Backtracks (USA!)

In all the scrambles of the past week, I have fallen behind. Fortunately I have the impending due date of these journals to whip my rear in gear.

WEDNESDAY:

Our political science teacher organized a service trip to some remote village coincidentally near the Sundarbans. It was another get up at 5ish day (whine whine whine but really we've had a disturbingly large amount of those recently). 3.5 hours of driving and an hour of a boat later, we were at the village. 

Bolakali was your typical rustic Indian village, though slightly larger than average, as shown by the decently sized school we visited. CSBSJU kids were divided along with Xavier students into different classrooms. There were about 80 kids in a classroom, girls on one, boys on the other, in fancy uniforms reading some rather technical article about Indian crops. Courtney, Becca and I were supposed to help them with a set of questions, but we couldn't translate the questions and they couldn't speak English very well. Things really picked up when I became Chancellor of the Chalkboard and devised random algebra questions. The students gleefully found X until I ran out of chalk.

The mood of the Xavier students was likened to that of youngsters on a field trip bus, which explains all the rambunctiousness. I did not appreciate; Rita who awakens before the clock chimes half past five might lack the physical strength to strangle people who scream on busses, but she sure will throw them some passive aggressive disapproving looks. Though the travel time to actual service time ratio was a little large, it was still a grand day. A grand day indeed.

Sadistic Sundarbans

Choose your own scare, reader beware!

Totes my goat

Normalcy of everyday life is again interrupted by the grand adventure that is school outings in India. Our heroes venture out of their Kolkata home at 5:45AM on Friday, armed with nothing but a few items of clothing and a wealth of expectations for what the weekend will behold. After an extensive bus ride and a little goat wrangling at frightening village rest stops (read: spidery), they enter the mystical mangrove swamp, the Sundarbans. 

A standard view

They board a boat and feel something they have not experienced for quite some time: freedom. With the wind in their hair and fire in their eyes and hunger in their bellies, they ride for hours around the scenic rivers, surrounded by lush banks of trees on both sides. A wildlife reserve and many monkeys later, the sky turns dark; it is dusk. They dock in a strange area, walking off the boat right into a nearby hotel. Exploring the area, they purchase many chips and cookies from surrounding stands and hop into a local cricket game, and our heroes do not embarrass themselves too terribly. That evening, a horrific idea is birthed: create an Indian themed "Goosebumps" novel. A few members of the troupe work diligently to craft a web of deception and atrocity which is then forced on the rest of the American population. What fun. More information will come when the map is more complete; you too will be able to participate if you dare.

The next day consists of eight hours of boating, wandering through wild life reserves, not watching the hotel's weird performance about a tiger and the gods, and playing Goosebumps/reading narratives on a bed under a mosquito net. This time, Sucharita joined the rest of the assembly. Best study abroad group, period.

That heat you feel? That's the monkey's searing glare.

Something was strange about this weekend, besides the eeriness of peace that comes from forgoing a city for nature. For instance, the skin surrounding Kate's eyes had turned red and dry, threatening to crack at a moments notice. An odd sleeping spell seemed to periodically sweep the group while at sea, putting them at risk of being victims of piracy at any moment. The swamp was pleasantly devoid of mosquitos, though rife with vicious monkeys and sinister crocodiles who sat frozen on the banks or slipped deadly, silently into the water. A stranger asked me for cannabis. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I think there was something in the water.

Thanks for reading! Come again soon!

And now for some Parseltongue!

Thursday: After school, I ditched the Salt Lake crew to go to southern Kolkata for some temple touring. Kanwar and his friend Sam took us first took us to the Birla temple. It was the Taj Mahal of Hindu temples; one of THE most beautiful and fanciest places of worship I have ever seen in my entire life. White marble, huge and airy, and so ornate! Architecturally boss. They fed me sugar and painted a red spot on my face. 

Secondly, we went to Kanwar's gudwara, which is a Sikh temple. In Sikh tradition, we donned our head scarfs/turbans before we entered, and a nice man there helped me put mine on when he saw my struggles. Gudwaras look super cool, their music was beautiful, and a man came around and gave us each a handful of something very much like Malt-o-Meal. 

Religious places of worship thus far in India:

X Christian (Assemblies of God and Baptist, I'm not going to count the school's Catholic church because I hear there's one better on Park Street)

X Hindu (many many temples and shrines)

X Sikh

X Baha'i

- Muslim (though I have been in mosques, none of them were active places of worship)

- Jain (haven't been yet, but we just learned that Vilpul is Jain so perhaps he'll take us someplace)

In the morning when Courtney and I were walking to school, I saw my first cobra of Kolkata. It was standing up in a basket, just hanging by itself. There was no charmer around that we could see, and it was just so strange in her neighborhood because there aren't any foreigners in the area (well besides us).

