Memes are popular. Having a normal day in India is not. Why not combine the two for a rip roarin' good time?

A friend here and I ventured out of town for my birthday weekend. On my actual birthday day, we went out on a real safari, where we were told we might see tigers, elephants, sloth bears, and more. Share in the excitement by taking a look at the photo below!

Perhaps it was just a huge failure of a safari. Up at 5 a.m., forced to pay 3x the normal amount because we were foreigners, forced to pay another fee because the government employees running the show were clueless and misinformed, and then forced to see...nothing at all. We saw some birds, including the "jungle hen," (chicken), some deer, and little else. But we did see elephant poop!

The ride back to our "resort" was interesting, though.  

And honestly, aside from the safari, people were super nice at this small home/hotel/place in the woods where we stayed. And the food was amazing! Actually, we saw more interesting wildlife there...flying tree lizards, praying mantisi, and many different kinds of birds. Oh, and a crocodile!

After our sadfari day, we took a harrowing bus ride on passageways one could barely call roads. We're happy we're still alive. We arrived in the small coastal town of Karwar, which was filled with very friendly people who showed the utmost concern for my crutches-and-brace getup. Apparently they also thought I was mentally challenged, because they would ask my friend what happened, not moi. Crutches = mute? 

After time spent exploring the town, we were excited for a real resort with snorkeling and boating, but little did we know of the drama about to unfold. My friend forgot her passport, which meant we weren't allowed to stay, but due to some bizarre Indian rules, we were already registered and had to give information to the police. We were locked INSIDE the resort--but unable to use it--for 3 hours. Here we are, locked behind the gate. This is before the police called me but after the pair of snakes fell from the gazebo roof. 

Eventually we were allowed to walk to the beach, but alas, the eagles and birds circling above made me a bit cautious. After all, I couldn't run.

After the resortfail, we found another small hotel room and spent the next day walking/hitchhiking/riding to the local port, which had obviously never seen foreigners. We enjoyed the pretty colors of the place, though aside from kids torturing fish and women sorting dried starfish, there wasn't a whole lot going on.

Back in our li'l Hubli, it was time to move in with my friend. They forced me to move, as it didn't make sense for them to pay housing costs for two people living on their own. So I a new, poorly ventilated home to stay in all day. My new view is of construction guys building a house across the street. Hello, manual labor.

So now I reside, sometimes at home, sometimes at work, but almost always in a super-hot, little-ventilated, howling-dog-sounding, nasty-neighbor-perpetually-glaring-at-us, no-running-water, three-types-of-ants-infested home. At least I have a friend, internet, and a water filter that's only made one person sick thus far.

Sweet.

During the worst of times, we tend to pity ourselves and wonder what we did wrong. During the best of times, we try to count our blessings and surf the wave. During my odd, 40-day bed confinement to heal my injured knee, I spent all of these times going through the five stages of Indian grief, as coined by little-known Indian psychiatrist Elavarasi Kumbla-Raza. I’d list them, but they all have to do with cows. You just wouldn't understand.

WARNING: I may say some things here that you find offensive. I apologize in advance, but this is only my opinion. No, my country is not even close to perfect, and yes, I was frustrated while visiting countries in the past. And sure, I'll likely regret some of what I write, though much of it is in jest. Still, this is what I think at the moment, and therefore this is what I'm writing.

As many of you know, March started out great, but was soon followed by me being an utter klutz and wrecking my knee. After a rare long weekend spent visiting my friend’s jungle-like plantation, I gave a college lecture, returned to my home base, and continued work as usual. Several evenings later, a few of us were bored during a dance rehearsal (yep, I was forced to do Indian dance, which I’ve named “Hindi Hop”) and started fooling around. I was teaching several of my eager male students gymnastics moves, which they’d been begging to learn for weeks. To demonstrate a move, I flipped a student over my arm who was a bit too heavy, and when he fell, I fell, landing all my weight on my knee. I ain’t light, so the knee has thus far required bed rest and working from home, weeks of physical therapy (sketchy in India), an MRI (even sketchier), and several doctor/hospital visits. It was bone marrow edema of the knee and shin. Fun, right? With so much time home alone to think, I realized I needed to compile a list of events and happenings, and make a list of both the positive and negative outcomes. Not everything is black or white, right? 

