Happy Holi!

India abounds with holidays. There is probably a different holiday celebrated daily somewhere in the country. I have rarely even had a full week of classes because we have so many days off due to holidays. This week held by far the best holiday I have witnessed here in India. On Wednesday, March 11 we celebrated Holi. Holi is the Hindu ‘Festival of Colors’ and is fabulous.

Celebrations began on Holi Eve. On campus, a couple hundred of people gathered on a field. There was a big bonfire, lots of drunk people, a DJ, and a lot of dancing. A couple people decided to start the color fest a little early- I ended up with a half green face, and much anticipation for the next day.

Wednesday morning the big fun began. Everyone dressed in clothes they knew would never be the same again. We set off with water guns and bags of brightly colored powder. About two minutes down the road we had our first encounter. There were a couple younger boys standing on the side of the road, watching us intently, as we were them. When we reached them there was a moment of unsureness, and then yelling of “Happy Holi!” as we ran at each other with handfuls of colored powder. And that was that and we continued down the road, so excited for more. After a few more minutes of walking we reached a boys hostel and were immediately bombarded by guys with bottles of dyed water, and of course with the shouting of “Happy Holi!”. We continued walking and had several more similar encounters. Finally we reached an area called Gops where the real Holi celebrations were happening. Everyone was running around and yelling and throwing colors at everyone else. Just minutes after we joined in the fun, most of us were barely recognizable because we were so covered in colors. It was good, not only because we got to throw colored powders at everyone all day, but because I didn’t feel as if I was viewed as such a foreigner- we were all the same color. It was the only day that when someone asked to take my picture I said yes and didn’t think they were simply taking my picture because I looked different.

Things at Gops died down around lunch time so I headed back to my hostel for food. After lunch I went into the showers and the floors were all sorts of colors. After my shower I still had a blue forehead and lots of other colored skin, as did most other people. You could definitely tell if someone had been a party-pooper that day because they didn’t have any unusual colors on them.

Sometime later in the afternoon I was invited to a party. Not thinking it was going to be a colored powder party, I dressed in (my only pair of) jeans and a dark t-shirt, just in case. I was hoping people wouldn’t laugh at my blue forehead. We arrived at the party to find that it was just as colorful as campus had been previously, and we were the clean out of place ones. Pretty quickly I was again covered in colors. There was one table full of big community buckets of colored powder. There were also huge tubs of pink-dyed water, which I got a bucket of poured on my head. Followed by an egg. My blue jeans are now purple jeans. Everything that was in my purse now has a pink tinge. And now 5 days later my skin is still a nice pink/magenta tint. I’ve been called Violet Beauregard (the girl that turns into a blueberry on Willy Wonka) multiple times, and rightly so. Everything I touch turns pink, really. My bed, clothing, phone, even a computer mouse that I used have pink on them now. The never-ending color was well worth it though, as Holi was one of my favorite days spent in India yet.

P.S. Watch out next March if you’re near me- I plan on bringing this holiday home.

A Typical Week at the University of Hyderabad

Sorry I haven't updated much lately- we no longer have wireless at our dorm so everything takes a long time. The past couple of weeks I have just been hanging out in Hyderabad, so here is a description of a typical week for me. Campus photos coming someday...

Monday
My week begins around 8am Monday mornings. I get ready for class and go downstairs for breakfast. Breakfast is served daily from 8-9am. Breakfast always consists of bananas, cereal, toast, and hard boiled eggs, and then there is a daily change between french toast, pancakes, oatmeal (known here as porridge), or some sort of Indian breakfast- often idlis or an Indian style grits. While sitting at the breakfast table we are served eggs/omelets and fresh juice (grape, watermelon, cheiku, banana, etc.).
(An alternative to this is a few of us sitting on a train, coming home from a weekend excursion. We get back to campus at some point in the morning, and sometimes run to class, sometimes don’t make it.)

After breakfast I hop on my bicycle and ride approximately 1.5 miles from my dorm (known here as a hostel) down to class. On Monday I have my first class from 9-10:45am. It’s called Thought and Culture of India and is taught by a visting professor who normally teaches at Miama University in Ohio. All the students in this class are study abroad students from the US (and one from Norway). My next class is Anthropology of Complex Societies from 11am-1pm. This class is a “normal” university class with mostly Indian students. Class culture is a bit different from what I’m used to. When the professor enters students stand and always refer to him as ‘sir.’ After this class I take my long bike ride back to the hostel for lunch.

