The weather has taken a turn for the colder here as winter sets in. While everyone reassures me that I won't wake up to snow on my front porch, it is still significantly colder; cold enough to make me want to wear lots of layers and stay wrapped in my blankets in bed. Houses here don't have central heating or insulation, so your warmth is what you wear. My house has mud on the inner walls, so that helps some, but none of my windows really seal and my ceiling has no insulation at all.
Coming from Minnesota, I can deal with cold as I know how to dress for it, however, even there, heating provides some relief from the chill. I'm toying with the idea of getting a space heater for my room when it gets even colder. My landlady stopped up this morning to tell me that she's going to get me a hot water bottle to put under my covers at night to keep me even warmer. This time of year, people drink a lot of chai too (although it seems like everyone is always drinking chai no matter what time of year it is).
I was also interested to discover that, since most people prefer wearing sandals here, socks with sandals are not a fashion fau pas as they would be in the Unite States. In fact, everyone does it. That way, you can show off your lovely socks to everyone. They even make socks specially for thong sandals with the big toe separate from the rest, much like tabi socks in Japan.
One thing that continually throws me for a loop is that, although winter is setting in, there are certain things that are coming into season. At least one type of tree is blossoming right now and people are planting new crops in their fields. I’ll need to get used to plant life still existing in winter.
Now that my Hindi lessons have fallen into a rhythm, I figure now is a good time to talk about a little what they are like. Our tutor is a girl named Indu, who is in her late teens. Anya knew of her because her father is a gardener in Didipur. She is very bright and wanted to go to college but couldn't because she was needed to help at home and in the fields.
Anya and I meet with Indu twice a week. Our lessons usually consist of four parts. First, she looks at the sentences we have written for homework since the last lesson and goes over any issues we have. Next, we usually do a reading from one of our books. Since Anya and I are different levels, she uses and intermediate reader (by Usha R. Jain) and I just use the Hindi dialogue textbook from SASLI's second year Hindi class. We trade off week by week which readings we actually do in our lesson, though we both are practicing reading outside of class. Then, for listening and spelling practice, Indu goes through the reading and finds words we had trouble with, and we have a sort of spelling test. I'm slowly getting better at hearing the difference between long and short vowels and aspirate and unaspirated consonants. Finally, we have conversation practice. Sometimes Indu gives us a topic or situation and sometimes we just pick our own.
After our Hindi lesson is done, we switch over to English and tutor Indu in English. She is an eager student and probably does her homework better than all but a few of the students in my classes.
Granted, I know I could be a better Hindi student. It's easier to study daily when you have class daily, but I find my studying slipping off at the end of the day. I go to bed telling myself, I'll study more tomorrow. That's certainly something I need to work more on.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Friday, November 6, 2009
Wedding Feast
On Thursday I attended my first Indian wedding. Granted, we weren't there for the whole thing, but I got to experience a part of it. Weddings around here, to my understanding, are at least a three day process. There is an evening for the women to put henna on their hands. There is the wedding ceremony, and then the following day, there is the feast and more celebration. What we attended was the dham, the feast.
Somehow, I knew people on both sides of the marriage. The bride was the daughter of Dr. Barbara's cook and the groom was the brother of Phillip's landlord, who attended our combined birthday party and invited everyone there to the marriage. We, however, didn't get to see the bride and groom themselves.
Anya, Kelly, and I, dressed in our finest suits, trekked across several fields, managing to pick up an escort of all three Nishta dogs on our way, before we reached the wedding. When we arrived, the feast had already started, and what I saw was much like the village feast of earlier this fall. Sitting on long mats on the ground with leaf plates in front of them were wedding guests. People with baskets and bowls of food ran up and down the aisles between the plates and dumped food onto each plate as they passed.
Here, odd numbers are auspicious, so wedding feasts usually have either five or seven courses. Likewise, when we gave our offering envelope, more or less to pay for the food, we gave 151 rupees between us. Giving 150 would have been back luck.
Everyone was wearing beautiful clothing, though there were no saris even there. It was fun to look at what everyone had chosen to wear to the celebration. The father of the bride wore a bright red scarf tied in a sort of turban on his head.
There was not enough room for everyone to eat at once, so as soon as one group had eaten it's seven courses, they would throw out their leaf plates, wash their hands with whatever water was left in their cups (this is a finger food occasion), and then the next group would flood onto the area and find a seat.
While people were eating, women from the wedding party would pass out little bags of bangles to random guests. I think this is another auspicious thing to do.
After the feast, we sat in the shade for a a while, then went up to Phillip's apartment for coffee before heading back home.
Somehow, I knew people on both sides of the marriage. The bride was the daughter of Dr. Barbara's cook and the groom was the brother of Phillip's landlord, who attended our combined birthday party and invited everyone there to the marriage. We, however, didn't get to see the bride and groom themselves.
Anya, Kelly, and I, dressed in our finest suits, trekked across several fields, managing to pick up an escort of all three Nishta dogs on our way, before we reached the wedding. When we arrived, the feast had already started, and what I saw was much like the village feast of earlier this fall. Sitting on long mats on the ground with leaf plates in front of them were wedding guests. People with baskets and bowls of food ran up and down the aisles between the plates and dumped food onto each plate as they passed.
Here, odd numbers are auspicious, so wedding feasts usually have either five or seven courses. Likewise, when we gave our offering envelope, more or less to pay for the food, we gave 151 rupees between us. Giving 150 would have been back luck.
Everyone was wearing beautiful clothing, though there were no saris even there. It was fun to look at what everyone had chosen to wear to the celebration. The father of the bride wore a bright red scarf tied in a sort of turban on his head.
There was not enough room for everyone to eat at once, so as soon as one group had eaten it's seven courses, they would throw out their leaf plates, wash their hands with whatever water was left in their cups (this is a finger food occasion), and then the next group would flood onto the area and find a seat.
While people were eating, women from the wedding party would pass out little bags of bangles to random guests. I think this is another auspicious thing to do.
After the feast, we sat in the shade for a a while, then went up to Phillip's apartment for coffee before heading back home.
