal of walking the Tetsugaku-no-Michi, the Philosopher's Path, during hanami. The path runs along a small stream in eastern Kyoto, starting from Ginkakuji, the Silver Pavillion. Overhanging the stream are hundreds of beautiful sakura trees. So, getting myself some sakura flavored ice cream, I strolled under fully-bloomed cherry trees for a good half hour.

I finished up my time in Kansai with Easter. The small church I attended, Agape Christian Fellowship, had a very nice Easter service, and invited me to sing two solo pieces as special music for the day. Even though I had only been with them for three weeks, before the service was over, they laid on hands and prayed for me. Being able to be with my old church for those three weeks was one of the highlights of my trip.

From there, I took a night bus up to Tokyo. I was stunned at just how much easier it is to sleep on a Japanese bus than an Indian one. No crazy, curving roads, no compulsive and constant honking. Well, go figure. In Tokyo, I stayed with the Shansi Fellows who work at Obirin University, out in Machida. I arrived very early in the morning, and only knowing how to get as far as the university campus, I crossed my fingers and hoped I wouldn't get lost. Fortunately, I ran into Ben, the senior fellow there, at the bus stand in Machida. We had never met before, but figured out pretty quickly that, as the only two foreigners at the station, we were both associated with Shansi.

During my week in Tokyo, I mostly took it easy. I went shopping in Akihabara, Asakusa, and Harajuku. I saw the Ghibli Museum, all about those creative people who brought us movies like “Spirited Away” and “Howl's Moving Castle.” It was very charming and I completely recommend it to anyone who loves Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli. I went to some botanical gardens near Machida (famed from the Sailor Moon R movie). Unfortunately, the roses were not in season, though the sakura were still beautiful. I also went out to the man-made island, Odaiba, in southern Tokyo. The monorail out to it was a blast in and of it self. I had intended to go to the Museum of Future Technology, but it was closed the day I went. Instead, I made my way to a famous mall called Venus Fort. The second and third floors are made to look like some ritzy street out of Italy, with a projected sky on the ceiling that changes over the course of the day. Also in my Tokyo wanderings were three graduate school visits. One even included an informational interview entirely in Japanese. Although I was a little panicked at first when the put me in a conference room with a cup of coffee and a pile of information, it really proved to me that my Japanese is still very strong by the end of it.

From Tokyo, I flew to Seoul for a week in South Korea. My friend Jenny, who I studied abroad with at Kansai Gaidai, is currently attending grad school in Seoul, so she helped me find a hostel and met me on my way in.

On my first full day in Seoul, I did quite a bit of getting lost, but I eventually found Tokiko and her cousin, both of whom really love Korean dramas. With them, I visited a number of famous sites from their favorite TV shows, including an old castle and a cake shop. The next day, I went and saw sakura again, which were just at their peak in Seoul at the time. The following day was spent window shopping with Jenny. We met her friend for Korean Barbeque for dinner and some impassioned karaoke afterward.

From there, I bussed farther south to the small city of Gyeong-ju. It is famous as the capital of the Silla Empire, the first empire to unify the entire Korean peninsula. The fascinating thing about Gyeong-ju is that you would turn a corner on a busy street and come across a series of huge royal burial mounds. Sights like that were everywhere. Near to the city there are countless other old structures and artifacts. Only there for three days, I saw only a handful of them.

Perhaps most impressive were the massive Bulguksa temple complex and Seokguram Grotto just up the mountain behind it. After visiting the temple, I took a shuttle bus up to the grotto. It was so high up the mountain that the entire path to it was shrouded in clouds, making for a mystical experience. Inside a small cave, there are stunning stone carvings of the Buddha and other guardians, in a style very much like what I saw in the Ajunta Caves in central India. Also interesting was the Sea Tomb of King Munmu, the first Silla unifier himself. He had his tomb built at sea, just off the shore, in the hopes that he would become a dragon after his death to protect the country from Japanese pirates. There wasn't much to see, more than a few rocks poking out of the surf, but the idea intrigued me. A short walk away were the remains of a temple that his son built, with the hope of housing the dragon when he wanted to come ashore. Closer to Gyeong-ju proper, I also went to see East Asia's oldest standing astrological observatory. It was a tall bottle-shaped tower, not at all what I would have imagined.