Lunch is served daily from 1-2pm. There is a serve-yourself buffet line that has bean salad or fresh veggies, a fruit, curd (aka yogurt), roti (a flat bread), and a sweet (often gulab jamun or some other sweet ball of dough or other typical Indian sweets). Next is another buffet area where a kitchen worker serves us rice, a vegetable curry type dish or two, often some fried somethings, and dal (lentils). Lunch is nice because it is always vegetarian. Meals are usually followed by chai and sonf (anise seeds used for mouth refresher and good for digestion.

After lunch I usually rest for some time, do Hindi homework, or go to campus to attempt internet usage, which is not usually all that successful. I have Basic Hindi class from 4-5pm. After class sometimes I go with some friends to get chai and samosas, or just head back to the hostel to wait for dinner. My bike ride home from Hindi class is always the best because of the amazing sunset I get to see every day. And it’s not quite scorching hot anymore by the evening, so that’s nice. Sometimes I plan my bike rides to campus and back based on the heat- it’s sometimes nice to go a couple hours early just to avoid the crazy heat.

Dinner is served daily from 7-8pm. It’s pretty much the same as lunch, except not completely vegetarian. And dessert is ice cream every night.

After dinner time is often spent lounging around- doing homework or watching movies. Sometimes we will go into town, but that is quite a process as it takes so long to do anything or get anywhere here.

Tuesday
Breakfast routine repeats. After breakfast is some down time. Then I have Indian Philosophy class from 12-1pm. Lunch 1-2pm. Rest. Hindi class 4-5pm. Meditation class 6-7pm. Dinner 7-8pm. Hindi tutor Avinash from 8-9pm.

Wednesday
Breakfast. Thought and Culture of India 9-10:45am. Anthro of Complex Societies 11am-1pm. Lunch, often eaten at the student center due to lack of bike time. Indian Philosophy 2-4pm. Hindi class 4-5pm. Rest after 7 hours of class. Dinner. Sleep.

Thursday
A repeated Tuesday. Often ended with a train ride out of town to begin a weekend excursion.

Friday, Saturday, and Sunday
The weekend goes two ways. If I’m in Hyderabad it is a pretty relaxing weekend. We hang around our hostel, sometimes ride to campus to get on the internet. Sometimes we will go into town for shopping, and sometimes we go into town to see the Hyderabad sites (Golconda Fort, Charminar, zoo, Buddha statue, etc.).

The Glorious Indian Railways (Chennai Weekend, Part 3)

When we arrived at the Chennai train station I already knew we were going to have some difficulties. When we had booked our tickets, we didn’t know about the wait list. After we booked our tickets we found out about the wait list and realized that we hadn’t actually booked tickets, instead we were on the wait list. Not only were we just on the wait list, we were around numbers 267 and 268 on the wait list. So when you’re on the wait list it means that you might make it on if some people cancel or don’t show up. But if there aren’t any open seats, or if you have trouble communicating with or bribing the ticket examiner, then you sit general class. Any time that we mentioned to someone that we might have to ride in general class they cringed and had “Oh my goodness” looks on their faces. To avoid sitting in general class we were told to just sit in the nicer part of the train and ask the ticket examiner to find us a seat. So that’s what we did. There was some sort of weird communication and we ended up just wandering through the train cars looking for the women’s car. We finally found it, but it was shut off from the rest of the cars so we couldn’t get in. We sat in the car next to the women’s compartment for quite a while, just waiting for someone to help us figure out what to do. We didn’t mind where we were waiting though, because it was just about the nicest car in the train. Eventually a ticket examiner came through and was ready to yell at us for sitting where we were until he realized we just needed help. He told us we had to wait for the train to stop, jump off, and run to the women’s compartment.