Monday, November 2, 2009
a little bit of excitement
There has been quite a bit of excitement around here lately. First of all, my class has started up again. Thanks to a number of holidays and confusion around their teachers disappearing to Kashmir, I had incredibly patchy attendance from all of my students. Most of them missed taking the midterm test. Once I came back, I hoped that things would straighten themselves out, but there were still rampant absences. Thankfully, I have all of their phone numbers, so I send all of them text messages reminding them to show up to class this last Saturday. Even still, there were some people missing, but today the last of them came back again. It's a relief to know that my classes will start running normally again.
Secondly, Kelly, the Shansi fellow in Madurai, came up to visit. Anya cut out of the retreat in Kashmir a bit early and went to meet her grandparents in Calcutta. There, she also met up with Kelly. They two of them traveled around Calcutta and Varanasi before come back here on Saturday.
While the retreat in Kashmir reminded me that I was part of something bigger, not just a disconnected English teacher in the Knowledge Center. Now I am reminded of something else bigger. It's not just Anya and I here and, our fellowship isn't just about navigating the ins and outs of Jagori. I had sort of forgotten all of the other Shansi fellows around Asia and that we're not just teaching machines. It's about cultural exchange, traveling, and growing in understanding of the world as well. Anya scolded me the other day that perhaps I take my classes a bit too seriously and that I need to consider traveling sometime soon. To that end, Kelly is going back to Madurai about the time that this current class session finishes. I am toying with the idea of going back with her and seeing a bit of south India.
On top of just reminding me of my place in things, it is wonderful to have Kelly around. Although we only met during our winter term training, we've become friends. It's always nice to have a fresh face around to liven up the group.
The third bit of excitement is that, for the full moon, the Jagori Grameen website was launched today. There are still pieces that I need to fill in more, but it is online now at http://www.jagorigrameen.org.
Secondly, Kelly, the Shansi fellow in Madurai, came up to visit. Anya cut out of the retreat in Kashmir a bit early and went to meet her grandparents in Calcutta. There, she also met up with Kelly. They two of them traveled around Calcutta and Varanasi before come back here on Saturday.
While the retreat in Kashmir reminded me that I was part of something bigger, not just a disconnected English teacher in the Knowledge Center. Now I am reminded of something else bigger. It's not just Anya and I here and, our fellowship isn't just about navigating the ins and outs of Jagori. I had sort of forgotten all of the other Shansi fellows around Asia and that we're not just teaching machines. It's about cultural exchange, traveling, and growing in understanding of the world as well. Anya scolded me the other day that perhaps I take my classes a bit too seriously and that I need to consider traveling sometime soon. To that end, Kelly is going back to Madurai about the time that this current class session finishes. I am toying with the idea of going back with her and seeing a bit of south India.
On top of just reminding me of my place in things, it is wonderful to have Kelly around. Although we only met during our winter term training, we've become friends. It's always nice to have a fresh face around to liven up the group.
The third bit of excitement is that, for the full moon, the Jagori Grameen website was launched today. There are still pieces that I need to fill in more, but it is online now at http://www.jagorigrameen.org.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Jagori Retreat in Kashmir
For Jagori's annual staff retreat, we all went to Shrinagar in Kashmir. Travel to the retreat in itself was a two day ordeal. On Tuesday morning, we all gathered at the Dharmsala bus stand to take a standard bus to Phratankot in the Punjab. There, we spent the evening at a Sikh temple until our coach bus arrived at 3:00 AM. I'm certain the reason we stayed there is because it was free. On the upper floor in a long hallway, they put out old, worn mattress pads and rather stained looking sheets for us to sleep on. I was among those that attempted to stay awake until the next bus came, but as more and more people dropped off, and I couldn't keep my eyes open wide enough to keep reading Les Miserables, I gave in and curled up for the last half hour.
That evening, before everyone settled in for the night, I went out to wander the town with Vandana, Vandana (there are three of them on my team), Devika, Anya, and Roni. We went on a grand adventure of people giving wrong directions to find an ATM, then followed our nose to a little restaurant for dinner. While others had puranata (a flat-bread), samosa (breaded pockets with potatoes and vegetables inside), I went for the chow mein, which I thought would be less spicy. I was wrong. Chow mein is a very common dish served at restaurants in India, and it is Indian in the same way Lee Ann Chin is American. This chow mein was loaded with green chili peppers more than any other vegetable. It was quite a surprise.
Once back at the temple for the night, I 'made friends' with a group of children from a Sikh family that had traveled to visit the temple and was staying the night there as well. The youngest of them, a 10-year-old boy, was shyly dragged by his older brother and sister, to where Vandana and I were sitting and told us that he wanted to become my friend. The reason for his interest was pretty obvious: my complexion and hair color. I am obviously foreign and that makes me instantly an object of interest.
At first, I practiced my Hindi on him and his siblings, with Vandana's help, then she suggested that they practice their English on me. At first, they wanted to know the basics, like my name, where I was from, my age, my family. Then, they moved into more unusual, and amusing, questions.
“You are so fair! What do you do to your face to get so fair?”
“You hair color? How do you get it that color?” The boy reached over to pet the hair on top of my head then added, “It's so silky. How do you get it so silky?”
“Why are your eyes that color? What color are they anyway?” Mine are a very light shade of blue. At this point I was getting frazzled trying to come up with even remotely satisfactory answers for them. Vandana cut in with, “Because that way they will match her outfit so well.” I was wearing sky blue that night. That seemed to dissuade them.
“Why do you wear glasses?”
It continued on until we excused ourselves and went back up to where everyone was settling in. Since our space didn't have any doors at all, we saw them later that evening when they let it slip that they wanted to 'make friends' with Anya as well and hung out with us for some time later.
At 2:30 AM, the whole Jagori team was roused and packed everything up again to load up on our coach bus. My strategy of staying up late to force myself to sleep on the bus seems to have failed, as the bus had awful shocks and the roads were incredibly winding. At best, I slept 2 hours in total. We stopped sometime after dawn for breakfast at a road-side restaurant for chai, beans, and puri (fried flat-bread). When much of the team complained that the food was bad, we all loaded back on the bus and went a few miles down the road to another restaurant and ate there. For the first people served like Anya and I, we had our second breakfast there. It was much the same food, but apparently better. I can't tell bad beans from good ones yet.
