Abdication of the Biscuit Queen

Mom hates to eat meals on a regular basis. Almost every day, I was forced to watch breakfast or lunch slowly tick away as my belly growled out the minutes (it wasn’t nearly as pathetic as all that, but hopefully she reads this and feels a twinge of guilt.) In place of these glorious meals, we purchased nearly a lifetime supply of wonderful little treasures called “Fiber Biscuits.” After hours of complaining and crunching on these glorious little brown discs, Mom eventually changed my nickname from her “most smartest daughter” just to “biscuit.” More efficient, you see.

Anywho, these biscuits came in mighty handy when my GI tract decided to go on strike (likely inspired by the political goings-on here in Nepal,) making my first few days here rather unfortunate. Nothing makes you regret going to a foreign country like freezing cold, a lack of appetite and realizing that even your own body doesn’t like you. In 24 hours I had officially graduated from simply “biscuit” to the “Biscuit Queen.” (Thankfully an uncontested office.)

Everyone has been incredibly nice in nurturing me back to tolerable, if not top shape. Ironically this morning we went to our health orientation in Kathmandu where I learned all about my symptoms and the scientific names for what I simply refer to as “hell.” Though I can’t put my finger on it (maybe it’s my recovering health, maybe it’s just the simple passing of time) but all the CSNP students have definitely warmed to each other. Now I find I have to hold my stomach at least twice a day not from nausea but from laughing too hard.

There are only four Americans here: me, Melanie, Joanne (Cornellians) and Jon (Haverford.) Joanne is an absolute trip - a Masters student in political science who never fails to make us laugh. Really only Banuji (our FANTASTIC headmistress of sorts) can rival Joanne as the mischievous chucklemaster. I really think it was Joanne’s belated arrival (the UK had an issue with her Kenyan passport) that allowed everyone to officially chill out. Mel is a junior like me with aspirations of being a midwife and with 1.5 years of Nepali under her belt... needless to say, quite a baller in her own right. Finally Jon is the isolated y chromosome forced to deal with being utterly and completely outnumbered by females. (I apologize for boiling down my peers into a matter of sentences... tis the curse of a blogger.)

Four more hours of Nepali tomorrow followed by a field trip to Patan. I think there are more monkeys involved. : )

Home in Kirtipur

Sorry for the delay - since Agra, Mom and I visited the erotic Hindu temples at Kajuraho, then the holy Ganges in Varanasi. Finally we flew into Kathmandu on January 24th where it slowly dawned on me that I would not be leaving this country for another four months at least. After so many days of constant traveling, it was a relief to think I would finally be settling down, unpacking my clothes rather than just living out of my oversized duffel bag.

I arrived yesterday at the girls’ hostel here at Tribhuvan University in Kirtipur. We’re only 20 minutes or so outside of Kathmandu, but it certainly is slower paced without the crazy, near suicidal traffic or the large collection of tourist and trekking shops that reminded me of Broadway in New York. The building is absolutely gorgeous, and my room is nicer and larger than those I ever had at Columbia. We are completely pampered here, with a delicious breakfast brought to our rooms at 7 am, lunch cooked at 10, snack at 3 and dinner finally at 7pm. I haven’t yet figured out how to eat less than what you are given and post-meal nausea is given until I can get better acquainted with the meal time customs here. 3 out of the 4 Americans have arrived - Melanie and Jon and me - and we are waiting for Joanna who had customs trouble traveling through London Heathrow. We each have a Nepali roommate - mine is Atma, a Sociology grad student at the University. It’s a small community and our world are the three connected buildings - girls and boys each with a hostel and the common building for meals and the classroom.

We have been relatively unaffected here by any political issues in the capital - a strike scheduled for the 24th was canceled, but would otherwise have shut down all transportation for several days. We have no electricity for 10 hours every day, split into morning and evening 5 hour blocks that change for each day of the week. Yet everyone just takes it all with a shrug and we end up with candlelit dinners instead. So far, meals have been pretty quiet as everyone gets used to one another. It’s also FREEZING once the sun goes down, and we seem to have adopted the angriest dog in the world who conveniently lives right outside my window; during the day it’s much warmer outside than inside (I’m writing on our beautiful rooftop deck overlooking Kantipur right now.) I can’t emphasize enough how welcoming and kind everyone is - Banu Oja is like our headmistress. She reminds me of a mix between a female Santa Claus and Julia Child (in mannerisms, not the cooking part.) There is also “Shesh-Daddy” who cooks, Janak who teaches CI (Contemporary Issues of Nepal) and of course Banu who teaches Nepali speaking and writing.