We stepped into the women’s compartment and were shocked by the condition of the car that it was. People were packed together like sardines. There was absolutely no sitting room, not even any standing room, for us. So we ended up posting up by the bathroom for a while until some people got off and there was room for us to sit. We were going to be on the train for a good 12 hours or so, so we at least needed somewhere to sit. We didn’t even have to look for seats once people got off because everyone wanted us to sit with them so we just let the eager Indian ladies seat us next to them.

For a while we sat awkwardly, hugging our luggage with no intention of ever letting go of it due to all the horror stories we have heard about theft on the trains, especially in the crappiest class ever. At one point a lady with a basket of samosas was walking through the train. We hadn’t had dinner so we bought some samosas hoping that they would hold us over through the ride. The samosa lady posted up near us. All of the sudden she hit me and told me to put my bag on the ground, as I’m sure I looked ridiculous holding onto a giant backpack. I shook my head and continued sitting with the bag on my lap. A few minutes later she hit me again, this time a little harder, and told me again to put my bag on the floor, again. Again, I refused. Then a few minutes after that I felt a little tug on my hair and turned around to the samosa lady combing her fingers through my ponytail. When she saw that I didn’t mind she immediately demanded for a hair brush. By then just about the whole car was watching. I think everyone was quite entertained, including me. I ended up with a nice Indian braid. Then she moved on to Nina and did the same. After that she (through a kind translator) asked me why I was not wearing a bindi. I told her I didn’t have one so she pulled hers off her forehead and stuck it on mine. She didn’t have more so she borrowed a bottle of red nail polish and put a dot of that on Nina’s forehead. All of the old Indian ladies throughout the ride kept telling us how beautiful we were with the braids and the bindis. We only got in trouble with them because we were not wearing any bangles, as they say all ladies should always wear bangles.



By this time we were in with all the Indian ladies. Everyone wanted to talk and find out who we were and what we were doing, etc. My favorite part was when some nice ladies on our bench started feeding us. One gave us some sort of fruit that I have never seen before. It was reddish-brown on the outside and the size of a kiwi. When we ate it the texture was like a pear but it tasted like a mix between an apple and a coconut. I later found out that it’s called a cheiku. Then another lady pulled out two rolled up pieces of greasy newspaper, wrapped in string, and insisted that we take them. We unrolled the newspaper, which was lined with a banana leaf, and inside was a dosa. Dosas are like giant pancakes, but thinner and crunchier, and delicious. They’re generally stuffed with masala potatoes or something similar (although these particular dosas were not), and come with a delightful coconut curry type sauce and a chili sauce to dip them in. Before we started eating the dosas I said something about “spicy”, which the lady who made them heard and assured us they would not be hot at all. By the time I finished eating mine I had to drink almost all of my water because my tongue was so on fire. It was delicious and made appreciated though, especially since we hadn’t had dinner.

Eventually everyone started nodding off, somehow. I thought I could sleep anywhere, but found out that the one place I absolutely cannot sleep is in the general compartment of an Indian Railways train. I think throughout the whole night I maybe got half an hour of broken sleep, but probably not even that much. This was first of all due to the fact that there were on average six people sitting (sleeping) on a bench made for three. At one point I felt something moving under my legs and realized it was a woman crawling down there to sleep. All possible space, including the aisle, was occupied by bags and bodies. Also throughout the whole night the train made multiple stops, during which people were getting on and off at each one. At one point someone got on the train and was trying to fit into some unoccupied space and accidentally stepped on one of the women sleeping in the middle of the aisle, who was of course in the way of anyone who tried to move. All of the sudden I heard lots of yelling and a few of the women around me were laughing. The girl sitting next to me translated a little of it to me, and at one point started laughing and told me “She just called her a buffalo!” Quite entertaining. That was just a tiny part of the noise of the night though. People were constantly yelling at each other, and babies were constantly crying. One mother didn’t realize that yelling at your screaming baby does not silence it.

Finally, after the longest train ride of my life, we pulled up to the Secunderabad train station and got off that train as quick as we possibly could, and, at last, made our way back home.

As much as that train ride was one of the absolute worst environments I have been in, it was also one of the best and by far one of my favorite and most memorable Indian experiences yet.