We didn't really stop for lunch, but had a quick snack of more chai and pakora (battered fried vegetables), which I didn't partake in because I was feeling queasy. We then loaded back on the bus and headed off again. Before the bus could leave, one vendor saw that I was foreign through my open window and tried to convince me to stay with his cousin, for free, once I reached Shrinagar. I declined as politely as I could and then the bus drove off, saving me from farther argument. We arrived at our hostel in Shrinagar at around 7:00 PM. That made for about 14 hours on the road that day. We had chai and snacks then dinner before all falling into our beds. By beds, I mean pads on the floor lined up six in a room. It's comfortable and cozy, if cold. I was glad for the closeness of everyone and slept in silk thermal underwear, pajamas, socks, and a sweater. I could comfortably had worn more, even.
On Thursday, the retreat workshops began. The morning was spent giving presentations of what each Jagori team had been doing lately and goals for the next five years. In the afternoon we broke into our teams and discussed the strengths of our individual activities and how to monitor them better then gathered together to give suggestions and feedback to each group on their works.
That night after dinner, we invited the engineering students of the hostel to have a cultural exchange with us. This is a men's hostel, so all of them were men. It turned into a dance party, more than anything. Four Kashmiri boys tried to perform a pop dance for us, but kept forgetting their moves. From there, the Jagori girls sang songs while they danced. Eventually a few of the Jagori men joined in dancing, followed by some women. At one point, they pulled up Anya to dance with them, then Roni later. As I sat farther away from them, I was safer from that kind of attention, but I knew it was only a matter of time until I would be forced to dance as well. It took them until the last dance, but they did grab me. While Jagori has gotten me more comfortable with singing on command, I'm still incredibly nervous dancing in front of people. I danced for a minute or so, then snuck off and sat down again. It was more fun for me just to watch.
On Friday, we toured around Shrinagar. First, we went up into a famous hill station up in the mountains where we briefly wandered, took pictures, and did a bit of shopping. Anya bargained hard for a shawl, while I managed to get material for a wool salwar kameez at a cheaper price than her shawl without even bargaining. I guess because shawls were in higher demand, he felt like he could raise the price, where as fabric wasn't as much.
After that, we got back in the bus and drove to the mountains on the other side of Shrinagar. There, we visited two Mughal era gardens and their temples. What surprised me most about the gardens was that most of the flowers were types that I see frequently back at home in Minnesota, suggesting that the climate here is very similar to that back home.
Kashmir, despite the mountains, reminds me a lot of home in a way. Something about the trees turning yellow, the crisp cool air, and something else I can't put my finger on all adds to the feeling of me being close to home.
After the gardens, we went to Lake Dal and hired small boats to take us around the lake. They had canopies and soft seats enough for four passengers. It was incredibly relaxing to be rowed across the still water. The peace was broken, however, by a floating marketplace. The lake was filled with vendors in their own boats selling everything from saffron to jewelry to tea to shawls. Unlike those on the side of the road, you couldn't run away from these. You had to convince them firmly that you really, really had no intention of buying what they had.
Our guide took us past a lotus patch. The flowers weren't in season, but it was still pretty stunning with all the huge leaves peaking up over the water. Then he offered to take us to a woodworking workshop and we accepted. When we pushed up to shore, a man was chiseling intricate flower and vine designs into a plank of chestnut wood. It appeared to be a cabinet door. He told us about the process and then took us up into the show room. It was almost like a museum, the craftsmanship on all of his pieces were so beautiful. I walked out with a few more inexpensive souvenirs to give as gifts. I know enough about woodworking myself to know that this man was a true artist with wood.
Hopping back into our boat, we floated slowly back across the lake, watching the sun set. It was really magical. We all wished that time would slow to a stop just so we could keep enjoying the beautiful view and gentle sway of the water.
From there, we went on a quick shopping trip in Shrinagar. There, I finally found myself a shawl I liked in nice teal and blue colors. We also happened across an English book store, where I picked up one of the Tolkien histories. We had little time left, so we hurried back to the bus and home for the night. Dinner came around 9:00. I thought that people in Himachal eat late, but it seems that the schedule is even later here in Kashmir.
At nearly all of our stops, a common tourist trap was a photography group that would dress up people in traditional Kashmiri clothes, have them pose with a gaudy basket of fake flowers, and take their picture. There was even a vendor boat or two out on Dal Lake taking pictures like this. While our little boat managed to escape them, nearly all the other Jagori women came home with photos of them dressed as Kashmiris.
On Saturday, we had more meetings all day. It was the most productive time for us and we got a lot done, including starting to restructure the responsibilities in our team. While some of the earlier sessions had left me with a sour taste in my mouth, I really feel like we made good progress and everyone understood each other. We finished off the night with some singing and dancing, as always.
An interesting point of note: in India, nuts are called 'dried fruit.' As we left the session tonight we were asked if we wanted some dried fruits. I happily responded that I'd love some dried mango, but was told that they only had almonds and walnuts. I wound up buying a bag of each anyway from the college cafeteria below where we had our sessions.
Kashmiri cuisine is very oily and consists of more beans and rice than Himchali cuisine does. What doesn't have oil usually has lots of ghee (purified butter). This has led to some stomach troubles for me, but I've learned what I can eat safely and what I can't. Thanks to my cousin Krista's training this summer of putting chili powder into absolutely everything we ate this summer, I no longer get an upset stomach whenever I eat spicy food, but oil and dairy still cause problems for me. My friends and I just laugh about my overly sensitive stomach. What else can you do when nature gives you troubles?
The trip back was mostly uneventful, but somehow longer. We must have taken a different route, making two middle-of-the-night bus changes. We left the hostel at about 9:30 AM on Sunday morning and arrived back in Rakkar at 5:45 AM on Monday morning, just in time to greet our landlady and hear the early morning worship music from the temple near by.
We took a few stops, but mostly pushed on to get back as soon as possible. I think everyone was secretly thinking of bathing with hot water, something we hadn't been able to do all week. On our way out of the valley where Shrinagar was, we got stopped at a check point. Unlike on our way in, but Roni and I were in the front of the bus. Roni was right in front of the door and the official noticed her right off, demanding a passport and having her fill out a form. Somehow, he didn't see me right across the aisle. The girls around me realized what was going on, and told me to quickly cover my head and face with my dupata and pretend to be sleep. They didn't want to have to take the extra time to have me fill out the paperwork too. Hiding like that, with the girls all giggling around me, I passed for an Indian.