Not your grandmother's Chinatown

Yesterday, the Salt Lake gals galavanted off to Tangra, the Chinatown of Kolkata. I have been to NYC's Chinatown and maybe the one in San Francisco (but I was young so then again that might be a memory construct). A taxi drove us to the area and we emerged from the cab with great skepticism. Was this really it? Apparently... yes. Preconceived notions will get you every time. Words are just being to troublesome for me to deal with right now, so for a better explanation of the area, please refer to pictures. We found a restaurant that had been recommended to me, had some delicious chicken, explored the narrow streets--please keep in mind this was NOT a tourist destination by any means. Only non-Indians/Chinese/Indochinese around for miles--and it was one heckuva time. We casually sneaked into some places we probably shouldn't have, and one such place turned out to be a lovely cemetery, very peaceful and complete with an unexpected Christian portion. If you ever come to Kolkata, put Tangra on your list as an unappreciated gem of the city and get the lemon chicken from Kimling's.

The day was further perfected by chocolate cake with our friend Vilpul, piling 14 into a jeep and singing for Kate's half-birthday, listening/speaking/eating sugar roses at the Rotary Club for their International Day, and reading Goosebumps by R.L. Stine at a slumber party. Hint: when you're at the carnival of horrors, it would probably be more beneficial to stay by the midway than go on the rides.

A week's worth of absences/Brenna's nude legs

Hi. Hi hi hi. Sorry for the lack of posts. Service learning takes a whole lot of time, but it is pretty great. I spent the first two times drawing with crayons on the office wall (with new friend Apurna), and the third painting. Each time we work for a while then have tea with Amlan, Piyali, and other staff members while engaging in philosophical and motivational discourse about NGOs, personal growth, rural and urban development, and changing the world in general. It's great. 

On a different note, Brenna bought these caucasian-flesh colored leggings really cheap from the market. They would probably look okay on someone with dark skin, but when Brenna wears them, it looks like she's wearing no pants. Kakima walked in, viewed Brenna's fleshy legs, patted (caressed more accurately) her knee and declared them "sexy". It was hilarious. She then told us a bunch of cultural/time differences about the taboo of showing one's legs or talking about sex at all in India when she was growing up. We all felt terribly uncomfortable but I'm glad it happened.

Various Indian perspectives on body hair

-First noticed on billboards: there's one we see many places around the city that depicts the backs of a man and woman sitting on the beach. The man has lots of hair on his shoulders and back. Unexpected, but apparently body hair on dudes is cool here.

-During the time of the fashion show, the Indian girls were shocked to learn that it was not normal in American for women to wax their arms. Kelsey and I looked at their arms: smoother than a baby's bottom. We got a little self-conscious.

-Later, we brought up the last scenario at dinner. Kakima told us about a weird traditional Indian home remedy that she received as a baby: rub hot coconut oil onto the baby's arms, legs, and pits, and hair will never ever grow. 

I'd trust her on that one. The woman is flipping hairless. 

SERVICE LEARNING!!!!!!

(Feb. 3) TODAY! WAHOO!

We had our first real(ish) day at Prayasam!!!!

Unfortunately Erik was busy, so lone wolves Becca and Rita properly found the building in 15 minutes (rather than 50). We met our boss dude, Amlan, the founder of Prayasam. He is hilarious. After much humorous chitchat about pampering but overbearing Indian host families for interns (ahem) and inspirational discourse about child empowerment, we got to go meet the youth we are working with. We traversed into an unknown part of Salt Lake that was pulsing with energy even though it was crumbling away. In a one school house/multipurpose meeting room, we met like thirty kids. The little ones left and we got to know a little better the older ones. Most of them have already done so much even though they are so young and have far fewer opportunities. They make us look like bums!  

http://www.prayasam.org/

I have high expectations for this. Granted, we're not writing grants or doing other hard-hitting work; maybe we are not necessarily doing as much in a quantifiable way, but darn it if we won't have 12 times more fun in the process. Erik will be teaching guitar (he's the favorite amongst the youth already for that purpose and they haven't even met him yet) and Becca and I will be trading off running a small library and painting a mural in the office, with some help from the kids. 

I have no detached humorous statements to finish this post. I'm just real flipping excited.  

New Kids on the Block

(Feb. 2) Today, everyone thought we were new here. I mean, relatively speaking we are, but why all this nonsense today? Do we look more clueless than usual? 

-3 out of 4 of rickshaw drivers tried to cheat us (granted like three rupees but it's the principle of the matter, dangit), 

-people randomly assisted us hail the rickshaws, 

-fellow riders on the rickshaws pointed out where the metro was, 

-and people on the metro asked us what stop we needed to let us know which side to exit from.

Random. And not just to us! During the same period of traveling though elsewhere in city, Courtney and Torchia were stopped four times on the street to have people welcome them to India. FOUR TIMES.

But the real question is, how can they tell we're foreign?