Anant Chaturdashi (last day of Ganpati festival)

We left the house around 12pm, took the two-wheelers as close as we could get to the crowds, then went the rest of the way on foot.  The crowds weren’t too bad, but on our way back around 130pm, it was already getting ridiculous.  You literally have to squeeze your way through people while trying to avoid getting pick-pocketed, groped (accidentally or intentionally), falling in holes (my specialty), or losing your group which can be avoided by desperately clinging to them.

The main procession goes along a 2km road and it takes about 5 hours to make it’s way to the river for the final immersion of the idols.  We held hands in a line and weaved our way through the crowds for a while, stopping occasionally to take a picture of the beautiful sand art on the roads.  We went to see my host-brother briefly too while he was on a break from drumming.  He left this morning around 8am to meet up with his drum group for the processions.  And he’ll return around 12pm tomorrow.  No, he’s not going to sleep.  He’s literally drumming (and probably enjoying the festivities) until tomorrow around lunchtime.  We finally made it to a small space in the sidewalk, where my host-parents ushered me into an Alice-in-Wonderland-like door and led us up three flights of stairs to a friend’s home.  I’m serious, the door was like a doggy flap cut into a larger door, but it was big enough for us to squeeze through.

 We went out on their balcony and then the rooftop terrace.  Best. View. Ever.  It was perfect.  You could see everything, including the endless flow of people as you looked back toward the starting point of the procession.  There were drummers, flag dancers, performers with cymbals and tassels, horses, costumes, more musicians, and then of course the Ganpati idols in descending order from the “First” Ganpati who is considered the guardian of Pune.  (I wrote about him in my Puja/Pooja entry).

The sand art was absolutely beautiful.  So intricate.  So many different colors.  Everywhere, there were beautiful colors, sparkles, and red powder being thrown on people.  The noise was... I can’t even describe it.  I’m pretty sure I’ve been to quieter dubstep concerts.  It’s insane.  There will be a group of drummers with those huge drums worn around the waist, making an intense thumping sound.  Then a few feet behind them there’s a group of musicians playing jazz instruments.  Behind them, a group of young boys with cymbals.  Behind them, people chanting into the loudspeaker, and then music playing out of speakers the size of my body.  It’s incredible.  And there’s no end to it.  When we finally got home, I felt exhausted.  It was unreal.  We were only there for like 1.5 hours but it took a lot out of me, weaving through the crowds, the heat, and the noise.  Clearly, I’m not cut out for festival season because the rest of the city will be out there celebrating until tomorrow afternoon.

It really is amazing though.  My host-father asked me if we had anything like it in the U.S. and I was caught off guard.  July 4th on the National Mall? Not even close.  I can’t speak to New Year’s Eve in New York City so that may be able to compare, I don’t know.  I mean, the entire city and thousands of people from around the country come here to celebrate this God, Lord Ganesha, that they put so much faith in.  Even my exhaustion couldn’t push away my desire to dance gaily through the streets.  The festive spirit is infectious.

My host-parents aren’t crazy about the crowds and they’re protective (as they should be), so I’ll watch the rest of the festivities from my quiet flat on the television.  Apparently people will start getting obnoxiously drunk soon, playing louder and louder music, taking part in “vulgar dancing” and generally acting like hooligans.  Sounds fun, right? But I was advised not to leave the house.  I had enough for one day anyways.  Here’s some of the pictures I got of the procession!

The "red carpet" to guide the procession towards the river

Sand art!! 

Sand art in promotion of the "girl child" 

Drummmmms

Cymbal-tassel boys

Hellooo crowds

More drummers 

My view from the balcony!

Kasba Ganpati under his protective umbrella/parsol with the crowd going crazy trying to get to him

Better view of Kasba Ganpati

Daily Headlines

I was never one for reading the newspaper daily back home.  Mostly because I don’t usually have time, so I end up getting my news from BBC updates on Twitter.  Sad, I know.  Anyways, I’ve become very fond of spending a few minutes every morning, or later in the day, sipping my chai and reading the Indian newspaper(s).  I usually read The Indian Express, Sakal Times, and DNA (Daily News & Analysis) of Pune.  I’ll admit I’ve felt proud of myself for becoming a more educated citizen of the world.