We took a shopping stop once we were out of the valley, but in the market we stopped at, the shops were all mostly identical: baskets, dried fruit, ugly shawls, and souvenir cricket bats. It make all of us wish we had more time to shop in Shrinagar itself.
While there were ups and downs this last week, I'm glad I went. I got a much better feeling for what Jagori is about and how it works. Almost more importantly, I got to know the other Jagori staff that don't pass through the Knowledge Center. It took a while to break the ice because most of the staff assumed I spoke almost no Hindi. I have been shy of them because I was worried about not being able to hold a conversation. Vandana told me that had the effect of making them shy away from me, afraid that I didn't want to talk to them. I stubbornly worked on my Hindi all week and soon most of the staff realized that they could talk to me. Another side effect is that my Hindi improved greatly over the course of the retreat. It was the beginning of a lot of new friendsh
That evening, before everyone settled in for the night, I went out to wander the town with Vandana, Vandana (there are three of them on my team), Devika, Anya, and Roni. We went on a grand adventure of people giving wrong directions to find an ATM, then followed our nose to a little restaurant for dinner. While others had puranata (a flat-bread), samosa (breaded pockets with potatoes and vegetables inside), I went for the chow mein, which I thought would be less spicy. I was wrong. Chow mein is a very common dish served at restaurants in India, and it is Indian in the same way Lee Ann Chin is American. This chow mein was loaded with green chili peppers more than any other vegetable. It was quite a surprise.
Once back at the temple for the night, I 'made friends' with a group of children from a Sikh family that had traveled to visit the temple and was staying the night there as well. The youngest of them, a 10-year-old boy, was shyly dragged by his older brother and sister, to where Vandana and I were sitting and told us that he wanted to become my friend. The reason for his interest was pretty obvious: my complexion and hair color. I am obviously foreign and that makes me instantly an object of interest.
At first, I practiced my Hindi on him and his siblings, with Vandana's help, then she suggested that they practice their English on me. At first, they wanted to know the basics, like my name, where I was from, my age, my family. Then, they moved into more unusual, and amusing, questions.
“You are so fair! What do you do to your face to get so fair?”
“You hair color? How do you get it that color?” The boy reached over to pet the hair on top of my head then added, “It's so silky. How do you get it so silky?”
“Why are your eyes that color? What color are they anyway?” Mine are a very light shade of blue. At this point I was getting frazzled trying to come up with even remotely satisfactory answers for them. Vandana cut in with, “Because that way they will match her outfit so well.” I was wearing sky blue that night. That seemed to dissuade them.
“Why do you wear glasses?”
It continued on until we excused ourselves and went back up to where everyone was settling in. Since our space didn't have any doors at all, we saw them later that evening when they let it slip that they wanted to 'make friends' with Anya as well and hung out with us for some time later.
At 2:30 AM, the whole Jagori team was roused and packed everything up again to load up on our coach bus. My strategy of staying up late to force myself to sleep on the bus seems to have failed, as the bus had awful shocks and the roads were incredibly winding. At best, I slept 2 hours in total. We stopped sometime after dawn for breakfast at a road-side restaurant for chai, beans, and puri (fried flat-bread). When much of the team complained that the food was bad, we all loaded back on the bus and went a few miles down the road to another restaurant and ate there. For the first people served like Anya and I, we had our second breakfast there. It was much the same food, but apparently better. I can't tell bad beans from good ones yet.
We didn't really stop for lunch, but had a quick snack of more chai and pakora (battered fried vegetables), which I didn't partake in because I was feeling queasy. We then loaded back on the bus and headed off again. Before the bus could leave, one vendor saw that I was foreign through my open window and tried to convince me to stay with his cousin, for free, once I reached Shrinagar. I declined as politely as I could and then the bus drove off, saving me from farther argument. We arrived at our hostel in Shrinagar at around 7:00 PM. That made for about 14 hours on the road that day. We had chai and snacks then dinner before all falling into our beds. By beds, I mean pads on the floor lined up six in a room. It's comfortable and cozy, if cold. I was glad for the closeness of everyone and slept in silk thermal underwear, pajamas, socks, and a sweater. I could comfortably had worn more, even.
On Thursday, the retreat workshops began. The morning was spent giving presentations of what each Jagori team had been doing lately and goals for the next five years. In the afternoon we broke into our teams and discussed the strengths of our individual activities and how to monitor them better then gathered together to give suggestions and feedback to each group on their works.
That night after dinner, we invited the engineering students of the hostel to have a cultural exchange with us. This is a men's hostel, so all of them were men. It turned into a dance party, more than anything. Four Kashmiri boys tried to perform a pop dance for us, but kept forgetting their moves. From there, the Jagori girls sang songs while they danced. Eventually a few of the Jagori men joined in dancing, followed by some women. At one point, they pulled up Anya to dance with them, then Roni later. As I sat farther away from them, I was safer from that kind of attention, but I knew it was only a matter of time until I would be forced to dance as well. It took them until the last dance, but they did grab me. While Jagori has gotten me more comfortable with singing on command, I'm still incredibly nervous dancing in front of people. I danced for a minute or so, then snuck off and sat down again. It was more fun for me just to watch.
On Friday, we toured around Shrinagar. First, we went up into a famous hill station up in the mountains where we briefly wandered, took pictures, and did a bit of shopping. Anya bargained hard for a shawl, while I managed to get material for a wool salwar kameez at a cheaper price than her shawl without even bargaining. I guess because shawls were in higher demand, he felt like he could raise the price, where as fabric wasn't as much.
After that, we got back in the bus and drove to the mountains on the other side of Shrinagar. There, we visited two Mughal era gardens and their temples. What surprised me most about the gardens was that most of the flowers were types that I see frequently back at home in Minnesota, suggesting that the climate here is very similar to that back home.
Kashmir, despite the mountains, reminds me a lot of home in a way. Something about the trees turning yellow, the crisp cool air, and something else I can't put my finger on all adds to the feeling of me being close to home.
