It is almost impossible to have a bad day here because everything is so bright and beautiful. This is a country that appreciates making ordinary things beautiful.
xo
8.11.12
7.11.12
Election Day!
Four more years!
I am a very happy girl.
When I got to school this morning, it was about 9pm in the US and Obama was behind Romney in electoral votes. Then, by third hour, they were tied at almost 200 electoral votes. I was pretty nervous, but by lunch time, I got to read about an Obama victory!
I was disappointed to see that Indiana was Red after voting Blue last year, but Ohio was thankfully Blue. (No republican has ever won a presidential race without winning Ohio.)
I am a very happy girl.
When I got to school this morning, it was about 9pm in the US and Obama was behind Romney in electoral votes. Then, by third hour, they were tied at almost 200 electoral votes. I was pretty nervous, but by lunch time, I got to read about an Obama victory!
I was disappointed to see that Indiana was Red after voting Blue last year, but Ohio was thankfully Blue. (No republican has ever won a presidential race without winning Ohio.)
6.11.12
Zoom Zoom.
Initially though, it was somewhat terrifying. There are no traffic rules or signs or even lanes here. Rickshaws are always hitting people and each other. The first time your rickshaw speeds by a bus going the opposite direction with only a couple of inches in between is truly a heart-stopping moment.
Also, it's cheap. I can get from here to the heart of downtown for the equivalent of about $2.
Drivers however, are the most frustrating part of this entire country. Because I'm an obvious visitor to India, it is always assumed that I know nothing. This means that every time I get into a rickshaw, I have to fight to get the driver to use his meter. They always want to double the price too because they say that once they leave the slum, they'll never be able to find a customer who wants to come back. Also, if it's dark outside or raining, or hot, or windy, I should play double. I'm getting pretty tough though!
The other day, I was headed to Cooke Town to visit Claire. This trip usually costs around 60 rupees. It was really early in the morning though, so I knew I'd probably have to pay more. I agreed to pay 150R and not use the meter. Halfway there the driver says "300 Rupees."
I say, "No. 150"
"400 rupees."
"No 150."
"400."
"Let me out here."
"..."
"I said stop."
He takes me to Cooke Town and stops at a stop sign.
I throw 150 Rupees at him and run away, which was probably not the most mature way I could have handled it, but hey, at least I didn't pay 400 rupees ($8).
2.11.12
29.10.12
Honorary Hindu
We, Claire and I, agreed to save our trip to Hampi for a weekend when we could spend more time. Claire is also from Indiana and happens to live a 30 minute rickshaw ride away. Claire is what I like to call the-best-thing-that-could-have-happened-to-me-in-India. This meant that we had two days before school started to fill.
The process:
1. "I found a tour, it sounds pretty cool."
2. It is an overnight bus trip to tour a few Hindu Temples.
3. "There is this thing on the itinerary at 5 am, I think we get to see a band."
4. It will be cool to be around other tourists who are new to India.
Reality:
1. We were the only tourists. That should have been the first clue that we had no idea what we were getting into. All the people were native to Bangalore and were obviously very confused about why were there.
2. The bus ride was not overnight, it ended at 1am. We filed off the bus. Massive sleepy confusion followed. Then we got in a line. Not just any line, imagine the longest line at Kings Island, subtract the coaster and multiply it by five. The metal bars that defined the rows were nearly as tall as I was. The first two rows were already filled with people laying down, sleeping. So we, along with the others from our bus, sat on the ground. Concrete, rocks, bugs, lots of dirt.
This is the conversation that followed:
Me: "Claire, is this the band?"
Claire: "I am so confused."
Me: "But you said there was going to be a band. This is a bunch of old people sleeping on the ground."
We eventually learned that we were in line for tickets for the temple at Tirupathi, the most visited temple in India. We also learned that we were not on a tour of the temples, we were on a very sacred pilgrimage.
The building in front of the line said, "Opens at 6am."
That meant that we were about to wait in line for 5 hours in order to practice a religion we knew nearly nothing about. We sat with our knees to our chests because that's all there was space for. Then our tailbones started to ache so we crossed our legs until our ankles started to bleed from the rocks and concrete. Staying awake was difficult at this point. A combination of jet lag and being sedentary. But staying awake was also very easy because there was no position that didn't mean pain for some body part.