Usually, I enjoy learning about the world around me, and trying to understand Indian society, its priorities, its culture, its politics, its tragedies.  Unfortunately, the latter sticks out to me the most.  It’s hard to stomach my 730am cup of chai when the first headline I read tells me that a man just committed suicide after his daughter was gang-raped.  Not the best start to the day.

Here are today’s headlines:

Mumbai: 14-yr-old boy falls into ditch, dies

South Mumbai Senior Citizen was Murdered

Gunmen Loot Rs 5 crore from Cash Van, Kill Guard in Delhi

FTII Student Drowns in Swimming Pool

Man Found Hanging

9-yr-old Delhi Girl Dies of Dengue

CMO Sachan’s Death was Suicide, says CBI Report

6-yr-old Sexually Abused, Beaten to Death by Foster Parents in MP

Protests at Shimla School over Class VI Girls’ Deaths

19 Killed in Latest Nepal Air Crash, Growing Concerns Over Safety Record

12 Die as Iraq Convicts Riot, Bolt from Prison

US Man Kills Masked Teen, Finds it’s his Son

To be fair, I didn’t read the newspaper that often in the States, so maybe American news is just as disturbing and that’s just the state of the world today.  Okay, I’ll stop being so cynical.

I know you want to hear about my adventures and how much fun I’m having, but I would be lying if I didn’t say I’m surrounded by a certain level of tragedy every day.  The woman and her babies living on the sidewalk that I walk by every day to go to school, the stray dogs with chunks of flesh missing and their eyes a little crazy, the beggar children that I’d love to help but I know I have to sternly turn away, and the tiny little kitten who wandered into our conversation yesterday at the program center.  She was no longer than the length between my thumb and pinky, shaking, wet, big ears on her tiny little head, and so skinny you could see her bones.  I’ve no idea where she came from but she wandered right in to warm herself by our feet and mewed until one of the program girls was brave enough to touch her.  I’m more apt to touch a stray cat than stray dog, but I still have to wonder what she’s carrying.  The guard noticed her and while we weren’t paying attention, he grabbed her like she was a big rat, and shoved her under the fence to go away.  She was persistent and made it back to our patio to keep us company, but I had to wonder what would happen to her.  This poor little kitten received our sympathy, but I doubt the girl who cradled her would do the same for a street child.  Many people are just as bad off as this kitten in India, and they’re often thrown out, like the guard tried to toss the kitten, because no one wants to deal with them.  They’re not worth the time of day.

Puja Pooja Puja Pooja

Today was the day of immersion for our family, so last night some extended family came over and we had a large delicious dinner including these amazing little dumplings called ‘modak’.  They’re not really dumplings, they just look like them.  Anyways, the outside is made out of steamed rice-flour, and the inside is a blend of coconut, jaggery (tastes like molasses), cardamom and poppy seeds.  You’re supposed to open the top and pour a little ghee (clarified butter) on top to make it easier to digest.

This morning (Sunday), we left just before 8am to go to perform puja (pooja) for the oldest Ganpati in Pune.  As we drove, my grandfather fulfilled his grandfatherly duties and explained every historical thing he could think of to me like the Shaniwar Wada palace-fort we drove by on our way to the 400 year old temple in Kasba Peth.  Pune is known as the city of Ganesh, and Pune’s first idol is Kasba Ganpati who resides in Kasba Peth.  I was told this Ganpati idol is 1600 years old.  On the last day of the festival, Shri Kasba Ganpati will play the leading role during the immersion procession.

Kasba Ganpati is decorated in pure gold.  Gold ears, gold crown, gold jewelry.  Beyond beautiful.  The idol is normally located within the temple, but during the festival he is brought out for people to worship.  There was a long line of people coming to bring flowers, money and coconuts as an offering to the idol.  Then, in front of the idol (who sits on a stage inside a mini temporary open temple), there was a crowd of people sitting on the ground chanting hymns in honor of Ganesha.  My host-mother’s mother has the honor of being invited every year to perform puja for this idol after receiving an impressive award for a documentary film she made, so we had the privilege of going with her.  We went right up on the stage in front of the idol who sat in an incredible silver throne of sorts surrounded by flowers that had been offered to him.  We performed our puja on the stage in front of the idol, offering flowers, chanting, and clapping.  I was given prasad as I left the stage, and then a saffron sash with hindi hymns written on it was draped over my shoulders.  After our puja, we visited the temple that Kasba Ganpati normally sits in to offer coconuts and more flowers.

