High Tide

Sometime last week, Mumbikers (yes, that is really what they call themselves) experienced the worst high-tide of the CENTURY.

^
^viewing marine drive in safe building

< Looking down the coast at the fisherman's colony

Vada Pav

LOOK AT THAT GOODNESS!

Miss, we cannot control ourselves...

We started making the kids' homework into something of a competition and that has really inspired them since they discovered the rewards were beautifully shiny, ice-cold Coca-Cola bottles. We waited a week to announce the winners (the ones that got the highest grades on the test we gave them) and every day we got asked who was the winner. On Monday, a kid told me, "Miss we cannot control ourselves-no suspense Miss no hiding secrets."
Although some of these kids are the reason I will probably grow gray hairs at way too young of an age-some of them have really grown on me. We have three 7th grade classes that we teach and in one of them is this boy named Abu (yes, like the monkey in Aladdin!). He is really chubby and has a squishy face with a little bald head and is very sweet. When we announced that his score was one of the winners he put his hands up for a traditional, Indian victory dance!

I have also found something Indian that I really like to eat, like everyday. For 10 rupees one can enjoy the state food of Maharashtra (the state I am in right now). It is a bun with two different types of chutney on it with a fat patty of potato inside-it is amazing and will change your life. Anna has started going to the gym, but I don't see much of a need to pay so much for weekly memberships (since after this week we only have two left). Amelia is coming tonight, which is exciting and I am hoping that out little bed won't be too cramped with all three of us in it (wishful thinking I know).

If you don't like my attitude...

I was in a coffee shop and saw a middle-aged man wearing a t-shirt that said:

"If you don't like my attitude call 1-800-EAT SHIT"
I was a little dismayed that these are the types of exports that America has to be held responsible for :)

We are nearing the home stretch of our internship and it has been nothing short of incredible. We have about three weeks left and are currently doing a creative writing assignment with the kids and they have improved so much since we started (they now have a better idea of what it means to be creative). The principal of the school walked into one of our writing seminars and I could tell she was impressed with our kids and how they were all being quiet (amazing). One of my favorite kids is this boy named Sohail. He is known around school as "the artist" and has made a lot of the artwork on the 7th grade floor. Today he asked me when I was leaving and I said Aug. 17. He said, "No miss you stay until September." He looked so sad and was making a pretty big case as to why I should stay until September.

I thought that before I left I would write letters to some of my best students, the ones that I know well enough to write letters to. I am working out an all-girls lunch for hopefully tomorrow and really can't wait to talk to them all again. There are some very special girls that I hope can keep up their independent spirits that they have shown me.

Amelia is coming on Thurs. night and we are going to have to fit the three of us in one bed-should be interesting... I am excited to have an excuse to go to all of the touristy places again and take pictures. I really think that she will love it here as she has been spending a lot of her time in a more conservative part of India.

Oh- another funny thing, today one of my kids wrote the simile "his eyes were like two brown circles with black dots in the center." Oh, the creative young minds of India;)

I See You in the Club

As I was walking into the library one of the 7th graders said:

"Miss! You like Akon?" and then started singing, "I see you in the club and I want to get with yoooouuuuuuuuu." As he did this he also started doing this little jig that looked like something that Akon would NEVER attempt.

Shortly after this another boy that follows me everywhere said:

"Miss, I have a friend and I call him Kanu and on his birthday we dance like this." He then started doing a dance that was a cross between High School Musical and epileptic shock. These children are so strange.

We gave them a writing assignment where they have to pretend to be the madman from "The Tell-Tale Heart" writing a diary entry in their own personal diaries. Without any instruction at all a little boy handed me back his paper and it said:

"Ha, ha, ha I am the madman and I will kill everyone except my wife because I am afraid of her. My wife beats me everyday before I sleep."
I almost died laughing-I guess women aren't totally suppressed in this country.

I can't believe I only have three weeks left. Amelia will be here next week and we are going to take a boat across the Arabian Sea (like 9 km.) to see some jungle and caves on the other side. The whole trip takes like an hour and a half to get there which makes me wonder what the hell kind of boat we are taking....paddle? :/

Sorry About That Pt. II

So, I have had a stomach virus/infection for the last couple of days and haven't been able to reach a computer. Work is pretty mellow today and I am recovering-still having trouble eating. Everything here has so much oil and chili powder that I just cannot stomach it anymore. I have been surviving the last 5 days or so off of fruits I buy from a man that sits in the dirt with them outside of our building (legit, huh?).

I got an offer to go to India again in the winter to participate in a course where we would travel all over Norther India and into Nepal but I do not think I am going to go since it is $6,000 dollars and I would rather feel more secure about my Wellesley tuition getting taken care of.

My landlady lectured me yesterday about what a "dirty little American" I am...apparently by her standards not tightening my bed sheet enough every morning is sufficient evidence to throw out names. I think on my last day here, I am going to not make my bed and leave every single window (all 3 of them) in her little apartment open...hehehe.

Anna and I have been reading a lot since we haven't watched a television in SO long. I think I am up to the 12 book mark and still going strong.

Right now we are prepping to do Haiku poems with the kids and I am wondering how that is going to go....:/ They can be extremely challenging at times but I think they find us entertaining because they are always fighting for our attention in and outside of class.

I also found out this morning that Expedia decided to change my flight to Fresno and I now can't make it work because it includes me being able handle a 10 minute layover in Minneapolis!

I am still slowly accumulating gifts for people (I can only handle so much interaction with the terrible street vendors). If anyone wants something specific let me know. AND Amelia (another Wellesley intern who is working in Banares right now) is coming to see Bombay and staying with Anna and I for like 4 days next weekend!