After the gardens, we went to Lake Dal and hired small boats to take us around the lake. They had canopies and soft seats enough for four passengers. It was incredibly relaxing to be rowed across the still water. The peace was broken, however, by a floating marketplace. The lake was filled with vendors in their own boats selling everything from saffron to jewelry to tea to shawls. Unlike those on the side of the road, you couldn't run away from these. You had to convince them firmly that you really, really had no intention of buying what they had.
Our guide took us past a lotus patch. The flowers weren't in season, but it was still pretty stunning with all the huge leaves peaking up over the water. Then he offered to take us to a woodworking workshop and we accepted. When we pushed up to shore, a man was chiseling intricate flower and vine designs into a plank of chestnut wood. It appeared to be a cabinet door. He told us about the process and then took us up into the show room. It was almost like a museum, the craftsmanship on all of his pieces were so beautiful. I walked out with a few more inexpensive souvenirs to give as gifts. I know enough about woodworking myself to know that this man was a true artist with wood.
Hopping back into our boat, we floated slowly back across the lake, watching the sun set. It was really magical. We all wished that time would slow to a stop just so we could keep enjoying the beautiful view and gentle sway of the water.
From there, we went on a quick shopping trip in Shrinagar. There, I finally found myself a shawl I liked in nice teal and blue colors. We also happened across an English book store, where I picked up one of the Tolkien histories. We had little time left, so we hurried back to the bus and home for the night. Dinner came around 9:00. I thought that people in Himachal eat late, but it seems that the schedule is even later here in Kashmir.
At nearly all of our stops, a common tourist trap was a photography group that would dress up people in traditional Kashmiri clothes, have them pose with a gaudy basket of fake flowers, and take their picture. There was even a vendor boat or two out on Dal Lake taking pictures like this. While our little boat managed to escape them, nearly all the other Jagori women came home with photos of them dressed as Kashmiris.
On Saturday, we had more meetings all day. It was the most productive time for us and we got a lot done, including starting to restructure the responsibilities in our team. While some of the earlier sessions had left me with a sour taste in my mouth, I really feel like we made good progress and everyone understood each other. We finished off the night with some singing and dancing, as always.
An interesting point of note: in India, nuts are called 'dried fruit.' As we left the session tonight we were asked if we wanted some dried fruits. I happily responded that I'd love some dried mango, but was told that they only had almonds and walnuts. I wound up buying a bag of each anyway from the college cafeteria below where we had our sessions.
Kashmiri cuisine is very oily and consists of more beans and rice than Himchali cuisine does. What doesn't have oil usually has lots of ghee (purified butter). This has led to some stomach troubles for me, but I've learned what I can eat safely and what I can't. Thanks to my cousin Krista's training this summer of putting chili powder into absolutely everything we ate this summer, I no longer get an upset stomach whenever I eat spicy food, but oil and dairy still cause problems for me. My friends and I just laugh about my overly sensitive stomach. What else can you do when nature gives you troubles?
The trip back was mostly uneventful, but somehow longer. We must have taken a different route, making two middle-of-the-night bus changes. We left the hostel at about 9:30 AM on Sunday morning and arrived back in Rakkar at 5:45 AM on Monday morning, just in time to greet our landlady and hear the early morning worship music from the temple near by.
We took a few stops, but mostly pushed on to get back as soon as possible. I think everyone was secretly thinking of bathing with hot water, something we hadn't been able to do all week. On our way out of the valley where Shrinagar was, we got stopped at a check point. Unlike on our way in, but Roni and I were in the front of the bus. Roni was right in front of the door and the official noticed her right off, demanding a passport and having her fill out a form. Somehow, he didn't see me right across the aisle. The girls around me realized what was going on, and told me to quickly cover my head and face with my dupata and pretend to be sleep. They didn't want to have to take the extra time to have me fill out the paperwork too. Hiding like that, with the girls all giggling around me, I passed for an Indian.
We took a shopping stop once we were out of the valley, but in the market we stopped at, the shops were all mostly identical: baskets, dried fruit, ugly shawls, and souvenir cricket bats. It make all of us wish we had more time to shop in Shrinagar itself.
While there were ups and downs this last week, I'm glad I went. I got a much better feeling for what Jagori is about and how it works. Almost more importantly, I got to know the other Jagori staff that don't pass through the Knowledge Center. It took a while to break the ice because most of the staff assumed I spoke almost no Hindi. I have been shy of them because I was worried about not being able to hold a conversation. Vandana told me that had the effect of making them shy away from me, afraid that I didn't want to talk to them. I stubbornly worked on my Hindi all week and soon most of the staff realized that they could talk to me. Another side effect is that my Hindi improved greatly over the course of the retreat. It was the beginning of a lot of new friendsh
Monday, October 19, 2009
Deepawali Lights
This Saturday was Deepawali, the festival for Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth. Because of the holiday, I gave my students the day off and joined the celebrations myself. Deepawali is, above all, a beautiful holiday. Someone first explained it to me as the “Indian Christmas.”
The religious aspect of it is to welcome Lakshmi into your house. To do this, people light candles and little oil lamps and set them up all around their house. They drape garlands of marigolds over doors and windows and colorful Christmas lights wherever they can. In front of their doors, they draw or paint intricate designs to give a path for Lakshmi to the door, lining it with more candles.
For the more secular part, people blow off fire crackers, give gifts, and celebrate in all sorts of other ways.
As for me, I went with my friends to Sonia and Bryan's house where they were throwing a big party. After being introduced to the other guests, Sonia performed her puja (worship) for Lakshmi, which several of the guests took part in as well. After that was over, we were each handed a box of candles to decorate their patio and yard with. When all of the candles were lit—there must have been close to a hundred of them—it looked almost magical. Once that was done Bryan and Sonia brought out their fireworks. Unlike most locals who prefer firecrackers that mostly just make an earsplitting bang, Sonia had brought back real fireworks and fountains from the Punjab where she is from. It was pretty exciting and colorful, but one of the guest's three-year-old daughter was having some trouble coping with all the noise. Both she and Bryan and Sonia's equally harried dog took shelter inside on the sofa.