Then we returned home to have some more tea with the whole family.  After tea, we went to grandmother’s home to perform puja for HER Ganesha, get more red/yellow powder on my forehead, take more prasad, and have coffee because the four cups of tea I’ve already had wasn’t enough.  Finally, we came home for lunch (or so I thought) and performed another puja for our own idol at home.  I’m starting to catch on to a few of the phrases in the hymns they chant for puja.  THEN we got to eat lunch, as if I wasn’t completely full already on all of the prasad and modak.  I swear, I’m going to gain ten pounds this weekend.  After lunch, I was allowed to relax for a little while and then in the evening we went to immerse the idol.

We drove a few minutes to the edge of the river where we, by some miracle, found a parking spot close to the bridge.  As I got out, my senses were accosted by the all-women’s drum group performing nearby, the chanting, the bell-ringing and the traffic... and the incense, the flowers, the city streets, prasad, the oils and more.  We wiggled our way through the crowd as hundreds of people brought their idols to the river.  I’m pretty sure I was the only white person in sight.  As we got down to the river-side there was a battle for our attention.  In an effort to be “green” the Pune Municipal Corporation is encouraging eco-friendly Ganpati idols made from clay, and they urge people to immerse their idols in the tanks provided by the PMC next to the river.  Angered with these new, tradition-breaking green practices, there are some protestors (very calm, non-aggressive protestors) with signs explaining to people that they are not following the Hindu tradition properly.  Apparently the idol is supposed to be immersed in moving waters, so being eco-friendly and immersing your idol in the tanks is against tradition.  My family prefers the eco-friendly version, so we brought our idol to the tank and said goodbye to Ganpati.  We took prasad, which for the first time was not sweet but strangely spicy, and then made our way back through the crowds to the car and went home.

I had one more cup of tea when we got home, and because I haven’t had enough sweets this weekend, I had a couple of homemade brownies that my roommate’s sister brought with her when she came to visit this weekend.  Definitely going to explode at this point.  Oh, and I still need to save room for dinner.  Life is rough.

Unfortunately, I did not bring my camera with me for all of the pujas I just described, however, I do have it glued to my wrist most other times... so here are some other, not quite as old, Ganpatis that are out for the festival!

Ganpati on Bhandarkar Road (near my homestay)

Peacock-themed Ganpati on F.C. Road!

Close-up of the peacock (this is for you, Mom)

Sand art at our program center!

My First Real Mehandi (Henna)

This Wednesday (September 19) was the first day of the Ganpati Festival which celebrates Lord Ganesha, Lord of success and destroyer of evils and obstacles.  For those of you who don’t know the fun little story of Ganesha here’s a short version:

Once goddess Parvati assigned Ganesha the task of guarding her while she bathed.  When Shiva, her husband returned, he was angry to find a stranger blocking his way and struck off the boy’s head in rage.  Parvati was heartbroken and to soothe her, Shiva sent out his troops to fetch the head of the first being they saw.  The company found a sleeping elephant and its head was then attached to the body of the boy.  Shiva restored its life and made him the leader of his troops and started calling him with a name ‘Ganapati’

In honor of Ganesha, the festival will last until September 29.  In other words, the next ten days will be filled with processions, decorations, music, puja, aarti, food, dance, and overwhelming crowds! The puja is performed every morning beginning the first morning you welcome the elephant-God into your home.  At the end of your idol’s stay (1.5, 5, 7 or 9 days depending on the family), the idol is immersed in the river.  Aarti is another ritual performed every night while the idol is in your home.  I haven't really figured out the difference between puja and aarti other than the times they take place.  While candles and incense are lit, there is some chanting, clapping, and bell-ringing.  After this is complete, you wave your hands over the flames, and move them up over your head, sort of like you’re bathing your head in the smoke/scent.  Then, you may present the idol with a flower and take prasad.  Prasad is kind of equivalent to the tasteless communion cracker we’re given in Church.  I say tasteless because in comparison to prasad, it is.  Prasad is usually something extremely sweet - a molasses-like candy, a white sugary candy somewhat like the dinner mints at Chinese restaurants, or even a slice of pear or banana.  And I’ve been particularly intrigued by the inclusiveness of Hinduism.  Here I am, a Christian, not a Hindu, and I am honored with taking part in their rituals, and accepting prasad.  Even when I go out to temples, or pass by the Ganapati idols sitting on the stages along the busy roads for the festival, there is always a guard there waiting to give me prasad if I stop to pray, or even admire the idol.