Chennai Weekend (Part Two)

After the music festival we decided to go out for coffee with some people that we had met at the festival. We stayed out so long that when we were ready to go back to our hostel it was almost time for the sun to come up. Especially because we were at the ocean, we couldn’t just skip the sunrise when it was so near. So we went back to the beach and watched it rise. At first it was only us, the fishermen, and a few other early-risers. As time went on more and more people showed up, many of them doing yoga or playing frisbee or cricket on the beach. Many stray dogs came out, playing and looking for breakfast.

We also decided it was time for breakfast. One of the guys that we were with, Rohit, had a cousin (Nela, Nula, Neha?… I’m not sure of her name) who lived nearby and said we could come over for breakfast. I was excited because I had not yet been to an Indian home or had home-cooked Indian food. The cousin had a cute little apartment that was full of all sorts of colors- there were green and purple walls, and the bathroom wall tiles were Mickey Mouse. She had two bathrooms- one western style and one Indian style (hole in the floor). For breakfast we had tea (no meal is complete without tea) and parratas. Parratas are some sort of cooked dough/bread that you use to eat a sort of curry or lentil type meal with. It seems that most Indian breakfasts are pretty small and include some sort of dough and a small vegetable/lentil dish. While eating breakfast we sat around the TV and watched MTV and Mr. Bean. After breakfast the cousin wanted to make us lemonade. She made it fresh, of course, and with salt instead of sugar. Nina liked it… I thought it tasted like lemon juice, eggs, and salt. Yum.

During the day Sunday Nina and I had been planning on doing normal touristy stuff- vistiting temples, forts, and museums. But after talking with some of the locals we had so many other options so we decided to travel about an hour south to a little town called Mahabalipuram with a coupld of our new Indian friends, Rohit and Kunal. So we packed our bags, caught a bus, and headed south. We arrived to a very tourist-filled town. I was so surprised to see so many white people (most from Europe it seemed), but it was a nice change because we just blended right in. The first thing we did was find a place to stay. We settled on a Rs. 300 (about $6) room with two tiny beds, a Indian toilet/shower, and some lizard-looking creatures. I could try and describe it more but I don’t think I could ever get the picture out to you. Just imagine the crappiest place you’ve ever seen that you would never even consider walking into in the US- then times that by at least 10 and you get our room. It was all just part of the experience.

Mahabalipuram is known for its temples and beaches. Since we were so tired from not sleeping the night before, all we did Sunday evening was have delicious South Indian dinner (masala dosas, paratas, and other things I don’t know the names of- it was so helpful having natives with us to order!), take a beach walk, and walk around all the tourist shops. After that we called it an early night so that we could wake up early Monday morning to go to the temples and other tourist sights.

Monday morning- by 8am we were at the Shore Temple. We went up to the ticket counter and were appalled to find out that tickets for Indian citizens cost Rs. 10 (20 cents) and tickets for foreigners cost Rs. 250 ($5). I tried to imagine what it would be like in the US if we charged foreigners more money than we charged locals for anything. We got over it, bought our tickets, and went to the temple. It was right on the shore (hence its name). I’m pretty sure it was all carved out of one giant piece of stone also, so that’s pretty cool. After the temple we did the rest of the touristy stuff in town- climbed many stairs, got a nice view of the town, saw a lighthouse, saw some monkeys and cuuute baby pigs, and visited a couple more temple type places.

We had a train to catch back to Hyderabad Monday afternoon, so we were back on the bus to Chennai by noon. The train ride is a story in itself, so once again- Chennai Weekend blog, to be continued…

Chennai Weekend (Part One)

This weekend we had yet another holiday. Monday the 26th of January was India's Republic (Independence) Day- therefore no class. Nina and I decided it was about time to get out of Hyderabad and doing some Indian exploring. It's starting to turn out that nothing in India never works as planned, which this time made for the best weekend so far.

We began our journey on Thursday afternoon. To make sure we caught our 7pm train in Secunderabad we left campus extra early with lots of time to spare. So we thought. But then the Indian obstacles jump in... like sickness, missing the first connecting train, and then getting on the slowest rickshaw in town to make sure to get to the Secunderabad station on time. Moments before we finally got to the station our train departed, without us, of course. I was not surprised. I was already learning to never count on Indian transportation. Since it was a holiday weekend and we had booked our tickets way ahead of time we knew that there would be no tickets available for any later trains to Chennai that day, so we thought maybe we could try to just get a ticket anywhere. So we got in the ladies ticket line thinking it would be easy. That was an experience of its own. It's a madhouse sort of line. Everyone is yelling and pushing and crazy! Long story short- we got no new ticket and returned to campus for the night.