From there, I returned to Seoul for the night and had dinner with Jenny again, before flying back to Delhi via Kuala Lampur. I had originally planned to fly through Bangkok and spend the night in that airport, but with the escalating political tensions in Thailand, I decided to change my ticket at the last minute. This added to a bit of departure chaos, but worked out fine in the end.

Re-entering India was a shock. Coming from East Asia, Japan and Korea in particular, where everything is orderly, quiet, and clean, Delhi was overwhelming. Thankfully, Anya was in town to meet her friend Margaret as she flew in as well. Otherwise, I don't know if I would have been able to handle the chaos, noise, and smells of Delhi with as much calm as I did. We saw a not-particularly-enjoyable Hindi film, but it was in an air-conditioned theater, and had dinner before I hopped on yet another night bus back up to Himachal.

I appreciate the relative peace of where I am here. People are far friendlier up here in the village, and there is just so much less going on. You can hardly call the village quiet though, with the cows, roosters, dogs, and other animals, not to mention the occasional car horns going up and down the road and the sunrise and sunset temple music that blares across the village. That is a kind of noise I can handle though.

I am teaching again. So far, I have two classes of beginning English, one after the other in the afternoons. Although I have only had two class sessions so far, I am already loving my students. This round, both classes are almost entirely girls, and the girls in my classes are largely those that are very involved in the Jagori Youth Groups. They have a confidence about them that I haven't seen in other village girls. It's that sort of thing that tells me Jagori really is doing good work.

TARA Center also has a new puppy named Sasha. She's cute and energetic, but really doesn't know her manners. I'm making it a small project of mine to try and teach her how to behave better around people.

Getting registered at the Foreigner Registration Office is also a story that should be told. It's a good example of how things tend to work here.

On my visa, it says that I need to register with the local FRO within 14 days of arriving in India if I intend to stay longer than 180 days. Trying to find a time that worked well for Anya to come along with me wound up taking me to day twelve of fourteen. The afternoon I went, there was a scheduled power outage for that entire area of Dharmshala. While there were plenty of people there waiting to register, the FRO officer refused to sign anything until the power came back. I waited until the office closed, but the power never came back.

The next day I got up early and headed straight for the office with Anya, hoping to get the process over with before my afternoon classes. We arrived just as it opened, filled out four copies of the registration form and took them up to the desk, only to be told that I wasn't supposed to re-register all over again. I just needed to bring him my registration papers from last time and he would sign them again. Of course, those registration papers were back in my house in Rakkar. We took the bus back, and I retrieved my papers. Alone this time, I turned around right away and caught the bus back into Dharmshala again. This time, when I arrived at the FRO office, there were about fifty Tibetans waiting to register before me. I began to wonder if I would make it back in time for my classes. Someone finally told me that there was a shorter line just for women, and so I waited there instead. When I reached the counter at last, the FRO officer signed my paper and gave me three more months of permitted residency, instead of the six I was hoping for. He told me to come back in August, and he'd give me six more then.

Had something like this happened to me even nine months ago, I would have been upset, angry, and ready to give up. This short time that I have been in India so far certainly has taught me a lot of patience.

Return to Kansai

I have now been in Japan for three weeks, and am as much in love with this country as I have ever been. It is a relief to be in a place where I understand the culture, history, and language. Coming back to Kansai almost felt like coming home to me. Being able to say “tadaima!” (“I'm home”) as I set foot into the Ando house sealed that feeling.

My good friend Tokiko, whom I met while teaching Japanese at Mori no Ike, a part of the Concordia Language villages, has been gracious enough to let me stay at her house since I have been here. It is in Tarumi, a little ways outside of Kobe. She is about the same age as my mother and her parents, who live with her, are in their eighties. It has been wonderful to stay in a home atmosphere with nice conversation and good home-cooked food. When I first arrived, I was constantly slipping accidental Hindi, but in a matter of days, my fluency returned, even if I can't remember some of the more advanced grammar patterns and vocabulary. I guess that comes with staying with people who don't speak English. They taught me to play majong (which I still don't understand very well, but managed to win anyway), and I, in turn, taught them cribbage.