To welcome the celebratory spirit of Ganapati Festival, a few of us from the program decided to get mehandi (henna) done.  We found a small stand inside one of the malls and spent the next couple of hours completely hypnotized by the smooth, creative hands of the artists.  First, we flipped through the book of designs, ooh-ing and aah-ing at the intricate patterns and styles.  I ended up pointing to a few that I particularly liked, and telling the young man to do anything similar to them.  He set to work, beginning with the underside of my hands.  I was completely mesmerized.  Circles, swirls, dots, and lines in every direction and no direction at all.  It’s incredible to watch them work, squeezing the bag of gooey, mud-like dye just enough to create the perfect thickness for the line they draw next.  I have no idea how they decide what they’re going to draw, but it always turns out beautifully, and it always seems so effortless.

After the first side, I had to sit for 5-10 minutes while my hands dried a little bit before he could do the backs of my hands.  Again, I become completely absorbed in the subtle movements of his hand while mine become works of art.  We had to be super careful not to touch anything for a little while, which was somewhat handicapping when I got home and realized my keys were at the bottom of my purse.  Good job, A.  Luckily, my host-grandfather was home to let me in.  I awkwardly scooted around my room, trying to avoid contact with things while the little dried bits of the henna started falling off all around me.  We somehow managed to eat dinner and change into our pajamas to go to bed with our hands hanging off the side of the bed.  We could have taken it off before bed, but the color gets darker the longer you leave it on.

In the morning, we stood over the sink to rub our hands together, shaking off the henna.  So.  Painful.  It’d be kind of like rubbing sandy dried mud in between your hands vigorously.  Finally, we gave up and used the back of a butter knife to scrape the rest of it off.  Finally, we managed to remove all of the dried henna without causing too much damage and lathered our hands up with coconut hair oil to maintain the color and relieve our raw skin.  The oil back-fired when I couldn’t hold my pen in class because it was too slippery...Oops.

It was still pretty the next morning, but after spending all day and night being oiled and exposed to the air, my mehandi is finally the perfect dark maroon color on my hands, and slightly lighter brown on my wrists/forearms.  I’m not sure I enjoyed the removal of it, but the final product is definitely worth it! Although a bit distracting while I’m sitting in class ;)

First hand

First side drying

My hands are in the bottom left corner!

My Indian Wardrobe!

I know I've been really bad about posting pictures with ME in them, which I didn't notice until my mother was overly thankful that someone else in my program finally posted a picture proving that I really was in India...

Anyways, for those of you dying to see me in true Indian style, or if you don't know what Indian style is, here's a couple of pictures of some of my favorite kurtis:

In front of the Program Center!

Security and Shopping

I’ve always heard about the heightened security in the States after 9/11, and being too young beforehand to make my own comparison I’ve taken everyone’s word for it.  But I’m currently experiencing firsthand that security in the U.S. is nothing compared to India.  TSA may think they’re causing headaches, but I go through similar security just to buy some tic tacs at Spencer’s (grocery store).

Last week, D and I went with our host-mother and host-sister to a nearby shopping mall that had a lot of great clothes.  Before we went in, we had to walk through a metal detector, show the security guards our bags, and D had to register her camera.  When we left, I had to show them my receipt so they could go through my bag and double-check every purchase.  This is the typical procedure at every grocery store and shopping mall I’ve been to.  You either have to walk through a metal detector or the guard waves the little metal-detecting wand over you and feels you up (female guard for females, don’t worry).  At the malls, you have to put your bag through the conveyor belt and then once inside you have to check your bag at the door of any store you enter.  The only time I’ve ever experienced this security outside of an airport in the U.S. is when I was entering government buildings.