Situation: The college lecture. I gave my biggest college lecture yet, which took place in a huge auditorium with over 120 students in attendance. In our opening activity, I forced them to get up and interact with each other in a communications game. It’s necessary to hold hands in this specific game, and I literally had to go around and grab the hands of giggling but genuinely petrified gals and put them into the hands of snarfling guys. It was the first time any of them had held hands with the opposite sex, and for many in this rural village college, the first time they’d ever really spoken with each other. Not sure what to think about that.

Cons: In the program, they spelled my name “Catherine.”

Pros: They didn’t spell my name “Snooki.”

Situation: The explosion. For those of you who don’t know, well, the day after I found out I was assigned to bed rest with an injured knee, on anti-inflammation meds, had crutches, wore a brace, and went to physical therapy every day, I was sitting in my room when I heard the loudest sound in my life. It was actually so loud that I didn’t have time to be annoyed and cover my ears. I knew that since I was in India, such a loud sound could only mean either a.) nothing had happened, or b.) the building next to me was no longer standing. I put on my brace and crutches and hobbled out to see…my foyer filling with toxic grey smoke. It was already in my throat. Realizing it probably wasn’t a good idea to stay inside, I quickly put on India-approved clothing, re-put on my brace, grabbed my crutches phone, and got the heck out of there, coughing. The neighborhood was standing outside, and it took a while for me to communicate to the men scurrying about that the explosion was in MY house on the 3^rd floor. A few calls and 7 guys staring at a generator later, it was obvious that one of its batteries had exploded. They all giggled as they talked with me, because when men here are nervous, they giggle. And since the generator was owned by my foundation, they were nervous. Just a little plastic shrapnel, flung-across-the-room shoes, and leaking black battery acid later, they told me a cute tidbit. “Kat-reen, it’s a good thing you weren’t in that room.” [nervous man giggle]

Pros: I’m not nervous about any more generators exploding in my house, because I have a.) no more generator, since they finally cleaned it up 4 days after the fact, and b.) I moved homes.

Cons: It’s India. Anything can explode at any time.

Situation: The weather. Just when I thought I was good at predicting this summer weather, i.e. it’s 100 every day and about to get worse, it started storming every day at 6:30. But then it switched up and added marble-sized hail to the mix, and last night, it stormed throughout the night, causing the power to go on and off, mosquitoes to flock in in droves, and the loudest thunder I’ve ever heard—akin to someone playing the timpani right next to my ear. Oh, and the ceiling was leaking in three places. Oh, and I don’t have a generator anymore (see PREVIOUS situation).

Pros: I got some neat photos of the lightening, and heck, anything that provides entertainment from my bed post is pretty darn exciting.

Cons: The dog vs. cow street tournaments keep me up at night. Totally unrelated.

Situation: I had a rare long weekend (aka Sat. and Sun. instead of just Sunday) to do something exciting, and since I was to do a college lecture that Monday, I visited the friend/co-worker who was also organizing the lecture at one of the schools in her jurisdiction. She lives in a large house out in the middle of nowhere, with waterfalls nearby and crops surrounding the house.

Here is a girl who, despite being raised in a household far different from ours, is pretty darn “Western.” She watches tv, chats on her cell phone, likes to shop, and uses Facebook. She also must wear clothing with sleeves at all times (even in her house), is treated rather poorly because she’s an Indian female, and, for three days each month, is not allowed to walk into certain rooms of her house. During these days, she must sit separately from her family, cannot touch anyone, has to eat off a banana leaf and not a plate, can only accept food that is dropped into her hands, cannot attend functions (she was forced to miss her cousin’s wedding) and must sleep on a thin floor mat on concrete. Her caste dictates that she follows these rules, and naturally she does so without hesitation. Who am I to judge? Yet to an outsider, these rules seem useless, demeaning, and just plain awkward for anyone visiting at this time. Which I was. Sitting on the floor, by a pole, in the half-lit room, with her family facing me on one side and her facing me on the other, was most certainly disturbing. Yes, it’s tradition. But why can’t things change?

Cons: I learned a lot about the caste system, but every bit I hear makes me angry—and ends in women being treated quite poorly and unequally.

