I'm definitely struggling right now. I'm feeling left out, disappointed, and defeated. And it doesn't help that I have another cold. I was so excited to get out of town and see the rest of India. I think I just don't like Bangalore that much. It is a nice enough city and good for first-time visitors, but it is so Westernized that it has lost a lot of its original culture. I don't really feel like I'm in India. I was looking forward to the upcoming travel opportunities, hoping that I could see a real part of India. Now it feels like it is all spinning out of control and I don't have the power to stop it. In the beginning, the plan was to go to Kerala for Spring Break and then during our three-week travel period, we would circle around Northern India. My travel companions and I were starting to plan things out and everything seemed great. Suddenly, last week, I find out that they decided instead of going to Kerala for Spring Break, they've decided to go to Delhi and Rajasthan and leave Kerala for after classes, to go along with our North East portion of the trip. Okay, I could deal with that. I was a little annoyed that no one asked me about it, but whatever. But it just keeps getting worse. Now they've decided that they want to spend two days in Delhi/Agra and the rest of the break on a camel safari in Rajasthan. Everyone seems to be ignoring the fact that I would like to see other cities in Rajasthan, and that I don't want to go on a five day camel ride. I would be okay with two days, because it would be an interesting experience and a good story to tell. But what is so appealing about spending five days in the desert, on a camel, in 90 degree heat? But instead of compromising, all they tell me is: "Well, you can find a hotel to stay in and we'll come pick you up when we're done." Why the hell would I want to spend the little money I have to spend five days by myself in a state where it isn't advisable for women to travel alone? That would mean spending the majority of my Spring Break cooped up in a hotel room.
Now they're planning a couple of weekend trips for the next two weekends and the only reason I know about them is because they mentioned something to each other and I asked what they were talking about. The three of them are hunched over books and computers and have never once asked me what I think, or really even if I wanted to go there.
So I don't know what I'm going to do. I might go on the weekend trips. For Spring Break, I might just fly to Delhi with them, travel to Rajasthan, then split up. I'll go see Jaipur for a day or two and then fly back to Bangalore and do some volunteer work or something. It just breaks my heart a little. I was looking so forward to planning out trips with my friends and now it seems like they are planning out trips and I can tag along if I want. There is no compromise; majority rules. I've found myself counting down the days until I get to go home, which isn't how I wanted to remember India. This isn't what I want to tell people when I get back. But what other choice do I have? It isn't safe to travel alone and all the other groups are either planning trips I'm not interested in or I just really don't like the people in the groups.
Well, we'll see what happens. It sounds like Spring Break is going to suck, but I still have hope for our three-week trip. Maybe that will turn out okay. Maybe I'll actually be included in the planning, since portions of it were my idea to begin with. I'm sorry to dump all this bitterness on you all. I'm just having a rough week and all I want to do is go back to Washington and cry. And stop being sick constantly.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
A Shopaholic's Adventures in Bangalore
Okay, so Julie wanted me to write something about the clothes here. Here you go Julie, this is for you:
One thing I have truly enjoyed about India is the shopping. I spend a lot of money on clothes as it is, but that money can get me so much more here! There are three styles that you will often see in India:
Salwar Kameez- The Salwar Kameez is a three-piece set. There is a salwar, baggy, loose-fitting pants. On top we wear a kurta, which is a tunic that usually goes down to mid-thigh or even the tops of your knees. The third piece is a dupatta, or a long scarf which is draped either on one shoulder or (more often) around your neck so the ends are trailing behind you. I think the dupatta is needed to complete the outfit, but they are usually a big pain in the butt. They tend to fall off or end up dragging on the floor.
Churidar Set- The Churidar set is just like a Salwar-Kameez, except instead of the salwar, you wear a churidar. Churidars are pants that bunch up at the ankles. Most look like ridiculously long leggings. They are tight everywhere and scrunched up at the bottom. Some are loose-fitting on top until just above the knee, when it gets tighter. Those are not very flattering. They tend to be too loose and the stitching is very odd and unflattering. It feels more like wearing long underwear.
Sari/Saree- The style of clothing that most foreigners think of when they think of India is the Sari (or Saree). The Sari is a long piece of cloth, usually about nine yards. It is wrapped around your waist a few times, bunched into a cute little fan shape that is tucked in front, and then thrown over your shoulder. Usually the sari is wrapped so the pallu (the decorative end which is meant to be seen) is behind you. It can also be worn in front, or even as a head covering. Underneath the sari there is an underskirt and a choli, which is a midriff-baring, short-sleeved blouse .