I’m used to showing my AU ID to get into the dorms and some of the buildings after-hours back in D.C., but here we’re required to show our IDs just to enter campus to go to class throughout the day.  And showing it isn’t enough, I’m constantly getting yelled at because I don’t wear it around my neck.

I also read about a new initiative in the newspaper regarding security and anti-terrorism.  The local police trained about 5,000 students in the area about bomb detection and other ways to stay alert and report suspicious activity.  I’m experiencing a convoluted blend of feeling safer and more frightened at the same time because there has to be a reason behind the security.

On a lighter note, I’m extremely impressed by the customer service and sales persistence in most of the shops.  Whether it’s an expensive touristy shop, a department store, or a little street stall - I’m constantly being asked if I need help with anything.  If I glance at a beautiful pillowcase or kurta, all of the sudden a salesperson is pulling a heap of fabric out from the shelf and spreading them out on the counter so I can see every single color and/or design available.  The fabrics are usually either a beautifully soft silk or a light Indian cotton with fantastically detailed designs of elephants and peacocks and various swirls of color.  If it doesn’t fit quite right, they’ll tailor it for me.  If I look unsure, they’ll lower the price or throw something else into the deal.

One salesman followed J us around the entire store this weekend, going into extreme detail anytime my eyes lit up at something on the shelves.  Was I smitten with the little wooden Ganapati carvings? Did I like the jewelry on display? Well, Miss, there’s a whole room full of more gems upstairs... would I like to see it? Of course I would.  I went upstairs to find myself transformed into Abu in the treasure room of the cave (Aladdin) trying to resist the urge to touch the sparkling rubies in front of me.  Would I also like to see the entire room they have designated to scarves? I think I drooled a little bit when I was handed a scarf made of 100% Kashmiri silk.  It was lighter than air and the deepest, most beautiful colors that you’ll never find in the U.S.  I need to put a combination lock on my wallet.

Don’t worry, though! I’m finding some great deals.  I went into a bookstore while we were shopping to find the third Hunger Games book and I got it for the equivalent of $6.  I also crossed one of my goals off my list.  Find copy of The Jungle Books in hole-in-the-wall bookstore in India: check.  It was about $2.

The Chocolate Room

My newest guilty pleasure: the chocolate room.  It’s pretty much what it sounds like - only better.  For all the attention India gets for having spicy food, they don’t get nearly enough credit for their obsession with all things sweet.  Right down the road from my house is a restaurant/cafe called The Chocolate Room.  Obviously upon seeing the name I was giddy to try it out.  It exceeded my expectations by being the most adorable, cozy, classy chocolate-y joint ever.  It has very modern decor with comfy benches and armchairs.  And of course, they were playing American pop/hip-hop/rap/dance music like every other coffee joint I’ve been to so far.  I don’t understand it.

They have table service as well as glass displays full of chocolate-y treats such as a mini chocolate Taj Mahal for Rs 499.

They have crepes, pancakes, CHURROS (my favorite), sandwiches, and more as well as an extensive drink menu which includes coolers, choctails, coffee, warming mugs (they have a little flame underneath them!) and a million other tasty options.  They have a coffee with crumbled cookie at the bottom.  My head was spinning with all of my delicious options.  I finally opted for a caramel cuddle cup.

my "cuddle cup"

That’s right, the size I ordered was called a cuddle cup.  When I read this on the menu, it was like I’d just seen the most adorable puppy in the world and started squealing “that’s so cute!!” All I could picture was curling up in a loveseat by the fire with a nice book in the middle of a snowstorm.  Of course, that imagery doesn’t really fit in India, but nevertheless, I loved the idea of a cuddle cup.  Who doesn’t like to cuddle with their coffee?

Strange Encounters

We were inside of a stationary shop when a man wearing traditional pants with no shoes and no shirt walked into the shop (keeping in mind these shops don’t generally have doors... you just walk in off the street).  I looked to see who had just walked in (curiousity killed the cat) and this man bowed slightly and held his hands together to say “Namaste”.  Without thinking, I did the same, and then he held out his hand to me and started doing other spiritual gestures, touching his face, etc.  I must have look genuinely confused and perhaps a bit frightened because the shopkeeper gave the man a 1 Rupee coin and shooed him away with disgust.