Pros: Despite all those awkward meals, the food was eepin’ great! I had homemade yogurt from their cows, some delightful brinjal mash, and a kind of breakfast pancake served with homemade butter and local molasses that tasted unlike anything I’ve ever eaten.

Situation: My friend’s plantation, as well as the adjoining plots of land (there’s rarely any fencing or divides), is full of plants of every kind. It was the end of winter, which meant there were a lot of brown plants. Even so, she taught me all the medicinal uses of tiny fruits I didn’t notice, animals I could only hear the calls of, and what the trees would look like in the coming summer/monsoon season. She then brought me into her family’s plantation, which was a green jungle haven. Tall betel nut trees, banana trees, vanilla vines, winding peppercorn plants, pineapple bushes, papaya trees, coconut palms, and more lived under this beautiful, cool backyard canopy. There were roads leading seemingly nowhere, mystical fog hanging over rice patties, hills to hike, safe, cold well water, gardens…oh, it was just magical.

Pros: I got to spend my weekend in just a lovely outdoor environment, complete with spiders, birds, peacock calls, wild fruit and nut trees, and more.

Cons: Uh, none. I didn’t want to leave.

Situation: Spelling and texting. Oh man, America has nuthin’ on these folks. I’m not sure if it’s improper English usage, laziness, just texting shortcuts ‘cause it’s coo’, or a combination, but I can barely read what people write. Also, I’ve told people that certain abbreviations aren’t…good. They don’t care. Here are some real—and no, I’m not joking—texts I’ve gotten in the past few days. Oh, and if you brush it off, thinking that English is a second language, just know that it is for some of these folks—and some aren’t even Indian.

“Inform him, fr da transport.”

“Hey 2day im cumin hubl.. If posibl cum 2mro 2 hospital. I wil b der okie”

“Its good bt im thinkn of takn rest of week and goin to there for rest of week”

“Hey.u know,last night u comes in my dreams.really” (Don’t worry, it was a dream a friend had of us going hiking.)

“Ok.its good.i.ill tel tomorrow.ok.”

Cons: What you just read.

Internet Explorer could not find the word “Pros:”

Situation: International Women’s Day. In our meeting deciding what pandering events to hold for this day, one of the suggestions was to search for and show a variety of clips showing what women do around the world. In a place where women are usually required to be a housewife (yes, in the cities there are female doctors, writers, and software programmers, though I have yet to meet more than one), we all agreed that showing footage of women in Mexico as police officers, women in China as farmers, and women in Norway as CEOs. Most, that is. A good friend of ours complained. “Why do the students need to see international footage? India is pretty much the most diverse country in the world. We can just show them parts of India.” My American friend and I were sort of stunned, especially because he’s her best friend here. “What do you mean?” I asked. “It’s International Women’s Day, and you’re…comparing the diversity of India to the world’s diversity?” He shrugged it off and argued. “India is so diverse, man. There are different people in the north, south, east, west…it’s the best example of diversity in the world. We don’t need anything else. Let them just see India.” I was flabbergasted, and at that point, my blood boiled and I had to say something. I actually argued strongly with someone in a meeting. I’ve been to very little of India, and yes, there are a few African-Indian and Asian-Indian minorities, and for sure, there are many different religions, languages, and types of people. But to say it’s the most diverse country in the world, let alone thinking it’s representative of all the diversity in the world? To me, that’s not even stupid—that’s ignorant. Especially from someone who has traveled outside of India. Oh man, did that one get me going. And it wasn’t even about women, per say! You can bet your butt that during our big Women’s Day talk, when I got up to speak in front of the 200 students and staff at the foundation, it was on my mind. Not only did I give examples of my mother being a lawyer, mother, and teacher, I gave examples of what women can do all over the world. How women in the past, in many countries, have worked long and hard to forge new paths. How I am lucky that I can be pretty much anything that I want to be. And that, when I was asked to present the audience a challenge during my turn at the mic, I decided to start small. You see, many people here think women are equal. If that’s true, I asked the audience, then why can women not wear the same things men do, act the same way men do, and stay out late the same way men do? Men are allowed to wear shorts, special wash skirts, and wife beaters, and can stay out late, give women poor service when not with a man in a restaurant, beat women, and taunt them in the street. Let’s not even talk about how women have to move to the man’s home and stay home to cook and clean all day—literally. One of India's holidays is actually notorious for being a “let’s surround and touch the woman” day. And yet if a woman were to wear shorts, or even a tank top, she’d be thought of as a prostitute. Don’t go out after 9PM, our male friends say, and let us drive you home. And sure enough, guys think it’s fine to slap us, throw rocks, leer at us on their bikes, or creepily follow us home whenever they please. Yes, these unfortunate circumstances occur all over the world, but here in India, everything seems far, far worse. Maybe it’s because it’s bad here, or maybe it’s because everyone here is so proud of this country without knowing why.