That’s the lay of the land so far: delicious food in epic quantities, beautiful people, wild dogs, fresh air and the occasional lack of electricity. Not too shabby. I was so worried about getting settled in this new country - now that it has all gone so smoothly, I find myself bobbing along in a happy limbo until the next big challenge comes.

Day 4: Agra

We finally caved and purchased internet at the hotel. Since Delhi we have visited Jaipur (via a 4-hour delayed plane,) and drove from Jaipur to Agra yesterday. It has become painfully obvious that without a guide and a driver, we would be hopelessly lost. I don’t think even New York taxi drivers could survive the streets of India. The speedometer is a new thing here, and at least three times a day we see a well-sized truck heading towards us on the wrong side of the road in a two-lane highway, barrier and all. It’s amazing how despite the fact that millions of people are squashed into such a small area, India always smells amazing. Everywhere we go, the air smells like incense and burning wood. Pigs, cows and goats are always on the side of the street rooting through trash - Mom and I think this is why there’s no foul stench, even though we see at least five men a day relieving themselves on the side of the highway. Maybe NYC should get some pigs of their own... No street food for our delicate tummies, but Indian takeout during finals week is a surprisingly good representation of the restaurants in India so far.

In the winter, India is blanketed with fog except in the mid-afternoon when the sun peaks through. This means that our morning visit to the Taj Mahal was more like sneaking up on a shark in muggy water, where suddenly this enormous structure appeared through the mist, domes, turrets and all. At every major historical site we have visited, there are always young boys running forward thrusting cheap jewelry and postcards under your nose for purchase - yesterday Mom finally just caved and bought a few postcards so we could keep moving. Though I expected that Mom and I would stick out like sore thumbs, it still is my least favorite part of the day when I have to walk through the streets pretending to be a penniless, deaf mute. Though I am truly enjoying our tour through India, I am getting more and more excited to finally arrive in rural Kirtipur where not only can I finally see the stars through a fogless sky, but I won’t be so easily pegged as the tourist “Madame.”

Delhi: Day 1

Today I woke up in India. We arrived in Delhi this morning around midnight and surprisingly defied all varieties of jet lag and woke up at 8 am (9 pm to our friends on the east coast.) We are in a beautiful hotel in New Delhi (the “old” and “new” seem to be defined by the strength of Western influence on the area.) After a short breakfast with butter and toast on one side and lentils and parathas on the other, we headed out with our guide Nijit who turned out to be quite the character. In the fog and bleary-eyed stupor of our arrival, we couldn’t see much beyond the borders of the streets. They are filled with cars (mostly small, compact things either in silver, white or taxis which are multicolored black, yellow and green.) Even these smaller vehicles have trouble weaving among the hundreds of motorcycles, cows, dogs, goats, pigs and the occasional camel. Lanes don’t really exist and a driver must always have one hand on the horn at all times. Along the major highways from the airport, the city largely resembles a work-in-progress with construction materials abandoned and barren expanses for miles where the homeless have encamped themselves for the night. As we entered Old Delhi towards our first stop of the day, most of the cars were replaced with even shabbier motorcycles and fearless bicyclists, narrow lanes and overhanging apartment buildings that looked as if they were stacked together by a drunken 5-year old. All the colors on the signs were faded and hundreds of tangled electric wires pass from poles over the alleys to the buildings. I began to wonder where Asia’s second largest economy fit into all this, until our guide told us that for 50 sq. ft. along these dirty, crowded streets cost anywhere from 100,000 - 500,000... in US dollars.