All three styles come in a variety of fabrics and styles. Usually the Salwar-kameez and the churidar sets are cotton and the saris are usually cotton or silk. They can range from incredibly plain, to the most exquisite, intricate craftsmanship you have ever seen. India is known for their textiles and there is a reason for that: they are amazing.
Thanks to Kelsey for the wonderful pictures.
One thing I have truly enjoyed about India is the shopping. I spend a lot of money on clothes as it is, but that money can get me so much more here! There are three styles that you will often see in India:
Salwar Kameez- The Salwar Kameez is a three-piece set. There is a salwar, baggy, loose-fitting pants. On top we wear a kurta, which is a tunic that usually goes down to mid-thigh or even the tops of your knees. The third piece is a dupatta, or a long scarf which is draped either on one shoulder or (more often) around your neck so the ends are trailing behind you. I think the dupatta is needed to complete the outfit, but they are usually a big pain in the butt. They tend to fall off or end up dragging on the floor.
Churidar Set- The Churidar set is just like a Salwar-Kameez, except instead of the salwar, you wear a churidar. Churidars are pants that bunch up at the ankles. Most look like ridiculously long leggings. They are tight everywhere and scrunched up at the bottom. Some are loose-fitting on top until just above the knee, when it gets tighter. Those are not very flattering. They tend to be too loose and the stitching is very odd and unflattering. It feels more like wearing long underwear.
Sari/Saree- The style of clothing that most foreigners think of when they think of India is the Sari (or Saree). The Sari is a long piece of cloth, usually about nine yards. It is wrapped around your waist a few times, bunched into a cute little fan shape that is tucked in front, and then thrown over your shoulder. Usually the sari is wrapped so the pallu (the decorative end which is meant to be seen) is behind you. It can also be worn in front, or even as a head covering. Underneath the sari there is an underskirt and a choli, which is a midriff-baring, short-sleeved blouse .
All three styles come in a variety of fabrics and styles. Usually the Salwar-kameez and the churidar sets are cotton and the saris are usually cotton or silk. They can range from incredibly plain, to the most exquisite, intricate craftsmanship you have ever seen. India is known for their textiles and there is a reason for that: they are amazing.
Thanks to Kelsey for the wonderful pictures.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
So Fresh and So Clean(ish)
Anthony requested that I write about my experiences in Indian markets, so here goes:
A couple weekends ago, the USAC group took a little field trip to some major religious spots in Bangalore. Our first stop was at St. Mary's Basilica. Across the street was a large market. After we finished taking pictures of the church, we decided to explore the market.
In the beginning, it was just a normal market. People set up little stands with fruits, vegetables, and flowers to sell to the public. Nothing too special. The only odd thing was that we became a sort of tourist attraction. Many of the students were taking pictures of all the little stands, and we noticed that there was a scattered crowd of people around us and they were using their cell phones to take pictures of us while we were taking pictures. That was new, and odd, but nothing too scary. We moved on and walked deeper into the market. In the beginning, it actually reminded me a lot of Pike Place Market. There were big stands of fish and when you walked down the street, you could smell them long before you saw them. It was a nice reminder of home. I kept waiting for someone to throw a fish, but was disappointed.
Something I noticed about Indian markets is that while their meats might be fresh, they won't stay fresh for long. We rarely saw any ice or ways to refrigerate the fish and meat. That accounts for some of the smell and doesn't exactly make my mouth water.
Next, we went into the meat market. We were told it is best to just leave our cameras in our bags for that stretch. Parts of the meat market are fine, but if you pass anyone selling beef, they get really pissy about people taking pictures of them. They have been known to throw a bone or two at nosy tourists with cameras. So I kept my camera in my bag. I don't think it is anything any of you would want to see anyways. We walked in and saw rows and rows of what looked like sheep. They were skinned and gutted, and the corpses were left hanging off of hooks on a conveyor belt. Again, no refrigeration, no covers, the workers didn't even wear hair nets or booties. Not very appetizing. I'm pretty sure they don't slaughter the goats and sheep there and it is illegal to slaughter cows in Karnataka, so we didn't have to see that part of the whole process. We did see a few shops selling chicken and duck though. There are dozens of cages outside the shops, each one packed with chickens, ducks, and even the occasional goose. They slaughter, pluck, and gut the birds right there. If you don't watch out, your shoes will get a little dirty. The vegetarians were, of course, indignant. The rest of us were just a bit grossed out. I am well aware of where meat comes from, I just don't want to see it.
When we left the meat market, we were greeted by the sweet relief of the produce market. The flower stands are beautiful. Huge flower garlands hang from the ceiling and you can see almost every kind of flower. The owners kept handing us little flowers to put in our hair. The fruit stands are so nice. Everything looks perfect and smells so good. There are piles of melons, apples, oranges, kiwis, bananas, and the more exotic fruits of India. Even thinking about it makes me crave fruit.