After most of the fireworks were done, we all migrated inside for a huge Punjabi dinner. The food was all fantastic and more than we all could eat. When dinner was wrapping up, I was asked to sing once again. This time, I suspected something like that would happen, so I came prepared with “Sure on this Shining Night.” It seemed appropriate. While it is still a little unnerving to be asked to sing on the spot, I'm gaining confidence with it, and even enjoying it. I will take my options to sing when I can. It's one thing to be 'that college student who can sing pretty well' hanging out around the Oberlin Conservatory, and entirely another to be 'the only girl in the village who can sing Western classical music.' It's somewhat liberating. I have a lot more fun singing when I don't have to worry about the critical ears of my listeners.
Unrelated but almost as exciting, I think I saw the Dali Lama by being in the right place at the right time this last Tuesday. I was on a bus coming back from Dharmsala when we encountered a huge traffic jam at the fork in the road where one leads back to Sidhbari and the other to Gagal. There were police officers everywhere, directing traffic off of the Gagal fork. Traffic was packed so tightly on the Sidhbari fork that it had completely come to a stop. My bus was more or less caught in the middle of the intersection, so I could see everything that went by.
Suddenly, one police car came up the Gagal fork by with sirens blaring, followed by a second. Behind them was a black jeep with a man in the front who was waving. My bus erupted into murmurs that made me wonder who it was I had just seen. Following the black car were two vans and a whole bush load of military police. After they passed, traffic slowly returned to normal and I eventually got home.
It wasn't until several days later when I related this incident to Anya and I found out who it was. Evidently, many people had gone to Dharmsala and waited on the road side just to catch a glimpse of him on his way up to McLeod Ganj. Here I just got lucky on my way back from a shopping trip. I'm hoping that sometime before I leave I will be able to hear him speak, rather than just a glimpse of him waving from a car.
The religious aspect of it is to welcome Lakshmi into your house. To do this, people light candles and little oil lamps and set them up all around their house. They drape garlands of marigolds over doors and windows and colorful Christmas lights wherever they can. In front of their doors, they draw or paint intricate designs to give a path for Lakshmi to the door, lining it with more candles.
For the more secular part, people blow off fire crackers, give gifts, and celebrate in all sorts of other ways.
As for me, I went with my friends to Sonia and Bryan's house where they were throwing a big party. After being introduced to the other guests, Sonia performed her puja (worship) for Lakshmi, which several of the guests took part in as well. After that was over, we were each handed a box of candles to decorate their patio and yard with. When all of the candles were lit—there must have been close to a hundred of them—it looked almost magical. Once that was done Bryan and Sonia brought out their fireworks. Unlike most locals who prefer firecrackers that mostly just make an earsplitting bang, Sonia had brought back real fireworks and fountains from the Punjab where she is from. It was pretty exciting and colorful, but one of the guest's three-year-old daughter was having some trouble coping with all the noise. Both she and Bryan and Sonia's equally harried dog took shelter inside on the sofa.
After most of the fireworks were done, we all migrated inside for a huge Punjabi dinner. The food was all fantastic and more than we all could eat. When dinner was wrapping up, I was asked to sing once again. This time, I suspected something like that would happen, so I came prepared with “Sure on this Shining Night.” It seemed appropriate. While it is still a little unnerving to be asked to sing on the spot, I'm gaining confidence with it, and even enjoying it. I will take my options to sing when I can. It's one thing to be 'that college student who can sing pretty well' hanging out around the Oberlin Conservatory, and entirely another to be 'the only girl in the village who can sing Western classical music.' It's somewhat liberating. I have a lot more fun singing when I don't have to worry about the critical ears of my listeners.
Unrelated but almost as exciting, I think I saw the Dali Lama by being in the right place at the right time this last Tuesday. I was on a bus coming back from Dharmsala when we encountered a huge traffic jam at the fork in the road where one leads back to Sidhbari and the other to Gagal. There were police officers everywhere, directing traffic off of the Gagal fork. Traffic was packed so tightly on the Sidhbari fork that it had completely come to a stop. My bus was more or less caught in the middle of the intersection, so I could see everything that went by.
Suddenly, one police car came up the Gagal fork by with sirens blaring, followed by a second. Behind them was a black jeep with a man in the front who was waving. My bus erupted into murmurs that made me wonder who it was I had just seen. Following the black car were two vans and a whole bush load of military police. After they passed, traffic slowly returned to normal and I eventually got home.
It wasn't until several days later when I related this incident to Anya and I found out who it was. Evidently, many people had gone to Dharmsala and waited on the road side just to catch a glimpse of him on his way up to McLeod Ganj. Here I just got lucky on my way back from a shopping trip. I'm hoping that sometime before I leave I will be able to hear him speak, rather than just a glimpse of him waving from a car.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Birthday Parties
First off, I want to thank everyone for the birthday well-wishes. I did have a fun weekend.
While the party the evening of my actual birthday wasn't exactly my kind of party there was lots of good food and singing. Because I had to teach that day, I chose to wear my nicest salwar kameez suit as a private celebration.
Didi's party the next day, however, was a blast. It ran from 11:30 a.m. until at least 5:30 that night. In a corner of Didipur, they had set up a large tent filled with tables and chairs. In the end, there were more people there than chairs. I would believe that she had almost the estimated 100 people there. The highlights of the day were the food and performances. There was a large buffet filled with all of Didi's favorite dishes. I have to say, Didi has good taste in food. I think my favorite there was a paneer (Indian cottage cheese) and peas dish that puffed lotus seeds in it. I've never had lotus seeds before, and apparently they're reserved for special occasions only.
Even more spectacular was the double-tiered chocolate cake so large that it had to be carried in on its own table. It was decorated with chocolate flowers and sculptures of ducks and geese. It was really the most amazing cake I have ever seen and one of the best I have ever eaten. Along with the cake, was vanilla and butterscotch ice cream, which was a very nice treat. Since most people don't even have refrigerators, you don't get ice cream very awesome. When I heard this cake and ice cream was coming, I started to wonder just how it could be served to 100 people in an environmentally friendly way. The answer was leaf bowls. Like the leaf plates I ate on at the village feast, these were made of large fresh leaves stitched together with what looked like tiny toothpicks. I really think the rest of the world could take a lesson from leaf dishes. It's much more sustainable than paper plates or Styrofoam ones.