Of the three hundred people there by 3 am, there were a few men who had perched themselves on top of the bars. I figured that might offer some relief from the scrunched up position I'd been in for a 2 hours so I climbed up and sat. Everyone got silent. Everyone was staring. People took out their phones to take pictures, people asked if I was really going to Tirupathi, where my husband was, where I was from.
I got back on the ground. More dirt, more rocks, more discomfort. Only three hours to go. We wanted water. We wanted sleep. We wanted to know what was going on.
By ten til six, people were waking up and standing. The line was condensing as hundreds more piled in, hoping to get a ticket to the temple. We were pushed up against the bars and the people around us.
The building's window finally opened. We were to be fingerprinted, photographed and finally given out ticket. Someone who was not in line stepped up to purchase a ticket. Screaming ensued. The anger of the mob was absolutely terrifying. Why isn't there any security? We could do nothing but try to remain standing as the mob shifted, getting more agitated. If they reacted so violently to someone cutting the line, how would they react when two girls who obviously don't belong on a Hindu pilgrimage try to buy tickets. The thing about these tickets is that there are a limited number. People will be turned away and we were pretty close to the front of the line.
Do we get out of the line we waited in for 5 long hours?
The sun was rising. So was the tension of the mob. Babies were crying (Can you imagine waiting the ground for 5 hours in the middle of the night with your baby?). People were shoving. And we were trying to get out.
"But you will not get to go to the temple."
"We don't think we should go because we are not Hindu." (Part of Hindu docterine is that you cannot convert to Hinduism, you are born a Hindu.)
"That is exactly why you should go."
One more hour of waiting and we were ticketed and out of line. We could breathe real air and stretch.
We stopped to "freshen up." For Claire and I, that meant trying to get the dirt off our jeans and the bugs out of our hair. For the others, it meant changing into the most beautiful saris. Thats when we were told we wouldn't be let in because we were wearing jeans (we thought we were on a tour!). After waiting in that hellish line, there was no way some denim was going to stop me from seeing the inside of a temple.
Leaving our shoes on the bus, we headed to the first temple. Another line. This one had an eagerness. People were praying, chanting. The temple was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. Words cannot describe the surge of being a tiny part of something so unified. It was electric.
Trough heat, bleeding feet, exhaustion, we were trucked to over half a dozen temples. Because foreigners are princessed here, we were shuffled into private rooms where we were allowed witness sacred ceremonies. I got blessed by an elephant and hit with a monkey that fell out of a tree. I ate mysterious things.
At the last temple, we were ushered out of the long line to enter the temple and into a dark room filled with smoke and gold and a holy man. He asked Ganesh to bless us and then he anointed us with a bindi (red dot). This signifies to the gods that we are Hindu...well an honorary Hindu at least.
Lessons learned:
1. "Tour" does not mean tour.
2. Sometimes making colossal mistakes when traveling means getting to experience something that Westerners are not typically allowed to participate in. (I later learned that our bus driver had to make some pretty serious bribes for us to get into the temples).
3. In India, nothing's easy and there is always something on fire.
The process:
1. "I found a tour, it sounds pretty cool."
2. It is an overnight bus trip to tour a few Hindu Temples.
3. "There is this thing on the itinerary at 5 am, I think we get to see a band."
4. It will be cool to be around other tourists who are new to India.
Reality:
1. We were the only tourists. That should have been the first clue that we had no idea what we were getting into. All the people were native to Bangalore and were obviously very confused about why were there.
2. The bus ride was not overnight, it ended at 1am. We filed off the bus. Massive sleepy confusion followed. Then we got in a line. Not just any line, imagine the longest line at Kings Island, subtract the coaster and multiply it by five. The metal bars that defined the rows were nearly as tall as I was. The first two rows were already filled with people laying down, sleeping. So we, along with the others from our bus, sat on the ground. Concrete, rocks, bugs, lots of dirt.
This is the conversation that followed:
Me: "Claire, is this the band?"
Claire: "I am so confused."
Me: "But you said there was going to be a band. This is a bunch of old people sleeping on the ground."
We eventually learned that we were in line for tickets for the temple at Tirupathi, the most visited temple in India. We also learned that we were not on a tour of the temples, we were on a very sacred pilgrimage.
