From Nature Cure by M. K. Gandhi

Excerpt from forward by Morarji Desai:

The human body is a wonderful and perfect machine.  If it gets out of order it can set itself right without medicine, provided it is given a chance to adjust itself.  If we are not abstemious in our habits of food, etc. or if our mind is agitated by passion, emotion, or anxiety, the body cannot eliminate all the refuse and that part which remains uneliminated turns into toxins whose presence gives rise to symptoms which we call disease.

Well, I don't know what happened today.  It's my first day of classes.  I was nervous last night and this morning.  Mostly about taking the bus, haha.  I got up, did some yoga, had a hot breakfast and got to the bus stop early.  Though I waved for it, my university bus flew right by me.  I successfully got on the public bus, however  In a bit of a frantic state, I forgot that women always go to the front of the bus while men and boys take the back.  I got on the back and then realized it rather immediately.  The men were fine but eventually one of them told me to move to the front, making me push my way through a bunch of boys.  The bus money-taker guy told another girl going to the university to help me know when to get off which she kindly did.  Then as I walked through campus I got lost.  I have no idea how.  I was successful in navigating last Thursday.  Must have been nerves.  So I looped around and found my building eventually.  So now I'm in the "seminar hall" of my building with four other students, waiting.  I thought I had this whole men-on-the-left, women-on-the-right thing down so I sat opposite the men.  Then, two women came in and sat on the men's side.  What?  Jeez.  

Like a Tourist

I'm at Varkala beach.  Yesterday we took a bus to a train to a rickshaw to the beach.  I took an Indian train!  I can't take any credit, though.  The French kids did all the work of figuring it out and asking people what to do/where to go.  We sat in general class and when we got on, Indian passengers informed us that we could have booked a sleeper car and laughed when we explained that we preferred this experience.  It was like being in a jail cell (I think) with 70 people.  We sat on a 2nd tier wooden bench.  We had to sit cross-legged and my ankle bones hurt pressed against the wood and metal slats.  The ride was smooth.  And there were fans and a breeze.  Not bad.  A 2-hour ride.  We eventually made it to the resort area near the beach after haggling over a rickshaw.  Five of us in one rickshaw plus the driver.  The hostel in the French guide book was full so we split up to ask around at other resorts.  We finally found one for 1000 rupees for two rooms.  We then got busy to swim.  The waves were incredible.  Huge.  It was so much fun.  We then got dressed and did some shopping, then ate dinner.  And all-night happy hour ensued.  It was fun.  I got to Skype Jay from the table for a bit.  That was nice.  Next to the beach on the other side of the planet and my boyfriend gets to catch a glimpse of it.  Oh, technology.  We then went to Rock N Roll cafe which was playing the most depressing music but Chloe hooked up her iPod and the place turned into a dance floor.  At dinner Celine and I talked a bit about how strange and magical it is to be here in India and with each other.  She summarized, "It's going to be a good year."

I awoke to the sunrise this morning and decided to go out for a chai and then visited with Ramu, a shopkeeper who helped us find our hotel.  He has been selling since he was 11.  We swapped mini versions of life stories.  And of course then I visited his shop and dropped 800 rupees.  And now here I am at a cafe enjoying the sound of the pounding waves and cawing crows.  While my breakfast was being prepared, I could hear someone in back vomiting.  Oh, that Indian contrast.  It's always there.  That tomato and onion omelette sure was tasty.  I got to Skype with Jay again until my phone died.  Crazy technology.  So far I think that we're doing pretty well with all this.