A lot of my time has been spent relaxing around the house, reading, watching Korean dramas with Tokiko and her mother, and running short errands with them. I have been recruited as 'young, healthy bag-carrier' on a few occasions. However, last week, I managed to catch a cold that kept me at home for two days, then throw out my lower back while trying to pick up my futon for cleaning. That has made me take things a lot more slowly, and I am still recovering.

Some fun outings I have had with Tokiko or her friend Tsurusaki-san have been to Suma Temple, the Sumaura ropeway, lunch and fabric shopping in Kobe, a takoyaki restaurant, and the Yume Butai on Awaji Island.

One day when I felt the need for a walk, and Tokiko's parents didn't like the idea of me wandering through a park on my own, they recruited Tsurusaki-san to take me to the temple near her house. It was the first day of spring, so before the temple, we cleaned and put flowers on the graves of her parents and her middle son. It was all done with an air of pleasant remembrance rather than sadness. She even had me pose for pictures next to both graves. Suma Temple is really one of the most interesting temples I have been too. It has neither spectacular architecture nor gardens, but it has lots of statues of different kinds, and a small museum about a historical warrior from that area. Then we went up the mountainside on the Sumaura Ropeway. At the top, there was a tower that had a spectacular view of the surrounding area and Kansai bay. From up there, I could see far inland. Along the coast, I could see almost from Himeji all the way past Kobe and Osaka. The tower also had a slowly spinning cafe, that would take visitors on a slow panorama as they had their tea and cake. (To get to Suma Temple, take the Sanyo/Hanshin line to Sumadera Station and walk straight up the road to the temple. For the ropeway, go to the Sanyo/Hanshin Sumaurakouen Station. The ropeway platform is a part of that station.)

I went into Kobe on a number of occasions. I must admit that I'm disappointed in the “Lonely Planet” for making it seem as if there is nothing to do in the city and surrounding area. I will do my best to disprove this, and provide what I can here. On one particular time, Tokiko and I went to Ygrekplus, a French restaurant with a bakery on the first floor. The lunch set special was absolutely delicious, and had a decidedly Japanese flair to it with lots of seafood. There was also an all-you-can eat bread table with many varieties of fresh baked breads. The desserts looked amazing, but were somewhat expensive. (To get there, get off at the JR Sannomia Station and head south from the central exit. It's about two blocks down, on the corner.) Just across the street from it was a great craft and fabric store, where I spent the better part of an hour after lunch.

Another day, I went by myself to the Yume Butai gardens on Awaji Island. The bridge to Awaji is only one stop down the JR Kobe line from where I have been staying, at Maiko Station. I only had to climb the stairs up onto the bridge and take a bus across to the island. A part of a massive Westin hotel, the gardens sprawl for many acres. I didn't visit all of them, but what I did see was beautiful. The greenhouse was stunning. Take traditional Japanese gardening aesthetic, add modern Japanese art styles and plans from all over the world, and you have the Yume Butai greenhouse. I had never pondered what a Japanese cactus garden would look like before, but when I saw one for the first time, it made a lot of sense. As per gardening aesthetics, everything was carefully placed and arranged as part of a grand plan. Outside, the main garden was full of tulips coming into bloom, while various paths led to impressive overlooks of the bay.

On Sundays, I have been going to my old church, Agape Christian Fellowship, that meets in the Keihan Kuzuha station building. Even though it means getting up early and taking a 90-minute, multiple-transfer train ride to get there. It is great to see all of the old members again, and meet the new ones as well. Since I have been there, one of the members bought an old cafe that the church is now working to renovate to use as fellowship space as well as an independent business. After each service, I have gone with some of the members to eat take-out lunch there and chat for a while. This Sunday, Easter, I will be singing a few solos as special music for them. Pastor Takeshi liked to ask me to sing for them back when I was studying abroad, so I thought I would bring some music along and offer to sing again. That offer was taken up with enthusiasm.

This week, since Tokiko is on a business trip, I have left the Ando house and done some adventuring on my own. On Monday night, I met Masami, who stayed at my house as an exchange student when I was a junior in high school, in Osaka for dinner and karaoke. It was great to see her again, and that she was doing so well. I had gone to her graduation at Kansai Gaidai a week before, but only had a minute to say congratulations before she hurried off. She is already starting her job as a banker this week, and hardly had time to see me, but I am glad it worked out. That night, I went back to Suma and spent the night in Tsurusaki-san's spare room.