I then realized that he was one of the street folk we’d been warned of in orientation (mostly beggars).  Many times, they’ll start doing things for you, blessing you, giving you things, etc. and then demand money for it before you’ve realized what’s going on.  In this case it was a little more, without sounding too insensitive, disturbing to me.  This man was walking around the streets, whipping himself.  The belief is I could have paid this man to whip himself, taking the punishment for my sins.  After whipping himself, I would essentially have a clean slate.  This was one experience that was a little more difficult than others to wrap my head around.

A Sweet Escape

We’ve all heard stories about the chaotic and overwhelming nature of India.  At first, it was kind of exciting because it was all so new, but after a few days it becomes... a lot to handle.  During orientation, we were asked to delete two phrases from our vocabulary for the next four months.  “I’m frustrated” and “this sucks”.  So, I will not say I’m frustrated, I am simply... overwhelmed.  That’s acceptable, right?

As I find myself playing frogger (I am the frog) trying to make it across the street every day, and tying my scarf to cover my entire face while I’m stuck in traffic or near a lot of dust/pollution, sometimes all I need is a quiet place to relax and get away from it all.

Well, I just discovered the perfect spot right in my home-stay! There is an adorable little rooftop patio full of beautiful plants and the solar panels that heat our water.  It’s high enough to breathe deeply and enjoy some peace and quiet.  The perfect little escape.

The view from the roof! (too bright to open my eyes)

A little meditation on the roof...

A Typical Day (Sort of)

My day usually begins around 7am to give my roommate and I both enough time for our bucket bath and getting ready for class.  Then we walk to the program center for our breakfast of a hard-boiled egg, banana/apple, yogurt, a sweet oatmeal-like dish, and a random Indian breakfast food (usually something spicy).  Then we have to basically run to our 830am class after having 20ish minutes to eat.  I think I’m still jet-lagged or just not getting enough sleep, because I started walking to class today without my backpack... it was a little embarrassing.

I made it on time for my first Contemporary India (CI) class though.  The Professor is great and seems more interested in having us learn useful information rather than giving us some random boring historical material to read.  He also encourages discussion on any topic of our choosing, whether that be the caves we should visit in Maharashtra, a discussion about Maoist rebels, or what we should order for lunch on F.C. Road.

After CI, I have a 2 hour break before my next class so I wander over to a coffee shop, Cafe Coffee Day (CCD) which is a big chain here.  There is air conditioning and their bathroom has toilet paper so I am happy! I do some of my course readings and enjoy my Chococinno (they have more inventive names than Starbucks!) It was 85 rupees.  After some time, I head back to campus for my 12pm class, Social Justice which I’m really excited about! It is such an interesting course and the professor is a great speaker.  She just has such a captivating way of speaking - you can't not pay attention.

After class, a few of us went to a local restaurant to grab some lunch.  I had a cheese masala dosa for around 60 rupees I think.  It was delicious! It was basically like a giant crepe cut into four parts and slightly crispier.  Inside was some sort of spicy rice-like or potato-y mixture, onions, and cheese as far as I could tell.  Either way, it was tasty.  I also had a lime soda, but it was sweet and had some sort of spices sprinkled on top.  I don’t ask questions...

While walking around in between classes, I managed to not pay attention to where my feet were slipping and sliding to (monsoon season, remember!) and I gracefully fell into a hole in the sidewalk.  It was actually somewhat terrifying because when my foot first got caught, I thought I had tripped, and then my left foot quickly sank, knee-deep, into a bottomless pit of God-knows-what.  I’m making it sound a little more dramatic than it really was, but that’s because I just finished cleaning my wound which covers the length of my shin, and it was so painful.  Alcohol wipes are not your friend.  But the giant roll of gauze in my First Aid Kit came in handy - thanks Mom & Dad!

Today’s Lesson: don’t place your foot in unidentified holes...