Just an update to my last entry:  In total, I probably waited for about 1.5 hours at the police station.  Manoj said that the superintendent was out and I'd have to come back but after I completed my forms (4 copies of the same form), he told me to "come" and suddenly I was before the superintendent.  Manoj and another woman hurriedly and nervously presented him with papers that he signed and tossed aside and I worried that I was dressed and behaving too informally.  He asked me some questions about my time here and was very friendly with me.  And then I was on my way.  I then went shopping across the street for some school clothes and a formal outfit for my presentations.  I had a personal shopping attendant.  She took me from floor to floor via elevator.  It was all very fancy.  I have to get some of the items tailored now but I don't know where to go or how to get there.  Then I took an auto rickshaw to the bus station.  There I bought some fruit, flip flops (the finest in India, I'm told, for $3) and snacks and then stood amongst the crowd, not knowing what bus to get on.  I wasn't asking anyone either.  I just needed a little break.  But a kind woman approached me and asked where I wanted to go.  She then showed me my bus and I hopped on.  I must have looked spaced out.  Haha.  So kind of her.  Another productive day in India.  The housemates all had dinner together then.  When Chloe and Celine told Marsha of my experience at the police station, she was shocked and pointed out that if you're American, it takes 1.5 hours, if you're French, it takes four hours, and if you're Ugandan, it takes four days.  Ah, probably true.  

A Year-Long Scavenger Hunt

I'm in a strange dark hallway of the Kottayam police station.  I poked my head into many offices and three different people directed me where to go.  I made it a bit closer each time.  I'm supposedly meeting with Manoj who is out at lunch.  Now a man invited me into a cubicle of sorts and asked me to be seated to wait.  There is a desk in front of me with five messy, ancient-looking stacks of papers and file folders.

The French girls brought me here.  We took a bus.  I'm amazed at how well they navigate.  I hope I am that familiar in two months.  They invited me to take a train with them to the beach tomorrow.

I'm here because within seven days I must complete a form and be interviewed by the superintendent of police to register here as a foreigner.  The girls said that they came twice.  Once to find out which documents they needed to provide and again the following day where they waited four hours in line to meet with the superintendent.  They said he is very busy and that I should bring a book and music.  They said that when Marsha did this she had to come back four times.  C'monnnn bindus.  Let's get this done today.

Maybe this will get old quickly but something I love about India is that there's so much random waiting.  And thus far I don't mind it.  Because I'm here in this weird room, chilling by myself, everything around me looks 60 years old, beat up, rusty & dirty, I've got a nice ceiling fan breeze happening and I can hear the chaotic toots and honks of various vehicles, squawks of crows, and an occasional flush of a toilet somewhere which sounds like it's right behind me.  All I have to do in this moment is wait and observe.  As I look at these stacks of files I wonder if there is a sense of organization to them.  Is it a file storage area?  Are the files active and in a backed-up work queue?  Oh god.  Now I hear someone peeing.  Like, right behind me.  But I'm confused and don't know where it's coming from.  And I'm afraid to turn and look.

Manoj has arrived.  He's rifling through the stacks to find a blank form.  It's definitely not a blank form kind of stack to me.  He collects my documents and photos.  I then fill out four copies of the same form and am told I have to come back Monday at 10am as the superintendent is out.  I explain that my classes begin at 10am on Monday and Manoj says he will give me his cell number so I can call him.  I don't get how that is a solution but we'll figure it out later.  He then asks me to write a letter to the superintendent stating my certificate of residency request.  After I complete it, I shuffle my folders and papers because I'm AR and like to tidy up my space and Manoj puts his hand up and says "Wait, wait."  I wasn't planning on going anywhere and then I realize he mistakes my AR for a social cue that I'm about to high tail it out of here and it becomes yet another moment of me realizing how American I am.  And how Jess I am.

So I'm not even sure what is happening here.  What am I doing and why?  It's like a yearlong scavenger hunt.  One clue at a time.  And I'm loving it. 

Home Sweet Home (will add more later. zzzz)

Super Productive. In India.