The building in front of the line said, "Opens at 6am."
That meant that we were about to wait in line for 5 hours in order to practice a religion we knew nearly nothing about. We sat with our knees to our chests because that's all there was space for. Then our tailbones started to ache so we crossed our legs until our ankles started to bleed from the rocks and concrete. Staying awake was difficult at this point. A combination of jet lag and being sedentary. But staying awake was also very easy because there was no position that didn't mean pain for some body part.
Of the three hundred people there by 3 am, there were a few men who had perched themselves on top of the bars. I figured that might offer some relief from the scrunched up position I'd been in for a 2 hours so I climbed up and sat. Everyone got silent. Everyone was staring. People took out their phones to take pictures, people asked if I was really going to Tirupathi, where my husband was, where I was from.
I got back on the ground. More dirt, more rocks, more discomfort. Only three hours to go. We wanted water. We wanted sleep. We wanted to know what was going on.
By ten til six, people were waking up and standing. The line was condensing as hundreds more piled in, hoping to get a ticket to the temple. We were pushed up against the bars and the people around us.
The building's window finally opened. We were to be fingerprinted, photographed and finally given out ticket. Someone who was not in line stepped up to purchase a ticket. Screaming ensued. The anger of the mob was absolutely terrifying. Why isn't there any security? We could do nothing but try to remain standing as the mob shifted, getting more agitated. If they reacted so violently to someone cutting the line, how would they react when two girls who obviously don't belong on a Hindu pilgrimage try to buy tickets. The thing about these tickets is that there are a limited number. People will be turned away and we were pretty close to the front of the line.
Do we get out of the line we waited in for 5 long hours?
The sun was rising. So was the tension of the mob. Babies were crying (Can you imagine waiting the ground for 5 hours in the middle of the night with your baby?). People were shoving. And we were trying to get out.
"But you will not get to go to the temple."
"We don't think we should go because we are not Hindu." (Part of Hindu docterine is that you cannot convert to Hinduism, you are born a Hindu.)
"That is exactly why you should go."
One more hour of waiting and we were ticketed and out of line. We could breathe real air and stretch.
We stopped to "freshen up." For Claire and I, that meant trying to get the dirt off our jeans and the bugs out of our hair. For the others, it meant changing into the most beautiful saris. Thats when we were told we wouldn't be let in because we were wearing jeans (we thought we were on a tour!). After waiting in that hellish line, there was no way some denim was going to stop me from seeing the inside of a temple.
Leaving our shoes on the bus, we headed to the first temple. Another line. This one had an eagerness. People were praying, chanting. The temple was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. Words cannot describe the surge of being a tiny part of something so unified. It was electric.
Trough heat, bleeding feet, exhaustion, we were trucked to over half a dozen temples. Because foreigners are princessed here, we were shuffled into private rooms where we were allowed witness sacred ceremonies. I got blessed by an elephant and hit with a monkey that fell out of a tree. I ate mysterious things.
At the last temple, we were ushered out of the long line to enter the temple and into a dark room filled with smoke and gold and a holy man. He asked Ganesh to bless us and then he anointed us with a bindi (red dot). This signifies to the gods that we are Hindu...well an honorary Hindu at least.
Lessons learned:
1. "Tour" does not mean tour.
2. Sometimes making colossal mistakes when traveling means getting to experience something that Westerners are not typically allowed to participate in. (I later learned that our bus driver had to make some pretty serious bribes for us to get into the temples).
3. In India, nothing's easy and there is always something on fire.
21.10.12
20.10.12
Napkin Scribbles
...from presentation days.
"I hope I never forget how I feel right now. The overwhelming, relentless pressure. The rhinoceros that lives on my sternum. The tears. The paper cuts. The one that got infected. Green pens. Working through lunch. The doubt: mine and theirs. I hope I always remember how hard it was to become a teacher."
"I hope I never forget how I feel right now. The overwhelming, relentless pressure. The rhinoceros that lives on my sternum. The tears. The paper cuts. The one that got infected. Green pens. Working through lunch. The doubt: mine and theirs. I hope I always remember how hard it was to become a teacher."
23.8.12
Today:
This happened to my shoe while I was teaching.
And I left my lunch here.