Cons: India brags about equality but continues to create an atmosphere of absolute inequality for the female population. I'm no feminist, but it's hard to stand by and watch this kind of treatment every day. There’s some progress in cities, but women everywhere are struggling for respect and education. And no, they’re not happy about their world.

Pros: Once again, the unfortunate nature of this place makes me proud to be an American.  

Situation: The food. Since I’ve been stuck in my house for over a month, I decided that cooking on one leg/a chair would provide more excitement than not. Though I’ve had to rely on groceries picked by and brought rarely by friends, I have been cooking my own food, experimenting, and not consuming gallons of oil and ghee in the food we're normally served at work. I make everything from scratch, and despite the fact that ants may come in my flour, I’m pretty happy with my good eats. I make pancakes with bananas almost every day, my own confectioner’s sugar for frosting, smoothies, homemade pasta, chapatti, masala beet-stuffed bread, homemade bagels, mashed potatoes, real pudding, thai peanut dressing, sweet chili sauce, pita bread, and much more. It turns out that even without a stove or microwave, a rice cooker and a burner can be used in innovative ways to may pretty good food, if I may say so myself.

Cons: Where do you think all that food is going when I’m unable to even walk?

Pros: India’s food business is booming, and New York’s obesity numbers have decreased by one.

Situation: The doors and windows. What could be wrong? Oh, a lot. First of all, some of the doors have normal locks one opens with a key, but NONE have doorknobs. Instead, a bar and latch slide in and out of misplaced holes on the inside or outside of the door, meaning a door can only be locked from the inside or outside. Meaning one can easily be locked out by someone inside, or locked in by someone outside. Increased security? Maybe, but then how to explain the same thing on all doors, including bedrooms and bathrooms? Most of us believe it’s a scheme to lock women inside the house (kidding, mostly), but we really can’t figure it out. And yes, my friend locked his two roommates in at least seven times in the span of two weeks, and I was locked in twice by my landlord, who assumed I wasn’t home. I had to yell for help out a window. Speaking of which…they have an indoor screen and an outdoor piece of glass, both of which can be propped open or closed (though again, the shoddy craftsmanship means that latches give way, creating mini-doors that repeatedly slam open and closed in any wind). Open air? No, because there are—and I’m counting them right now—12 lateral bars on every window. Again, is this to prevent escaping? I don’t know, but it’s altogether rather dangerous in case of an emergency.

Pros: If I were to spontaneously bust into preggerdom, the kid wouldn’t be falling out the window at any point soon.

Cons: It’s annoying as heck, I’d be utterly trapped if a fire or something were to break out, and the poor craftsmanship means that dozens of mosquitoes fly in through the cracks every night to attack my poor albino blood.

So there’s a little for you on the months of March and April. I work from home and pray I’ll one day walk again. And that day is…tomorrow! I think by the end of the week I’ll be almost normal. My knee, I mean, not me as a person.

Until next time,
Coop

Photos: 1.) A betel nut sheller; 2.) Two hornbills just hanging out—amazing!; 3.) Can you spot the pepper picker in the tree?; 4.) More shellers at night; 5.) 7AM spiderweb; 6.) Look, it’s as if I’m in New York, ma! 7.) A local worker; 8.) With students at their graduation; 9.) Holi celebrations; 10.) Some of my wonderful students at a party.

Rajasthan. A place that for years I’d always heard about, but never imagined I’d go. Really, you must know that I’m a greenery-waterfalls-hiking-swimming-jungle-forest-mountain person, not a desert-hot-creepy men-sand person. Okay okay, I do like the creepy men part—who doesn’t, really—but I never expected to visit this northern state of India known for its brown landscape and desert atmosphere.