Today was pretty awesome.  I was super productive.  In India!   The French girls showed me the way to the bus stop and pointed out places to buy produce and other groceries.  Then they explained how to know which bus to get on, how much it costs and how to take it back home by myself at the end of the day.  I was full of trepidation about it because so much was happening at once.  We were crammed on this bus and two girls in adorable French accents are trying to explain things to me at the same time, I was trying to memorize landmarks, and just generally freaking out a little at my terrible sense of direction.  They sweetly walked me to my building before going to theirs, and they pointed out that the Gandhian Thought & Development Studies school is way fancier than their International Relations school.  Being a social worker, I've never gotten the good building for classes!  There's a really nice courtyard in the middle of the building with lots of greenery and pathways.  We said goodbye and I poked my head into the department.  I spent some time meeting the director who seems pretty great (he's the one who has been responding to my frantic emails all these months!).  I found out that classes are from about 10-1 with a lunch break from 1-2 and sometimes, the lecturers will require some afternoon sessions from 2-3, but sometimes not.  He said that, being a social worker, a lot of the material may be too elementary for me as many of the MA students are from non-social work backgrounds so there's a lot of intro info going on.  But he said I could add some classes from other departments if I'd like (International Relations, Philosophy, whatnot) or take up outside interests such as yoga, and spend time on my Rotary duties.  I don't have any flexibility in the courses I take between 10-3 but I like the low-pressure this allows, in general.

After our talk, an administrator was going to take me to exchange some currency so I could pay my tuition for the semester.  I followed him out into the courtyard, as if we were leaving, and a woman came by with a tray of chai.  Of course we each took a teacup and paused everything to drink it.  And then we were off.  We got in an auto rickshaw and went to a place down an alley.  Then upstairs in a building.  And a man took a long time to do something, or wait for something.  Everything feels like waiting here.  But everyone else always appears to be perfectly at ease with the flow.  I guess that makes sense for a multi-tasking American when challenged with a more laid-back relational way of doing things.  We got back to the university and I paid my tuition for the semester.  I then went to a different office to officially sign up for my hostel and paid for that.  I also went to the library to get a borrower application, then the bank to get an account application.  Then I hopped on the bus to head home earlier than I had thought.  So that was a good feeling.  I had earlier been hesitant about the idea of taking the bus home because I was still a bit confused but I must have been feeling pretty good after getting so much done that I was ready to take it on.  It was fine, of course.  I recognized my stop and everything.  Then as I walked from the stop home, I grabbed some fresh vegetables, eggs and other groceries.  I came home and cooked up some delicious vegetables and had a quiet afternoon here by myself.  I then went to work on the many documents I had to complete.  And I'm set for Monday.  Classes begin.  Woo hoo!

Tomorrow I have to go to the police station to register as a foreigner which I hear takes hours and hours (of waiting).  So I'm to bring a book and some music.  Then the girls are going shopping so I'm going to join them.  I need some Indian clothes.  I look a little funny to the Indians, I'm sure.  And my clothes are a bit too hot anyway.  I need bedding and towels also.  Pretty exciting.

Next blog post is a photo tour of my hostel.  You know it!

Day 1 of "Whose Life is This?"

Actually, no.  I've been saying that for many months now.  But I guess it's Day 1 of the Indian chapter of "Whose Life is This?"  Something like that.  

Well a lot has happened since my last post.  It's fun for me to read it and realize that that was just a few weeks ago.  

The short of it is that... I made a mad dash to Chicago one rainy day with my lovely friend Lisa and got my visa by the end of the day, no issue!  And, you know, I don't have a concept of the days really, but very soon after that I sold my car within 24 hours of listing it on Craigslist and only about two days later I hopped in a car with my love and we took a road trip to Portland, Oregon where he begins school in a week or so now.  We had hoped that my plans would work out so that I could join him for the fun and challenging adventure of packing, moving, finding a place to stay, etc.  But you just never know how those stars want to line up, especially when India is involved.  But they did!  Incredibly.  We made some fun stops to the Badlands, crashing with Jay's friend in Montana, hiking around waterfalls, couchsurfing, eating delicious food and dispensing cheese along the way.  And the weather was incredible and sunny the whole way.  Oh, and on the road, I got an email from the director of my department at MGU stating that classes would be delayed another week.  Which was extra great news because that just meant more time with Jay.  We then spent a couple weeks together in Portland, enjoying various sights, people, foods, and experiences while also meeting potential housemates and touring rental properties.  I think we made the most of it.  But somehow this crazy India thing I've been working on and talking about for over a year ended up coming to fruition, thus, our sad goodbye.  I'll skip those downer details; the low of that is pretty self-explanatory.  So I actually got on a plane.  And then another plane.  And then another plane.  And then stayed in a hotel.  And then got on another plane.  And then I was in Kerala.  India.  