Getting Settled in Pune

Finally, after three days of orientation, we hit the road for our 2.5 hour bus ride to Pune.  Because of the monsoons, there are many potholes in the roads which just adds to the generally terrifying experience of driving in India.  Many roads have no traffic lanes and are shared between cars, buses, auto-rickshaws, motorcycles, pedestrians, cows, elephants, horses, and stray dogs.  Although I did see a sign that read “Please Follow Traffic Rules”, I can’t seem to figure out what exactly these rules are.  All of the vehicles simply honk at each other to communicate and let the others know they’re coming, and you generally just have to push your way into an intersection to get anywhere.  Not only are all of these different vehicles sharing the road, but they’re all close enough to touch.  Also, fun fact: there was recently a huge traffic jam caused on Laxmi Road (a big shopping area) because an elephant stopped to pee.

Upon arriving in Pune Friday afternoon, we had lunch at the Program Center and met our “Indian Buddies”, a group of Indian students from Pune who show us around and interpret for us when we do our internships later in the semester.  After a small tour of Fergusson College with our “buddies”, my roommate, D, and I went to our home-stay to meet our new family.  [I will use first letters to refer to everyone going forward]  Our host-mother is wonderful and her english is very easy to understand.  They also have a younger daughter and a son who’s closer to our age.  So far, we’ve been eating much lighter food and everything has been delicious and not too spicy.  I’m learning to eat with my hands too! Well, just the right one - the left hand is dirty.  I’m trying to write down everything I eat so I can make some when I come home! Most of the dishes are not made with meat though, so I may end up sort of accidentally becoming a vegetarian this semester.

After spending some time getting settled into our new homes yesterday (Saturday), we went around the city with our Indian Buddies.  We went to an amazing temple dedicated to Ganapati/Lord Ganesha.  The part where the idol sits inside was exquisitely decorated, the walls surrounding it were covered in silver and gold designs which I was told was actually pure gold.  It was incredible.  After the temple, we collected our shoes and headed to a fruit and vegetable market.  (Side note: at home, at the program center, in some of our classrooms, and at any temples, you remove your shoes which I love, it’s so comfy!)  We stopped for ice cream later on and I ordered a delicious Mango Mastani which is a mango milkshake with a scoop of mango ice cream on top.  It cost me Rs 40 which is about 80 American cents.  Yep, I could get used to this.  Then we traveled to Pune University and our last stop, the Pune Okayama Friendship Garden which was a beautifully peaceful Japanese garden.  A small escape from the noise and pollution of the city.  Unfortunately, I’ll be spending a lot of time with my face covered to protect my lungs from the dust and pollution.  I guess that just means I’ll have to buy lots and lots of beautiful scarves!

xo A

Orientation

A week later, and I’m finally all settled in... and have access to internet! This week has been somewhat overwhelming so I’m going to try to focus on the most important/interesting parts, starting with Orientation.

The first few days were rough.  I left the U.S. Sunday night and did not go to bed until Tuesday morning, India time, around 1am.  We left Mumbai the same morning to head to orientation at Durshet Forest Lodge.  It was a cool little “resort” in the woods somewhere between Mumbai and Pune.  We all stayed in bungalows (pictured below) that reminded me of my parent’s cabin back in Maine, but much damper.  The monsoons came late this year, but they’re here now! Everything in Durshet was wet/damp - our towels, our clothes, beds, shoes, everything.  Besides the moisture, orientation was my first introduction to many small changes I’d be facing.  For example, I will be showering by bucket bath for the next 4 months!  Luckily, my home-stay has hot water, which Durshet did not even though they claimed to in the mornings.

While in Durshet, we spent all day in different orientation sessions (health, safety, academics, culturally appropriate behavior, spoken Marathi, etc. etc.) and then we would break for meals and tea.  We were fed Punjabi food which is what you normally get when you go out for Indian in the U.S.  It’s much heavier and more difficult to digest which I didn’t learn until we got to Pune.  A lot of it was also way too spicy.  I tried the tomato and spinach soups and couldn’t even tell that’s what they were because all I tasted was hot, liquid spices.

We finally got some exercise Thursday morning when we trekked up to a tribal village near Durshet.  I have never seen anything so beautiful.  The monsoons make the land so lush and green - it was incredible.  We passed a few rice paddies on the way up, and encountered more at the village.  One of the village women even showed us how to grind the rice into flour, and how to pound a different kind of rice to remove the shells (pictured below).  I tried to savor the fresh air and peaceful views, as I knew I’d be thrown into the city’s chaos very soon.