So when a co-worker of mine, RK, invited me and a friend to his cousin’s daughter’s wedding in Rajasthan, I immediately thought, heck, I get 10 days off in 6 months here. Why would I visit a desert? But in that auto rickshaw ride home that night, they urged me and I said yes. After all, I hate backing out on promises and was allured at the prospect of visiting a place so far out of my comfort zone, so opposite of what I would choose, and so geographically far away. Plus, I just couldn’t resist another opportunity to spend time in a “real” environment and not a tourist one. So I went.

The stories, of course, are endless, but I’ll try my best to summarize. You know that when you’re riding on a train with 30 various family members for 26 hours one way, you’re going to get to know them very well. Too well? Well immediately we caused a scene at the train station, where members of the family included a super old woman walking slower than the speed of light in a black hole, a midget, and people who knew some English and tried to help me get where I was going, not realizing I was traveling WITH them. We crowded onto the train. 

Fights, frenzies, and much food later, the pack of us emerged and boarded three crunched-in vans with our luggage strapped into the top. No, the fights were not with me, yes, that comes out to 10 people per van (comfort is not a thing here), and absolutely yes, some luggage did fall off during the four-hour ride. It was retrieved. 

After arriving at our destination with most limbs and necessary brains intact, we emerged to many family members, much hugging, and the Marathi word for “foreigner!” being shouted. We were put into a hotel at the bottom of a temple. That means we got several small, bare rooms to share with a bathroom. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.

I saw and learned a whole lot in those next few days.

-Expensive weddings mean a whole lot of food, but that doesn’t mean the food is any…cleaner.

 -I can make it as a palm reader. I literally had a line of people waiting for me to tell them about their lives. Don’t ask.

-When you spend all day with people for just a few days, and they tell you their deepest, darkest secrets, you feel as though you’re truly part of a family. In a good way, actually.

-People here will go to great lengths to help you, and a good many of them have just beautiful hearts.

-Many men here are sketchy as eep.

-If people in Hubli, India look like they’re from another century, then people in Rajasthan look like they’re from another millennium. Incredible.

-Indians are so lazy (they say this, and I concur for the most part) that they have roads to the top of every mountain. Hiking? Huh?

-It IS possible for roads to disappear and turn into just...sand.

-In addition to Joshua Tree-like rock formations and sands, Rajasthan has beautiful greenery, less litter, and an often-cold climate. Don't believe the desert hype.

-Yes, I rode a camel (for free, and only because I was a foreigner…sometimes you get lucky).

-Some of the people who knew me would give me their orders of spicy food and take the mild ones. Apparently I can handle it better than most here, but honestly, it’s usually not even spicy.

-Half the girls around the ages of 14 or 15 are already engaged.

-Most marriages are still arranged. My friend didn’t meet his wife until the day he married her. And everyone is still JUST as unhappy in their relationships as they are in America; they just hide their feelings better and are stuck/beaten.

-Monkeys are definitely dangerous.

-Sketchy situations always turn into great adventures. Unless, of course, they turn into, I don’t know, murders?

-Somersaulting down sand dunes is my next professional sport of choice.

 

The wedding itself was incredible and spanned three days. It was truly an unforgettable experience, as was traveling with this new extended family of mine, who now text me nearly every day. Despite the weird situations, the smelly surroundings, the never-ending stares, and the hot train rides, I did not want to go back to work. This was a trip no tourist could, or would want to, take. I loved (almost) every minute of it.

What do you want to hear about first: My 1 1/2-hour wait to be brought to the MRI, my 5-hour wait in the office FOR the MRI, or my restaurant lunch featuring roaches in the glass display case? Forunately (or unfortunately, if you go for tales of woe), I won't make you sit through any of those.

Instead, I'd like to share two quick things.

First, several of the photos I took for the Food Network on set last year are up on their website, and on tv as well! Looking at these really makes me miss the food I got to eat all day on set...man was that some tasty grub! Here are some of my overhead and side beauty shots taken for the Cooking Channel's show Kelsey's Essentials 3:

http://bit.ly/wfh5Ll - Chocolate Pasta

http://bit.ly/FOZnhQ - Pork Dumplings

http://bit.ly/FP9L9K - A somewhat comprehensive list with most of my photos.