A man met me at the airport nearby (the director of my program sent "one of his men" to "receive me") and helped me get onto a cab.  It was a two-hour drive to the city where my university is.  And not that the distance was that great, but the roads wind, the traffic is slowed by a variety of vehicles driving erratically and whatnot.  I opted for a non-AC car, thinking it would be nicer to have the windows down, getting some wind in my face and experiencing the variety of smells that India produces.  It’s usually in the high 80s here (for us fehrenheit folks) but it’s monsoon season so it’s muggy.  I was a little sticky but overall comfortable.  You would think I’m a first timer, as I eagerly invited the “variety of smells” of India to overcome me.  But I kind of like that combination of repulsive and divine fragrance.  It’s unmistakeable.  It hit me in New Delhi.  Right away.  And it was a familiar friend.  But I’ve found that Kerala smells different.  And for most of the car ride, I pretty much inhaled lingering aromas of cow poo and exhaust only.  I’m still identifying Kerala’s smell.  It’s a little more neutral, I think.  Warm and less polarized.  

So I was then delivered to the university where I briefly met the director of my department (Gandhian Thought & Development Studies) who asked the driver to take me to a different building to meet with an administrator about getting set up in the foreign students’ hostel (female verson).  The driver dropped me off and I spent a big ol’ hunk of time with the administrator.  I delved right into questions and logistics while he often paused, said nothing, then eventually asked a question like, “What is famous in your state that I might know?” or “Why do you want to come to India to study this?”  He was very curious but his demeanor was confusing at times.  But I bet my demeanor was confusing.  Who is so direct and non-personal?  Me, while he just wants to chill and discover what makes this American tick.  So I think I realized it quickly enough to take it a little easier.  And then he took me in his car to show me the hostel but on the way we stopped for a bite to eat.  Well, okay!  He ordered beet-root dosas.  And we got hot glasses of pink water.  I don’t know what that means.  But it tasted normal.  It probably wasn’t the best decision, but it was hot enough that it didn’t negatively affect me.  The dosas were a fantastic welcome to Kerala.  He then took me to his church which offered a beautiful view of the sun setting over the city.  It was a Catholic church (most names here are biblical and I definitely see more churches and rosaries than temples and Ganesh figurines).  There was a service being held so we went in.  Women on the left side, men on the right, shoes off.  The priest was saying things in Malayalam while the parishoners repeated the phrases back.  It soon ended and some stayed to pray quietly while others exited.  We were then off to the hostel.  

When we arrived, we were greeted by Marsha from Uganda.  She’s 26, bold, and a happy, energetic soul.  She was incredibly welcoming and showed me around, explaining who else lives here, etc.  I think my jet lag was hitting because I don’t remember a lot after that.  Was that yesterday?  Yikes.  I think it was.  Wow.  At some point two other girls arrived home from class.  Chloe and Celine (from France) are 19/20ish.  Celine is my roommate.  They’re incredibly sweet and funny.  They’re always laughing together.  I then took a shower and learned that cold showers are my destiny for a very long time.  But after the first 10 seconds it felt good.  Chloe made dinner and it was vegetarian, specially for me.  They scrounged up a bed sheet for me and made plans to take me to campus in the morning on the bus.  They’ve taken very good care of me.  Marsha has been here for a year already and is in her 2nd year of her program.  Chloe and Celine got here two months ago, thinking classes would begin in August, but they haven’t yet.  So they’ve been sitting in on classes with 2nd year students for something engaging to do.  

I went to sleep around 9pm but woke up at midnight or so and was wide awake and excited at the opportunity to chat online with Jay.  That was very, very nice.  And I eventually made it back to sleep around 3.  So that was day 1.  Thus far I think that I’m handling the jet lag much better than last time.  It’s strange how I don’t feel nervous about coming events.  Or unknowns.  I think that’s what India does to me and that’s what I love about being here.