The next day, I headed back for the Hirakatashi area to meet my old host family. Mayu has hardly grown, but she has matured. My host parents seem to be the same as ever. Since I stayed with them, they moved into a new house closer to the middle school Mayu wanted to go to. Now that she is in, since it is a combined middle-high school, she doesn't have to worry about entrance exams until college. It is good to see her playing more and studying less, like a kid should be. We walked up the river by their house and did some hanami (cherry blossom viewing), while eating snacks.

Back when I was studying abroad, I quickly bonded with Mayu over our shared love of Pokemon. She used to ask me to get out my DS and play Pokemon just so she could watch. Now she has a DS of her own, and she was very excited about the prospect of trading Pokemon for foreign versions. She sent me hunting for some of her favorites, and we did a bunch of trading. It was nerdy girl bonding time.

I also got a kimono review session with my host mother. She had taught me how to dress myself in a kimono and Nagoya style obi before, but I had forgotten a few steps. We practiced for at least an hour, and she even showed me a few different obi tying techniques. The big surprise, however, is that she had a bag full of kimono things that she and her cousin didn't need any more. It included four kimono, three obi, and one nagajuban (under kimono). That inspired me to go shopping the next day for more kimono accessories to complete my kimono kit. It is amazing just how many tiny details go into wearing a kimono. There are so many pieces that you never see, used simple to make the garment look perfect and stay that way. The next day, we biked to a kaitenzushi (conveyor belt sushi) restaurant for lunch. I must have had a silly grin on my face the entire time as I watched little plates of sushi and cake chug past, occasionally snatching one that looked tasty. From there, we said our goodbyes and I headed for Kyoto.

Kyoto is, as of yet, my favorite city in the world. That I hadn't been there yet in this trip was bugging me, so I finally took my chance. I reserved places to stay for two nights and made this my base of operations for three days. I started by going to Fushimi Inori Shrine in southern Kyoto. It is famous for its seemingly endless tunnels of brilliant red-orange torii gates. If you have see “Memoirs of a Geisha” you will have seen those torii in a brief scene where the main character is racing through them.

I then spent the evening in Gion, also famous from that movie, as it is the Geisha district itself. I, however, was there for the used kimono shops. I found good deals on the pieces I still needed to complete my kimono kit, while perplexing many shop workers by going straight for the undergarments instead of the kimonos. It's fun to shop for these kind of things, because the women working there are generally delighted to discover that a young, foreign girl is seriously interested in the art of kimono.

My hotel was the Kyoto Capsule Ryoukan. It wasn't my first choice, but was the only place I could find on short notice. However, it turned out to be perfect for my needs. One room had eight or ten bunk bed-like capsules. Each had a locker for belongings, and the bed itself had a blind that you could snap down for privacy. Inside the bed capsules were TVs, internet and plug hook-ups, as well as a built-in alarm clock. It was incredibly clean and comfortable. Close to the Kyoto station for convenience, I highly recommend it for solo travelers. It is also one of the least expensive places to stay in the Kyoto area.

Today, my adventures took me into Shiga-ken to the shores of Lake Biwa and the Hikone Castle. As a castle-lover and a lake-lover, I've been curious about Hikone-jo for a while. It was a drizzly day, but I still had a good time. I thought I would do a proper hanami and have lunch under the blooming sakura flowers, so I bought a bentou (lunch box) and found myself a nice rock to sit on in the castle gardens. Propping up my umbrella underneath the mostly un-bloomed buds, I had my lunch. I'm sure several people laughed a the silly foreigner, but I enjoyed myself. The great thing about bud-viewing on a rainy day, is that you have the whole picnic to yourself.

The castle itself is the smallest I have seen so far, but it was still very beautiful. There was a lovely plum orchard that was still in bloom, and a number of pretty water birds in the moat. The top of the castle tower provided a great (though misty) view of Biwako and the surrounding area. It is perched on a high hill rising out of the plains right on the shores of Lake Biwa. If I were a feudal lord, I would have put my castle right there too.

I only have a few more days left in Kansai before I head up to Tokyo on Monday night, and I plan to make the most of them. This time in Japan really has cemented my love for the country. It will be hard for me to leave. Though, I am seriously considering graduate school in Japan once I am finished with my Shansi Fellowship in India.