And secondly, I completed a small video for my company, the Deshpande Foundation. Sure, sound isn't great, and there are parts that could be better, but I did my best for my first...well, job assignment video ever. I'm pleased considering I've never done a video like this before, and plus, you get to see a bunch of my awesome students!

I hope you enjoy it! Let's pray for the best now that I'm about to get my MRI results back, eh?
Yours,
Kathryn 

On Thursday night I was in the middle of a practice when I made a poor decision. My boredom, and my students' eagerness to learn gymnastics, led me to flip around one of my tiny students. He weighs only about 85 pounds, so I decided to teach him how to flip around my arm. Well, I flipped him around fine, but we were on a wooden stage, and when he didn't land right, I had to fall weirdly so as not to land on his head. Instead, I landed on my knee and heard a pop. A typical how-could-you-do-something-so-dumb-especially-when-you're-in-a-foreign-place moment, right? 

Well, after the pain subsided, the numb feeling came, and I attempted to sleep, the next morning it hurt even more. Of course I was angry with myself; after all, it was 100% my stupidity and my fault. My bosses convinced me to see a doctor. I actually have travel health insurance, but it's cheaper here not to file anything--really. So last night, on a Friday, my good friend ("Uncle") took me to see a doctor. Without swelling or bruising it looked fine, but I was walking with a limp, there were sharp pains, and squatting down (for the toilet) was excruciating. I was ordered x-rays. Some guy in a flannel shirt came into a room after 20 minutes of waiting, flipped on the switch, invited me in, and plugged in the x-ray machine. The good news? I was able to sneak a camera in to the most sketchy doctor's room I've ever seen, mainly to delight my older brother, Timothy. I figured, however, that many people would enjoy this foray into 18th century medical treatment practices.

I'm scared...is this an iron lung?

Heck, I'm surprised they didn't get out the leeches to properly bleed me.

Uhhhhh.....

My x-ray machine. Let's play a game of "guess which year?" and the closest guess within a century will win a cassette tape player.

Was it the lack of technology, the sparseness of the room, or the actual filth filling the place? I can't say for sure, but it sure was fascinating.

Less than 10 minutes later, amidst stares, nuns, pregnant women, and random occurrences, I went back to the doctor, who said the bones looked fine, and that it's probably just a torn ligament. He prescribed several things, then talked with us for half an hour, explaining to us his visit to America in detail. He also used his connections, made some calls, and invited me golfing once I heal up. Go figure.

Hopefully I heal up fast and learn my lesson, but really, it could have been worse, right? Tonight I am supposed to dance. This will be fun.

Until next time...

India is a country of amazing contrasts. And when I say amazing, I mean that the contrasts are staggering, but not necessarily in a good way. There’s technology right next to poverty, cow carts next to huge jeeps, and beggars next to businessmen.

Despite this fact, I often forget I’m even in India. Part if this is probably due to the fact that I adjust quickly to any living situation, and part of this is because I'm spending most of my days working in an office, Western style. I live in an apartment (albeit with differences, but still a place where I feel at home) and work in a fairly normal office on my own computer.  It’s often only when I walk to and from work that I remember I’m in India. Here’s a photo of several Deshpande Foundation employees in our office (post conference):

Pretty normal, right? Chairs, computers, friends. So aside from the fact that upper management is the worst I’ve ever seen, staff lunches are all fried in massive quantities of oil, and neighbors occasionally hold funerals and burn bodies out in the field behind our building, it’s a pretty normal work environment.

It’s only during the walk to and from work that I really know I’m in India. Even though I walk on the same exact roads 2-6 times a day, the stares never, ever stop. And I live in the suburbs, so you can imagine that when I get to the main road I have to cross to get to the college, the buses full of people, tons of moto drivers, and various cows just want to stop and gawk. Get over it, people. Females of other colors and even white males don’t have nearly  the same problem with the staring, and I’d say I can get over it, but it’s an everyday challenge. Aside from the stares, sure there are cows, but those aren’t a big deal. There’s a huge mix of teens in jeans, college students listening to music, ladies in saris, kids in school uniforms, poor students walking barefoot, businessmen, women carrying baskets on their heads, and more. There are crazy homes built with outdoor staircases and rooftop terraces. There are rubbish fires. There is garbage. Still, it’s just 15 minutes of India before returning to relative comfort.