The next morning we headed back to Secunderabad to see what we could do about getting a ticket. After talking to some special official people (who were excited to talk about Obama when they found out we were from the US) we got hooked up with some tickets and were finally on our way Chennai. We found our seats in the sleeper class and got settled. The Indian boys surrounded us and took turns sitting next to and staring at us throughout the ride. Tourists (white folk) are just not common in the Hyderabad area. After a long, cold, 13 hour ride we made it! We got off the train and were bombarded by rickshaw drivers trying to give us a ride. So we stepped into a little breakfast place and had delicious masala dosas. After breakfast we dropped out bags off at our hostel and went exploring.

The first place we went was a part of town called Mylapore. In Mylapore we visited the very elaborate and beautiful Kapaleashwarar Temple, pictured below:


The rest of the day was spent somewhat lazily, as we were so tired from the train ride. We spent part of the day napping and most of the rest of it on Marina Beach (on the Bay of Bengal), the 2nd longest city beach in the world. It's so different to be on a beach on a very hot day and see hardly anyone swimming. For the few swimmers their swimwear included tighty-whities for the guys and saris/skirts for the ladies.


We happened to be in Chennai during a big arts and music festival that was going on at one of the universities. There was a DJ from London (DJ Rekha) who Nina had been wanting to see for a while that was playing the festival that evening- for free! So we went to the festival and got in the intense search line. They tried to confiscate Nina's malaria pills. And water was not allowed inside- and there was none for sale inside. We had to lie about having cameras because they would've taken them too. We walked into to some crazy Indian metal band playing. They finished and it was time for DJ Rekha. Her music is sort of a mix of hip hop and Bhangra music, and lots of fun! Almost only males were dancing, but we decided that we would ignore the stares and dance anyway. And it was so much fun! Some of the Indian boys tried to teach us some dances, but that didn't work too well. I got a little video clip of some Indian fellas dancing. Since cameras weren't allowed I hid it, so it's not quality, and definitely did not capture the awesome dancing we saw, but gives you an idea. Enjoy.



Since it was such an eventful weekend and I have so much more to say, I'm breaking this story into parts. So this is the end of part one. Chennai Weekend blog, to be continued...

Ramoji Film City

Yesterday (17 January) was a long but eventful day. My friends Nina, Darlisa, and I decided to take a day trip to the Ramoji Film City, a largely Telugu movie producing studio. According to the Guinness Book of World Records, RFC is the largest film studio complex in the world. It's just outside of Hyderabad, the city that I live in.

We started the morning with delicious banana pancakes at our dorm and were on the road (which means heading from our dorm to the main campus gate) by 8:15am. The night before I had left my bike at the (20 minute ride away) main gate, so I rode Nina's bike and had her hop on the back, like all the Indians do. We got to a hill that I couldn't pull both of us up so we started walking and all of the sudden our house man, Mr. Das, pulled up on his scooter- so I got my first Indian scooter ride, ha. Took the bus from campus to Medhipatnam (a popular bus stop), and then went on a search for our next bus. We saw it far away so got to run through the crowd of Indians, who were of course laughing at us, only to miss it. So we caught a bus to a place called Koti, where we waited about an hour for a bus to take us to Ramoji, and then decided to take a rickshaw as the bus never came. I prefer a rickshaw anyway though- the buses are often ridiculously crowded and always smell strongly of body odor and other not-pleasant smalls that I haven't figured out yet. Although our rickshaw broke down about every five minutes on the way to the film city, the trip only took about three hours altogether (to get right outside of the city, ha).