I think the part of the market that disturbed me most was not the meat market or the poultry shops. It was the pet shop. When we first walked up, I saw birds and thought it was a more exotic poultry shop. Our resident director told us it was a pet shop, but Americans would call it a pet mill. Wire cages were stacked on top of each other, each holding multiple cats, dogs, rabbits, or birds. One cage had six or seven puppies that weren't even old enough to open their eyes yet. They were all crying and yelping and I didn't know how to feel. Part of me loved seeing so many cute little faces, but the other part of me knew that this wasn't right. None of those animals were living in proper conditions. I also noticed that they were all babies. There wasn't a single adult cat or dog in the group. What happens when these animals grow up and aren't sold? Part of me was happy that these animals were being given a chance at a good life. There are so many animals on the streets here that it is good to see that maybe these animals will find a home and a family to love them. The other part of me wonders if growing up crowded in those cages is any better than growing up on the street. All I know is that I want to go back and buy a kitten and/or a puppy just to get them out of the cage and stop them from crying.
So, Indian markets are not necessarily the delight that you might have thought they were, Anthony. They are an interesting experience and show the Indian mind-set when it comes to food. Indians tend to prefer freshness while Americans prefer to be in the dark when it comes to where their food comes from.
A couple weekends ago, the USAC group took a little field trip to some major religious spots in Bangalore. Our first stop was at St. Mary's Basilica. Across the street was a large market. After we finished taking pictures of the church, we decided to explore the market.
In the beginning, it was just a normal market. People set up little stands with fruits, vegetables, and flowers to sell to the public. Nothing too special. The only odd thing was that we became a sort of tourist attraction. Many of the students were taking pictures of all the little stands, and we noticed that there was a scattered crowd of people around us and they were using their cell phones to take pictures of us while we were taking pictures. That was new, and odd, but nothing too scary. We moved on and walked deeper into the market. In the beginning, it actually reminded me a lot of Pike Place Market. There were big stands of fish and when you walked down the street, you could smell them long before you saw them. It was a nice reminder of home. I kept waiting for someone to throw a fish, but was disappointed.
Something I noticed about Indian markets is that while their meats might be fresh, they won't stay fresh for long. We rarely saw any ice or ways to refrigerate the fish and meat. That accounts for some of the smell and doesn't exactly make my mouth water.
Next, we went into the meat market. We were told it is best to just leave our cameras in our bags for that stretch. Parts of the meat market are fine, but if you pass anyone selling beef, they get really pissy about people taking pictures of them. They have been known to throw a bone or two at nosy tourists with cameras. So I kept my camera in my bag. I don't think it is anything any of you would want to see anyways. We walked in and saw rows and rows of what looked like sheep. They were skinned and gutted, and the corpses were left hanging off of hooks on a conveyor belt. Again, no refrigeration, no covers, the workers didn't even wear hair nets or booties. Not very appetizing. I'm pretty sure they don't slaughter the goats and sheep there and it is illegal to slaughter cows in Karnataka, so we didn't have to see that part of the whole process. We did see a few shops selling chicken and duck though. There are dozens of cages outside the shops, each one packed with chickens, ducks, and even the occasional goose. They slaughter, pluck, and gut the birds right there. If you don't watch out, your shoes will get a little dirty. The vegetarians were, of course, indignant. The rest of us were just a bit grossed out. I am well aware of where meat comes from, I just don't want to see it.
When we left the meat market, we were greeted by the sweet relief of the produce market. The flower stands are beautiful. Huge flower garlands hang from the ceiling and you can see almost every kind of flower. The owners kept handing us little flowers to put in our hair. The fruit stands are so nice. Everything looks perfect and smells so good. There are piles of melons, apples, oranges, kiwis, bananas, and the more exotic fruits of India. Even thinking about it makes me crave fruit.
I think the part of the market that disturbed me most was not the meat market or the poultry shops. It was the pet shop. When we first walked up, I saw birds and thought it was a more exotic poultry shop. Our resident director told us it was a pet shop, but Americans would call it a pet mill. Wire cages were stacked on top of each other, each holding multiple cats, dogs, rabbits, or birds. One cage had six or seven puppies that weren't even old enough to open their eyes yet. They were all crying and yelping and I didn't know how to feel. Part of me loved seeing so many cute little faces, but the other part of me knew that this wasn't right. None of those animals were living in proper conditions. I also noticed that they were all babies. There wasn't a single adult cat or dog in the group. What happens when these animals grow up and aren't sold? Part of me was happy that these animals were being given a chance at a good life. There are so many animals on the streets here that it is good to see that maybe these animals will find a home and a family to love them. The other part of me wonders if growing up crowded in those cages is any better than growing up on the street. All I know is that I want to go back and buy a kitten and/or a puppy just to get them out of the cage and stop them from crying.