 A 15-minute walk just 90 degrees in a different direction, though, brings about an entirely different picture. All of a sudden the city ends, the bustle of traffic disappears, and you’re surrounded by farmland. The air smells fresh, you’re walking on a dirt road, and children are staring like they’ve never seen a white person before. Sturdy cement houses in many colors turn to clay and tin homes that look ready to crack. Water buffalo bathe in a nearby lake. Further on down a few more curves in the road, a young boy shepherd watches his goats. Sugarcane grows in a field next to you. Men in a tree climb down and start collecting the tamarind pods they’ve just picked. Kids who have followed you ask for their picture to be taken. Boys play cricket in a field next door while other youngsters help collect cow dung for fuel. Families of pigs walk by. People crowd around your camera to see their photos. Women sort through piles of red chile peppers drying in the sun. Girls are tattooed on their faces at birth. This is when you realize you’re in India.

Walks with friends in rural villages are definitely the best part of being here. But whether in the rural areas or in the city, there are still many reminders throughout the day (especially Sundays, my one day off, during which I try to travel) that give clues about the fact that I’m in India.     

You know you’re in India when… 

…whether there are squat toilets or western toilets, the company that makes them is called “Hindware.” Crikes.

…people get up at 5, 5:30, or 6AM to sweep. By 9AM, different people are sweeping in front of their homes or businesses. The problem is that they’re re-sweeping dirt, and since most roads are mostly dirt, and trash has no home but the road, nobody ever gets very far. It seems just slightly useless, and it makes me sad to see such a useless chore being performed again and again.

…your day is completely made because there’s toilet paper in the bathroom.

…you never watch tv with the exception of one time at a friend’s house, and that time you watched was on an ’91 Gateway desktop computer. Okay, I don’t know the date exactly, but it couldn’t have been any newer.

…you’re chosen to teach a section of the underprivileged program’s male grooming class because you’re the only one here who knows…how to tie a tie.

…boys are good at doing cartwheels but girls aren’t. Well, they might be good at them but we’ll never know. Girls are not allowed to do them for the most part since it’s considered improper for a female to do such a physical movement.

…you see things you’ll never understand, such as an Asian Muslim holding hands with a Muslim lady in a culture where you’re not allowed to hold hands.

…you’re thankful that you got somewhere alive. There may be laws against talking on your cell and driving in the States, but try it here, where a friend of mine was (literally) texting in Hindi on one phone, talking in English on another, and swerving around cows, water buffalo, and camels while driving us up a mountain. I’m not even kidding.

…you have tea in a kitchen with a cow.

…you have a whole school out on break collectively turn their heads to stare as you walk by

…every guest speaker’s powerpoints fail repeatedly, sound systems never work, 9 different microphones are brought out during a conference only to keep failing, and the audience is groaning in displeasure.

…you see the worst magic show of your life, or really a collection of sad “tricks” put on by a man in a sparkly red shirt and a disgruntled, even more talentless wife. Said tricks may involve said previous sound system not working and an attempted dance where an American flag is pulled out and waved in your direction.

…every single sunset is amazing. Even though you know you’re ruining your eyes, you can’t stop staring at the huge pink orb.

…everyone’s eyes widen in terror as they see you drinking ice water, which causes illness. Same thing with eating fish and dairy together…it’ll cause your skin to turn white. 

Yes, all of these things are true. I could go on and on, but you have a life, right? It's back to work for me here in an increasingly hot India.

In the meantime, here are a few more photos for your viewing pleasure.

I’ll try to keep sane and not mind the stares, and y’all keep on trucking.

Love,

Coop

Lecturing and attending lecturers isn't all that fascinating, so when I had the chance to start lecturing for a Deshpande Foundation program called LEAD, I knew I wanted to turn the opportunity into a creative workshop experience.

So far I've lectured on creativity and innovation at several colleges in the state of Karnataka, India, and it's been a terrific experience. The majority of the students are in the engineering field and have joined LEAD with the hopes of improving India through social innovation. With a lack of practical learning experiences in the classroom, I hoped that some interactive sessions on new ideas would excite and inspire these extremely intelligent youngsters. I like to think that they really enjoyed the workshop and learned something, because the response seemed very positive. I can't wait to do a few more!