As to entertainment, a couple of songs were sung for Didi. One of the other guests was a Tibetan woman from McLeod Ganj who was a very talented singer. Just before she started to sing, Anya asked me if I could sing something for Didi as well, so I had just a few minutes to pull something together, which I was glad to do. If it was ever a secret to begin with, the fact that I am a decent Western classical singer is very public knowledge now. And here I was worried about having opportunities to sing here. I need to practice a bit more though so I don't keep singing the same two songs every time anyone asks me.
After the singing, there was a short clown show. Dr. Barbara has some friends from Germany in an avocational clown troupe that she invited to come and do a tour of performances in the area. As it happened, their tour just began, so they were invited to come perform at Didi's party as well. It really made for an exciting event.
The party was also a great place to meet interesting people. I got to talk to Sister Celia about what it's like being a Catholic missionary in a heavily Hindu area and what brought her here. I met a few clients of Didi's who just moved back from living in Bloomington, Minnesota (where my dad grew up). They had been electrical engineers trained at Iowa State University in Ames, Iowa (where my mom grew up). We had a great time exchanging nostalgia for Minnesota. Right now, Didi is building a house for them and they invited me to come visit them once their house is done. It's funny how one can find a little piece of home no matter where you go in the world.
While the party the evening of my actual birthday wasn't exactly my kind of party there was lots of good food and singing. Because I had to teach that day, I chose to wear my nicest salwar kameez suit as a private celebration.
Didi's party the next day, however, was a blast. It ran from 11:30 a.m. until at least 5:30 that night. In a corner of Didipur, they had set up a large tent filled with tables and chairs. In the end, there were more people there than chairs. I would believe that she had almost the estimated 100 people there. The highlights of the day were the food and performances. There was a large buffet filled with all of Didi's favorite dishes. I have to say, Didi has good taste in food. I think my favorite there was a paneer (Indian cottage cheese) and peas dish that puffed lotus seeds in it. I've never had lotus seeds before, and apparently they're reserved for special occasions only.
Even more spectacular was the double-tiered chocolate cake so large that it had to be carried in on its own table. It was decorated with chocolate flowers and sculptures of ducks and geese. It was really the most amazing cake I have ever seen and one of the best I have ever eaten. Along with the cake, was vanilla and butterscotch ice cream, which was a very nice treat. Since most people don't even have refrigerators, you don't get ice cream very awesome. When I heard this cake and ice cream was coming, I started to wonder just how it could be served to 100 people in an environmentally friendly way. The answer was leaf bowls. Like the leaf plates I ate on at the village feast, these were made of large fresh leaves stitched together with what looked like tiny toothpicks. I really think the rest of the world could take a lesson from leaf dishes. It's much more sustainable than paper plates or Styrofoam ones.
As to entertainment, a couple of songs were sung for Didi. One of the other guests was a Tibetan woman from McLeod Ganj who was a very talented singer. Just before she started to sing, Anya asked me if I could sing something for Didi as well, so I had just a few minutes to pull something together, which I was glad to do. If it was ever a secret to begin with, the fact that I am a decent Western classical singer is very public knowledge now. And here I was worried about having opportunities to sing here. I need to practice a bit more though so I don't keep singing the same two songs every time anyone asks me.
After the singing, there was a short clown show. Dr. Barbara has some friends from Germany in an avocational clown troupe that she invited to come and do a tour of performances in the area. As it happened, their tour just began, so they were invited to come perform at Didi's party as well. It really made for an exciting event.
The party was also a great place to meet interesting people. I got to talk to Sister Celia about what it's like being a Catholic missionary in a heavily Hindu area and what brought her here. I met a few clients of Didi's who just moved back from living in Bloomington, Minnesota (where my dad grew up). They had been electrical engineers trained at Iowa State University in Ames, Iowa (where my mom grew up). We had a great time exchanging nostalgia for Minnesota. Right now, Didi is building a house for them and they invited me to come visit them once their house is done. It's funny how one can find a little piece of home no matter where you go in the world.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Reason to Party
Life has been pretty quiet lately, but this weekend is sure to get exciting, namely because of birthdays. Didi's 80th birthday is tomorrow. Phillip, the Austrian volunteer at Nishta, is also turning 20 tomorrow. Add me to the mix, turning 23 today, and Anya's grandma whose birthday was on Wednesday, and there's plenty of reason to party.
Didi is throwing a huge party tomorrow with as many as 100 guests expected. She has, however, thrown all the rest of us with birthdays around now on the bill of guests of honor. Druv, another one of Anya's neighbors, planned to throw a young people birthday party tonight for Phillip. Upon finding out that he was throwing a party for Phillip on my birthday, it became my birthday party too. Wanting to do something special myself, I invited some friends to join me for dinner at a delicious little Japanese restaurant up in McLeod Ganj last night. It wasn't much of a party, in a sense, but it was still a lovely evening.
Stepping backwards, since I teach today but had yesterday off, I decided to get all my lesson planning done the day before and give myself a fun day. First, I went up to Dharmsala with Roni to go fabric shopping. It was super fun to go from shop to shop and see what each had in stock. After about an hour of this, I came out with makings for two new suits and five meters of an ugly yet cheap fabric to make a mock-up of a costume I am planning. (Finally getting some thread, I turned the hem of the dupata that the tailor had surged in white. I forgot just how calming hand sewing is for me and I look forward to having a project to work on.)
I had never been fabric shopping myself before, so it was a fun adventure. The first suit makings I got were already in a set. It's sage green and sort of straw color. Very pretty. The second suit was at a store that had some by-the-meter fabric. I found a very nice sky blue with gold swirls on it to make a cameez (tunic shirt) and a matching sheer fabric that faded form that blue to purple and fuchsia for the dupata (scarf). The salwar (pants) fabric that went with it had rather ugly flowers on it, so I decided to play mix-and-match. I found a really nice light lavender fabric that I liked, but there wasn't enough on the bolt to make a pair of salwar. The shopkeeper then tried to convince me to pick all sorts of pink and blue fabrics instead, but none of them really fit with what I wanted. After arguing with him for quite some time, he finally left the shop and shortly returned with a full bolt of the same lavender. “From my other shop,” he explained. Why didn't he do that to begin with?