But I still had a fantastic day teaching and learning and tripping and being hungry.
But I still had a fantastic day teaching and learning and tripping and being hungry.
22.8.12
Some nights, I stay up cashing in my bad luck. Some nights, I call it a draw.
I miss that song.
And the road.
And summer.
And my grandma and my mom and my dog and Travis.
I think being is Muncie is harder than usual for the following reasons: 1. My time here is immediately followed by my trip to India instead of going home. 2. Most familiar faces have disappeared with degrees. 3. For some reason, I'm hungry all the time.
I miss these places and the way I felt when I was there.
And the road.
And summer.
And my grandma and my mom and my dog and Travis.
I think being is Muncie is harder than usual for the following reasons: 1. My time here is immediately followed by my trip to India instead of going home. 2. Most familiar faces have disappeared with degrees. 3. For some reason, I'm hungry all the time.
I miss these places and the way I felt when I was there.
 |
| Badlands |
 |
| Rushmore |
 |
| Canyon, the grandest in the land. |
 |
| Buffalo |
 |
| Cowboy |
 |
| Yellowstone |
 |
| Arches |
21.8.12
Student Teaching Day 1: I ramble sometimes
(My students now know that my life's real purpose is to see a bear in its natural habitat.)
The last four years of my life have been leading up to this
culminating experience. I’ve got a
great cooperating teacher, a closet full of dresses and a brand new coffee
pot.
Now if only I could plant my feet.
Student teaching is difficult because it exists in an undefined space. My role is ambiguous. I’m in charge, but I’m not in
charge. I’m a teacher, but I’m so
very much the student.
Teaching in a school with technology, paper, copiers that
work and enough textbooks for every student is a new experience for me, as is
teaching honors; and I am excided at the instructional opportunities afforded
by these resources. The infinite possibilities are thrilling!
Countdown:
9 weeks until India.
17 weeks until I graduate.
Holding my breath until then.
 |
| I wore my Bunny pin for goodluck. I'm 99% sure that it was effective because I didn't trip over the overhead cord. Not Even Once. |
20.2.12
1.1.12
2011
- Saw the bean 5 times.
- A 4.0 and a 3.9
- Spent a week wearing the same clothing and eating nothing but pretzels that had been expired for two months.
- I found out what happens when the library closes at 3 am.
- Celebrated 2 years, 6 birthdays, and 3 Christmases with this guy.
- Juggled two jobs, a full class load, my first grad school class, and I created a revolutionary new way to cook potatoes. It's called The Jordan.
- Officially began my life of crime as a feminist vigilante. Code names and all.
- Ate my first tomato since 1996. I also ate a bug.
- Became friends with a wonderful redhead.
- Came to realize how rewarding it is to have (and defeat!) an arch nemesis.
- Handed the most intimidating professor I've ever had an 11-page literature analysis of Kanye West's first album.
- Noticed that an unseemly number of Facebook statuses were devoted to inquires about the safety of eating certain foods after the expiration date. Apparently expiration dates don't matter and anything in a refrigerator or cupboard is edible.
- I got my first migraine during Hugh Jackman's Reel Steel and vomited in front of children.
- Experienced my first (and only) hangover.
- Built a family with these beautiful people.
- I pay rent and consequently find myself wondering how much having a place to live is worth.
- Spent three hours with a stranger from Arizona doing nothing but listing things we knew about Russia.
- Spent two months in a haunted building.
- I was given 27 plastic rosaries and lots of fun-size packets of Skittles during this time.
- Said, "It's hot as balls," more times than I'm proud of.
- Saw Idina Menzel and the Cleveland Orchestra. Magically got way better seats than I paid for.
- Went to a strip club.
- Graduated from RA to CA and AA. (not alcoholics anonymous)
- Did a lot of searching and thinking about what it means to have integrity. And I think I am getting closer everyday.
- Shoveled ice cream into my mouth with my bare hands. And won a freakin prize for it. I am not proud.
- Saw every single episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer ever made.
- Spent an entire weekend convinced that I had died and was a poltergeist in my own apartment.
- Schooled some kids.
- I laughed and laughed all the way home.
- I learned how to love and what to do when you can't.
- I said, "Goodbye" when I should have said, "Nice to see you again."
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