Work may be frustrating here in India, but these types of teaching opportunities really make it all worth it. I feel so lucky for this chance to challenge their minds!

On a rare day off, students invited me to take the train...and auto-rickshaw...and then bus...to visit their families in their native villages. A cow lived in one family's kitchen, I visited a 12th century temple, and while in a local priest's home, I learned to play the tabla. It was all amazing.

Here are a few of my favorites from the day.

COBRA! In our backyard at work, this poisonous fellow made an appearance. I was pretty thrilled. 

Kids eating popsicles on Christmas day. Yeah, really cold.

Hibiscus sunset.

Things really look like this here.

Some of my awesome students at our conference.

Winter by Hubli, India. It's sort of like the North Pole advertising for a tennis and soccer camp.

India is a confusing place. As you can see from the billboard above, well, people just have a different interpretation of what normal life really is. I spotted this ad for the SPCA and just had to snap a photo.

Yes, things are different here.  So many things are confusing, and the contradictions are endless.

Let’s take equality, which is really a joke here. India tries hard to be all about empowering people and creating equality, but at the same time, there are massive rules (especially for women) that go very much against the idea of independence or freedom. Women shouldn’t be out at night. Women aren’t allowed in bars. Men can dress like slobs but oh no, women must be nicely groomed and expensively dressed. Youngsters, even up through the age of 30 or more, still live with their families and must inform their fathers whenever they intend to leave the house or are stuck out later than expected. Just the other day I saw this billboard, which reminded me of the strict curfews.

Names are hard to remember here, and when you have 40 coworkers and over 50 students, it can be a challenge. Given that in America we have names such as Gary, Mary, Larry, and Kerry, I know I shouldn’t be annoyed with the similarity in names here, but I am. There’s Geeta. Neeta. Kavita. Holy Sheeta. How am I to remember?

Here’s another random ad I saw. It’s weird and confusing, that much is for sure. Not sure how this service would do in the U.S., but it certainly takes the worry out of life, right? 

Smelly people. Now there’s a great source of puzzlement in this country! Why is it that people here will spend more time bathing their water buffalo (as in, they’ll wash them by hand and kindly massage them) than themselves? Even people in my office smell TERRIBLE. And that’s coming from me. Me. Showering out of a bucket may be harder and more time-consuming then a traditional spray shower, but that doesn’t mean you’re allowed to smell bad all the time! Sure, we all walk through puddles of garbage, dirt, toxic smoke, and other small human and animal hazards to get to work each day, but that doesn’t mean I should shudder when you sit down two feet away to show me your powerpoint presentation for review.

Speaking of smells, well, I thought it would only be proper of me to write about the garbage without investigating all the facts. So I saw this billboard for what I thought was an American company, but I guess now they’ve come to India? Not sure about this one…I don’t know if I like the tone. Can’t tell if they’re playing with my head or what!

Speaking of work, well, that’s a fun one. There are no street signs here, so one has to rely on landmarks and visuals to get anywhere. I, for example, remember that to get to work, I walk 300 paces once I see the first cow, then turn left at burning garbage pile #4. If I reach the panther preserve, I’ve gone too far.  No really, it only takes 15-20 minutes to walk from my apartment. Once on my street, one literally goes right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right. Lysdexics should allot more time for navigational errors.

Even looking out my window at any given time of day offers just a hint to the mess of a world out on the “quiet” suburban street below. I’ll go look out now to give you an accurate account of what’s before my eyes at this moment. Ah, here…a coconut tree, colorful houses, chalk drawings on each dirt doorstep, stray dogs, a dirt street, a temple, garbage, some kids playing, women re-sweeping dirt, and a urinating gent.

Oh, I knew I had one more photo to share. After all, one has to keep hands clean in order to stay healthy in India! Strangely, I’ve been here a month and a half and have felt sick at least 5 times. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. Anyway.

Okay folks, that’s all I have for right now. I’m still so confused, but let me know if you have any answers. I’ll be working on hunting down the truth and trying to figure out what this place is all about. Perhaps I’ll share a creepy stalker story next time, or maybe I’ll actually tell you what work I’m doing here! Don’t I always promise that? Yeah, don’t count on me telling you or even figuring it out for myself. There’s much time left here though, folks, so together we’ll figure out what makes India tick.

Until next time, over and out!

Kathryn