After that, I went up to McLeod Ganj to meet Anya's grandparents. They just arrived up here on Thursday night, and, since Anya had to teach yesterday, she suggested that I go hang out with them for the afternoon. They really are wonderful people, over eighty years old and in fantastic shape from doing daily yoga and long walks. Her grandma almost out-walked me. Her grandpa is Indian from Mumbai, a retired engineer, and her grandma is a retired art historian. Between the two of them, I got great explanations of the temples that we visited, historically, artistically, and religiously.
We had lunch at a little coffee shop while we hunted through their travel guide for something to do. We eventually settled on a nice walk to the next town over, Bhagsu. It was about 4km round trip and very pretty. We wound up at a Shiva temple that was partly under construction, but it did have a swimming pool (for ritual washing, I assume). There was also a waterfall on the mountainside beyond the temple. We didn't walk all the way up to it, but we did get a pretty good look from the exit of the temple. Upon returning to McLeod Ganj, we bought some postcards and sat at another coffee shop, drinking lassis and writing postcards until Anya arrived after work.
Once Anya got there, we ran into Phillip at a book store and headed to the Japanese restaurant Lung Ta (definitely not a Japanese name). Vandana and Roni met us there later. The food was absolutely delicious and Anya's grandparents treated us all, since it was a birthday celebration. After dinner, we moved onto Nick's Italian Kitchen for dessert where we had a nut brownie with ice cream and chocolate sauce (the best thing on their dessert menu, I think.) By that time, it was late, so we got a taxi and headed home. It was a great way to spend my pre-birthday.
Today, to celebrate, I decided to wear my nice suit. It is a special occasion after all. I've come to realize that it's really up to you to make your birthday exciting, so I'm doing well so far. Vandana and Devika came over this morning to wish me a happy birthday. They had made me breakfast and gave me a box of tea bags as a gift. It was all delicious. Vandana also stuck her head into my class this morning and announced that it was my birthday, prompting congratulations from my students. I really am growing to love my students and teaching their classes.
So far, the weekend is off to a good start. We'll see how the rest of the parties go. In the mean time, I need to make some cards for Phillip and Didi.
Didi is throwing a huge party tomorrow with as many as 100 guests expected. She has, however, thrown all the rest of us with birthdays around now on the bill of guests of honor. Druv, another one of Anya's neighbors, planned to throw a young people birthday party tonight for Phillip. Upon finding out that he was throwing a party for Phillip on my birthday, it became my birthday party too. Wanting to do something special myself, I invited some friends to join me for dinner at a delicious little Japanese restaurant up in McLeod Ganj last night. It wasn't much of a party, in a sense, but it was still a lovely evening.
Stepping backwards, since I teach today but had yesterday off, I decided to get all my lesson planning done the day before and give myself a fun day. First, I went up to Dharmsala with Roni to go fabric shopping. It was super fun to go from shop to shop and see what each had in stock. After about an hour of this, I came out with makings for two new suits and five meters of an ugly yet cheap fabric to make a mock-up of a costume I am planning. (Finally getting some thread, I turned the hem of the dupata that the tailor had surged in white. I forgot just how calming hand sewing is for me and I look forward to having a project to work on.)
I had never been fabric shopping myself before, so it was a fun adventure. The first suit makings I got were already in a set. It's sage green and sort of straw color. Very pretty. The second suit was at a store that had some by-the-meter fabric. I found a very nice sky blue with gold swirls on it to make a cameez (tunic shirt) and a matching sheer fabric that faded form that blue to purple and fuchsia for the dupata (scarf). The salwar (pants) fabric that went with it had rather ugly flowers on it, so I decided to play mix-and-match. I found a really nice light lavender fabric that I liked, but there wasn't enough on the bolt to make a pair of salwar. The shopkeeper then tried to convince me to pick all sorts of pink and blue fabrics instead, but none of them really fit with what I wanted. After arguing with him for quite some time, he finally left the shop and shortly returned with a full bolt of the same lavender. “From my other shop,” he explained. Why didn't he do that to begin with?
After that, I went up to McLeod Ganj to meet Anya's grandparents. They just arrived up here on Thursday night, and, since Anya had to teach yesterday, she suggested that I go hang out with them for the afternoon. They really are wonderful people, over eighty years old and in fantastic shape from doing daily yoga and long walks. Her grandma almost out-walked me. Her grandpa is Indian from Mumbai, a retired engineer, and her grandma is a retired art historian. Between the two of them, I got great explanations of the temples that we visited, historically, artistically, and religiously.
We had lunch at a little coffee shop while we hunted through their travel guide for something to do. We eventually settled on a nice walk to the next town over, Bhagsu. It was about 4km round trip and very pretty. We wound up at a Shiva temple that was partly under construction, but it did have a swimming pool (for ritual washing, I assume). There was also a waterfall on the mountainside beyond the temple. We didn't walk all the way up to it, but we did get a pretty good look from the exit of the temple. Upon returning to McLeod Ganj, we bought some postcards and sat at another coffee shop, drinking lassis and writing postcards until Anya arrived after work.
Once Anya got there, we ran into Phillip at a book store and headed to the Japanese restaurant Lung Ta (definitely not a Japanese name). Vandana and Roni met us there later. The food was absolutely delicious and Anya's grandparents treated us all, since it was a birthday celebration. After dinner, we moved onto Nick's Italian Kitchen for dessert where we had a nut brownie with ice cream and chocolate sauce (the best thing on their dessert menu, I think.) By that time, it was late, so we got a taxi and headed home. It was a great way to spend my pre-birthday.
Today, to celebrate, I decided to wear my nice suit. It is a special occasion after all. I've come to realize that it's really up to you to make your birthday exciting, so I'm doing well so far. Vandana and Devika came over this morning to wish me a happy birthday. They had made me breakfast and gave me a box of tea bags as a gift. It was all delicious. Vandana also stuck her head into my class this morning and announced that it was my birthday, prompting congratulations from my students. I really am growing to love my students and teaching their classes.
So far, the weekend is off to a good start. We'll see how the rest of the parties go. In the mean time, I need to make some cards for Phillip and Didi.
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