So, Indian markets are not necessarily the delight that you might have thought they were, Anthony. They are an interesting experience and show the Indian mind-set when it comes to food. Indians tend to prefer freshness while Americans prefer to be in the dark when it comes to where their food comes from.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Eww
Ugh…I don't think I have ever been so sick in my life. I am the first in my apartment to officially get the whole "Delhi belly" thing. We went to a restaurant for dinner and I just wanted something simple and familiar. I ordered a toasted cheese sandwich (more like a cheese panini than a grilled cheese), tomato soup, and orange juice. The sandwich was really good, the soup was spicy and not very good, and the orange juice was amazing. I thought it was a success. Not so much…
I woke up at about 5 o'clock in the morning with nausea and cramps. I spent the rest of the morning sick to my stomach, carrying a bucket with me around the apartment in case I had an urgent need to vomit. I have never wanted to be home so bad. India is a hard country to be sick in. They don't have Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup, saltine crackers, or easy access to flu medicine. The beds are rock hard and the furniture is wicker. I really just wanted to be home in my bed. Luckily, I have two amazing roommates who took good care of me.
The nausea calmed down sometime in the early afternoon, which was such a relief. A day later, I still feel really weak and can't eat much, but the Delhi belly has passed. It was awful and a very long morning, but I can now say that I have truly experienced India.
I woke up at about 5 o'clock in the morning with nausea and cramps. I spent the rest of the morning sick to my stomach, carrying a bucket with me around the apartment in case I had an urgent need to vomit. I have never wanted to be home so bad. India is a hard country to be sick in. They don't have Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup, saltine crackers, or easy access to flu medicine. The beds are rock hard and the furniture is wicker. I really just wanted to be home in my bed. Luckily, I have two amazing roommates who took good care of me.
The nausea calmed down sometime in the early afternoon, which was such a relief. A day later, I still feel really weak and can't eat much, but the Delhi belly has passed. It was awful and a very long morning, but I can now say that I have truly experienced India.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
A Streetcar Named... "Holy Crap, Are You Gonna Stop!?!"
I've never considered myself to be much of a risk-taker. I've always been cautious and have never felt the urge to put my life in danger for a rush of adrenaline. Living in Bangalore though, I risk my life everyday. No, I'm not talking about terrorism or kidnapping or being carried away by a giant mosquito. I'm talking about crossing the streets of Bangalore. Laugh all you like, it is a terrifying experience. Indian streets are like little, linear worlds of chaos. Motorcycles and rickshaws dart in and out of traffic, families of three or even four are piled onto a single bike, and driving into oncoming traffic is no big deal. There is an entire language of honking. People honk when they're passing, when someone is in the way, when another car is about to hit them, or sometimes they honk just for the sake of honking. It is very interesting (and noisy).
Crossing the street is like playing a real-life game of Frogger. There are four lanes of traffic and the idea of stopping for a pedestrian is merely a suggestion. To cross, one has to wait until there is a gap, run across the first lane, stop at the center line, wait for another gap, cross to the median, and do the whole thing over again. You can try to wait until there is a lull in traffic, but during rush hour you just have to go and pray that they stop for you, or at least go around you.
Crossing the street is like playing a real-life game of Frogger. There are four lanes of traffic and the idea of stopping for a pedestrian is merely a suggestion. To cross, one has to wait until there is a gap, run across the first lane, stop at the center line, wait for another gap, cross to the median, and do the whole thing over again. You can try to wait until there is a lull in traffic, but during rush hour you just have to go and pray that they stop for you, or at least go around you.
Monday, January 25, 2010
I'm Not Dead Yet
I'm here! I'm alive! I finally have internet! Yes, I know I have been in Bangalore for two weeks already, but I'm going to start from the beginning:
Plane rides are not the most comfortable experience in the world. The seats are cramped, the food is bad, the bathrooms are nasty and you're stuck making awkward conversation with your neighbors. Now, imagine dealing with all of this for twenty-four hours. Oh yes, not fun. The first leg of the trip was a 15-hour flight to Hong Kong. I was in seat 48F. I had an Indian guy on my right and an old Sikh couple on my left. Both men seemed to believe that they had the right to both arm rests. At one point, both of them fell asleep leaning in my direction. It was a bit cramped and very awkward. All in all though, the flight could have been a lot worse. Cathay Pacific had enough movies and TV shows to keep me occupied almost the entire time.