(Note: this will be a long entry - feel free to back out now.) Our first stop was Jama Masjid, the largest mosque in India - an open courtyard at the top of a hill, separating the Moslem and Hindu areas of Old Delhi. Once we took off our shoes and put on some neon wraps straight out of Scooby Doo to make ourselves more presentable, Nijit pointed out that while hundreds of birds dotted the skies to our left, there were absolutely none on the right. On the left - Moslems eat cow, cow falls on the ground, birds eat cow. On the right - Hindus worship cow, no cow on ground, and so no birds. Just walking from one side of the mosque to the other was like being teleported - Hindi versus Arabic, black head scarves versus colorful saris. And all within spitting distance of one another. There were also oodles of pigeons - apparently they have given Nijit the inspiration to pioneer a pigeon racing/gambling tourist venture. Throughout the day he emphasized always how competitive India is - 13 million people live in Delhi alone, and if you can do something, chances are someone can do it better. That is why you must be original, and even then, originality won’t last long. “India, like China, is a great copier,” he said. “You show us something, we will take it and reproduce it here. Probably make it better.” As we were driving home, he said to us “if there is one thing you will learn here, it’s humility.”

After Jama Masjid, we passed the Red Fort and saw Rajghat, the cremation site of Mahatma Gandhi. Nijit was a one-stop shop for Indian history, and I’m ashamed to say I learned more history from him than anything I can remember from High School. Afterwards, we saw Humayun’s (one of the 6 Moghul emperors) Tomb - a grand palace surrounded by gardens that many say was the inspiration for the Taj Mahal. Finally, we saw Qutab Minar, site of the oldest mosque in India created in 1197 AD with a large tower to give calls to prayer. The site was covered with ancient Arabic scrawl and beautiful sandstone arches (and a few green parrots.) It was my favorite site by far - even though the ruins were incredibly old, everyone was allowed to just walk right up and touch everything. Many of the faces on the figures had been scratched out, but this was the work of the emperor who created the mosque. There was no available stone, so he simply plastered over the remains of destroyed Hindu temples, scrubbing out the faces to make it appropriate for Moslems.

So far India has not thrown me into the culture shock I anticipated. Granted, we have been shuffled and coddled the entire way (which is wonderful; we would be completely screwed without guidance.) It seems that most people here are used to white tourists jumbling around their streets in rickshaws, blocking traffic to snap photos. So far the most uncomfortable thing has been when sellers or children approach you, pushing their wares in your face or begging for money. Living in NYC has been great preparation, but still it feels terribly awkward and even shameful to refuse when you know you have the money in your pocket to pay $15 for a cheap necklace.

Tomorrow we catch a 6:20 plane to Jaipur (leaving the hotel at 4:30 in the morning!) where we continue on in our crazy Indian adventure. If you got this far without falling asleep, congratulations and thanks for following along!

I Leave Tomorrow!

January 15, 2010

I’m not freaking out, surprisingly. There’s an enormous pile of slightly sorted clothing, medications, first aid supplies, warm accessories and odds and ends on my floor. For about five seconds, my room was “clean,” but alas no more. Later today I will try to pile this all into a bag and then tomorrow at about 2 pm my mom and I catch a plane from Logan to Chicago, and then Chicago to Delhi (I’ve learned that the airlines operate on a completely different understanding of geography than the rest of the world.) I now have a camera that is not broken (thank you Ale!) and baggy pants and shirts which in no way suggest that I am a woman. Throw in some Purel, a little Black Eyed Peas to remind me of American trashy pop music, and of course some Immodium and I think we’re in business! Most importantly, I found out that Kirtipur does carry our deliciously fatty, creamy yet chunky version of peanut butter - and now I know that a god does exist and he loves me oh so very much!

I will be reachable by cell until my flight Saturday afternoon... then it’s mostly gmail, iChat and, of course, this blog.

Less than 2 Weeks to Go!

January 5, 2010

I can barely believe that in less than two weeks (January 16th to be exact,) my mom and I will be flying from Boston to Chicago, and then Chicago to Delhi. Delhi, INDIA. Now that the wisdom teeth are officially out, it might be time to maybe, almost, kind of start considering what kind of crazy business I have gotten myself into. Mom and I will be spending 10 days in India, traveling from Delhi to Jaipur to Agra to Vanarasi and finally to Kathmandu where we spend two days. Then I head to Kirtipur and my mom heads back home. Did I mention there’s an elephant ride included in India? That’s TWO, count ‘em, TWO elephants I will be riding in the next five months. YES!

Packing should happen soonish - but it’s not soonish yet, is it?

Recently I keep running into folks who have requested the link to this blog. If you know anyone who would be interested, please send this link along to them and apologize for me for not sending it to them in the first place (there’s a LOT of you out there.) Also, if you’ve been to India or Nepal before, I could really use the advice - or just some really cool stories!