We walked up to the entrance of Ramoji and there were lots and lots of excited children running around (we were 3 of them). We got tickets for 300 rupees (appx. $6-7), and were on our way. We then got on another bus, and after about 15 minutes or so riding through the hills and palm trees, we arrived! The first thing we did was ride the free rides in Fundustan. Some pictures showing our excitement:


After the rides we explored the Fundustan area, which is basically the play area. We toured through a ridiculous "magic" house. A sign recommended that pregnant women should not go into this magic house, but once completed I thought that was a very silly recommendation, as all it was was a semi-dark walking path with silly mirrors and fake snakes. Maybe my American mind is just used to more complex and exciting things. We watched a little bit of a show where some people were dancing, ate lunch, and visited the Indian version of the "wild west."
After Fundustan we hopped on a little red tour bus and drove around the film city. We saw lots of film sets and statues and other interesting things. One part that I laughed about was a replica of Arizona- all it had was cacti.

After the bus tour all three of us were exhausted and ready to head home. We trekked to the bus stop outside of the film city and got on a bus to Secunderabad. While on the bus a cute little old lady laid her head on my shoulder and took a nap. And I joined her. From Secunderabad we waited over an hour for a train that never came. By 6:15pm I decided that I was getting home by rickshaw (dinner is at 7 and I did not want to miss that). So we started our long rickshaw ride home. Along the ride I noticed that this one motorcycle with two guys on it kept riding past/alongside us and the fellas kept looking at us- we're used to this, but this time it seemed to be lasting longer than normal. All of the sudden I felt something hit me in the leg. I looked around and found a little wad of paper on the floor of the rickshaw. I opened it and read "Plees Call" and it had a number. After that the boys drove extremely closely alongside us and having a conversation with us for about 15 minutes. One told me that I could come to his house for dinner and meet his mom and dad, haha. So after a long day of travel and some semi-traveling-frustration, the end of the travels made me laugh and had me in a good mood for the rest of the evening.

Happy Sankranthi!

Happy Sankranthi everyone! Today marks the beginning of the harvest season in India. According to Wikipedia, Sankranthi is the celebration of the sun transitioning into Capricorn on its celestial path. Also, no school today! So we had the day to explore town and find the Sankranthi festivities!

My day began with lunch served on a banana leaf with traditional South Indian food. No utensils- I'm learning how to eat rice and such with my fingers and it is quite fabulous. I'm going to try and bring that back to the U.S. It's like getting to play with your food at every meal. Awesome.

After lunch a group of fellow students and I hopped into a rickshaw to begin our Sankranthi festivities. Actually, we fit 11 people into a 3 person limit vehicle. That was cozy. A quick photo shoot occurred:



After the quick, but crazy rickshaw ride we arrived at Shilparamam, a market in town which often is the grounds of festivals and shows it seems. A group of us went in (for Rs. 20 each. Appx. 40 cents) and split up to wander around. They have all Indian souvenirs one would ever really need. My friend Nina and I shopped around for a bit, pausing for the random crazy things going on. There were painted people singing and dancing and walking through the market, some crazy happening with a man walking around with his neck in a cow's mouth (yes, in a cow's mouth), little girls singing on a stage, and awesome kite flying everywhere. Also, here I know what celebrities feel like in the U.S. I have had my picture taken by soooooo many random Indian folks, I think that if I charged them I would already be rich. It's weird, but I take their pictures in return.





After Shilparamam, the group went on a journey to the lake. Took a rickshaw to the train station, this time only with 9 people, so not quite as crammed. Waited not too long, got on a train, realized it was the wrong train, and had to jump off... while trying to find 2 of ours friends who got into a different car, who we found as the train was pulling off. Oh and then we realized it actually was the right train so felt a little stupid. We finally made it on a train, not the right one, but it got us somewhat close to where we were going. After a long train and rickshaw trip we finally made it to the lake. It was dark by then, and most of the festivities had died down. So we had an amazing dinner and then strolled around the lake area for a while before returning to the train station (where we made at least 1o new Indian friends while waiting for the train). We rode the train to Lingampally, a neighborhood nearby my campus. Then we caught a bus from Lingampally to campus. And I had to ran and jump on it while it was still moving, apparently a common occurrence. Got to campus, rode my bike (with my friend/roomie Ashleigh on the back- another common Indian occurrence) the nice 15-20 minute ride to my dorm, and now am off to bed, after a nice long day full of Sankranthi celebrations and Hyderabad traveling education.