When we finally landed in Hong Kong, I got to meet the rest of the USAC people on the group flight. All of my flat-mates were there so it was nice to have that time to talk to them. The second leg of the flight, I'm glad to say, was way better. It was a seven-hour flight and, once again, I was in seat 48F. This time, however, fate took pity on me. I was the only person in my row. I got to spread out across the four empty seats and sleep for the entire flight. It was wonderful!
When we got off the plane and finished with customs, we left the front door and got our first look at India. My first impression was that it was not what I expected. People tell stories about arriving in India and talk about being drenched with sweat in minutes and the smell of sewage greeting you at the doors. In reality, the air was fresh and while there was more humidity than Spokane, it wasn't unbearable. Apparently 2:00 in the morning is the perfect time to arrive in Bangalore.
It was late, we were all exhausted, but after 10 months of waiting, I was finally in India.
Plane rides are not the most comfortable experience in the world. The seats are cramped, the food is bad, the bathrooms are nasty and you're stuck making awkward conversation with your neighbors. Now, imagine dealing with all of this for twenty-four hours. Oh yes, not fun. The first leg of the trip was a 15-hour flight to Hong Kong. I was in seat 48F. I had an Indian guy on my right and an old Sikh couple on my left. Both men seemed to believe that they had the right to both arm rests. At one point, both of them fell asleep leaning in my direction. It was a bit cramped and very awkward. All in all though, the flight could have been a lot worse. Cathay Pacific had enough movies and TV shows to keep me occupied almost the entire time.
When we finally landed in Hong Kong, I got to meet the rest of the USAC people on the group flight. All of my flat-mates were there so it was nice to have that time to talk to them. The second leg of the flight, I'm glad to say, was way better. It was a seven-hour flight and, once again, I was in seat 48F. This time, however, fate took pity on me. I was the only person in my row. I got to spread out across the four empty seats and sleep for the entire flight. It was wonderful!
When we got off the plane and finished with customs, we left the front door and got our first look at India. My first impression was that it was not what I expected. People tell stories about arriving in India and talk about being drenched with sweat in minutes and the smell of sewage greeting you at the doors. In reality, the air was fresh and while there was more humidity than Spokane, it wasn't unbearable. Apparently 2:00 in the morning is the perfect time to arrive in Bangalore.
It was late, we were all exhausted, but after 10 months of waiting, I was finally in India.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Be Sure to Wear Some Flowers In Your Hair
I know, I know. I promised more updates and I lied. Who would have thought that working part-time at Macy's would be so exhausting.
I'm on my way. I flew to San Francisco this morning. From Spokane to Las Vegas and from Las Vegas to San Francisco. Not too bad, especially considering that the next leg of my trip will take 24 hours.
So far I feel...okay. I did better than I thought on the plane over. I thought I would be much more freaked out. Now I'm starting to get a bit more panicky. I'm in a hostel now and while it is very nice, one of my roommates seems a bit scary. Not a student, more like an old homeless lady. I'm sitting in a lounge area because I don't want to stay in my room. I feel out of place and at this moment I just want to go home. I wish I had sprung for a single room.
Oh well, I'll be fine. I definitely won't be getting much sleep this week. I don't land in Bangalore until 1:30 am Monday morning and have to be up and ready for orientation at 8:30 am. I'll be exhausted and I'm sure I'll be a sobbing mess by the end of the week. Don't be too freaked out by that. Things will start to calm down after the first week is over. I'll be able to sleep and will begin adjusting to everyday life in Bangalore.
Talk to you when I get there!
I'm on my way. I flew to San Francisco this morning. From Spokane to Las Vegas and from Las Vegas to San Francisco. Not too bad, especially considering that the next leg of my trip will take 24 hours.
So far I feel...okay. I did better than I thought on the plane over. I thought I would be much more freaked out. Now I'm starting to get a bit more panicky. I'm in a hostel now and while it is very nice, one of my roommates seems a bit scary. Not a student, more like an old homeless lady. I'm sitting in a lounge area because I don't want to stay in my room. I feel out of place and at this moment I just want to go home. I wish I had sprung for a single room.
Oh well, I'll be fine. I definitely won't be getting much sleep this week. I don't land in Bangalore until 1:30 am Monday morning and have to be up and ready for orientation at 8:30 am. I'll be exhausted and I'm sure I'll be a sobbing mess by the end of the week. Don't be too freaked out by that. Things will start to calm down after the first week is over. I'll be able to sleep and will begin adjusting to everyday life in Bangalore.
Talk to you when I get there!
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