Sorry About That...

I know that I haven't written lately...Anna had a stomach infection and I had a respiratory infection so we weren't at school for a day and the school was shut down for two days because of the monsoon. The monsoon is picking up steam and you can imagine how upset I was when I set out for work, got stuck in a lake of water in the city bus-then pushed out by guys making kissy-faces at me and finally getting to work two hours later to see all of the custodians outside the school and hear:

"Miss, holiday, rain-bad,"

ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?!?!?!?!

The day, however, was salvaged thanks to Barista (a local coffee shop chain) and Alan Blinder. School is taxing but good. We are holding an all-girls lunch tomorrow for all of the 7th grade girls (yes all 8 of them). We really want to provide some sort of support for them because we can see them drifting away in class, too shy to speak up. I really want to make them feel the same way that little girls in America feel: that they have an equal amount of options in respect to their male counterparts. My heart breaks to see these girls so pushed down and looked down upon. I wish that they knew what Wellesley is like, what the rational-fair-equal world is like (if there is one). Anyway, we figure that we will lead with the question we have all been asked, "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

I really miss home, not for the amenities (although those would be nice) but mainly for the attitudes that people have. I get sexually harassed on a daily basis for being a white, foreigner and people treat me with this sarcastic type of respect that only makes me more upset.

Good news, I cut my hair. Basically I told the guy, "Just about shoulder length." He replied, "Do you want any layers? color?" I smirked, "I trust you."

Now I have an extremely layered, shoulder-length hair with purple streaks.

Rock on India, rock on.

I Want Vulture Eye

We gave one of the 7th grade classes today their first writing assignment pertaining to EAP's The Tell-Tale Heart. They are working in groups and have a choice of two prompts, they can either write a newspaper article as if they were the police men that investigated the murder or as if they were the madman making an entry in his personal diary before he committed the murder. We gave them a worksheet to complete before where they would essentially plan out their essay. I hate these kids and I love these kids for the things that they come up with, they are truly bizzare children. One group decided to do the diary and wrote as the three things they want to discuss in the story:

"I want to die,
I want the vulture eye,
I want to madman."

I almost cried laughing at that paper, and still have no idea how to correct it.
Another group writing the newspaper decided to write:

"At 26:00 hours I recieved a call at the SS Bandra police station that I was to report to 1245 Memorial Dr.........."

The kids were also amazed by my signature and the odd way that I continue to hold my pencil. Anna and I also made a discovery a little less pleasant... there were feces found on the stairs leading to the second flood...this is puzzling for multiple reasons:
1. They had to be human
2. Someone would have either has to pop a squat right there or transport the specimen to the location
3. The 10th graders are on the second floor

The monsoon is getting crazier and it is terribly difficult to get a cab now bc they are such old cars that they often don't even try to drive in the rain. I am ready to be done with work for the week and I get to pick up more suits today.

I just got my lunch and it is just my luck.....

...that woman ordered us Manchurian again.

Indian Chinese Food

Today for lunch we were brought "Indian-Chinese Food." Given that Anna is Chinese you would think that she would vaguely see the resemblance, but no...it is something entirely different than what Americans call Chinese food. What they brought today was called "The Manchurian" and is basically a really thick, garlic-like soup with these balls in it. I am not entirely sure what is inside of the balls, but it tastes a bit like cabbage? We were also given rice with these hidden chilies in it. I blame this for the sickness I currently feel. Another fun thing, chilies in India look deceptively like green beans...but I can assure you that they are NOT.

We are preparing to give the kids their first writing assignment, which should be challenging to say the least. They are all good kids but are in desperate need of daily sedatives.

Yesterday, I spent about 15 minutes talking to a group of 7th graders about Michael Jackson. Indian media is severely screwed up because according to their general knowledge MJ was a cross-dressing Muslim who quit all his drugs an will be mummified and buried in a glass coffin, and we can anticipate the eventual sale of his brain on eBay by his family.

I also read that Palin is stepping down as governor of Alaska with 18 months left in her term, which I guess is a positive thing for all the thousand or so people that live up there!

The days are getting more humid and it is getting more difficult to keep dry. It is so humid here that all the pages of my books are crinkled as if they were doused with water. I suppose this is what 90% humidity feels like.

The days go by...

The days are just flying by now as we move forward with the class we laid out for the seventh grade and continue the literacy program with the 5th and 6th graders here. The children (or should I say boys) here are twice as crazy as American ones. I think this is because their parents raise them as princes, and are taught to never say no to the little deamons- so one can only imagine the calliber of 12 year olds I am dealing with here...truly terrifying.

The rains here are sure picking up and it was very sad to spend 4th of July out of my country (I did attempt to compensate by eating dinner at good 'ol McDonald's). Things are very different here but I almost feel that I am more aware of the situations than some of the higher class Indian people. The divide between rich and poor is monumental. On Sunday, I went to brunch with my roommates at this beautiful British restaurant (leftover from the colonial period). As we were walking to the restaurant we were followed by a begging child with nothing more than boxer shorts on. Although it is a common sight in India, sitting in a palace of a restaurant and seeing that boy just outside haggling people as they try to make their way inside wearing the latest Dior was enough to make me sick to my stomach. I will never go back there again and I am thankful that I am not like the high-class Indians that live more ignorantly than high-class Americans.

I am extremely happy that I have been able to get some reading in. Last summer, when I was doing research, classes, and working it was difficult to manage but it is easy to read in India because there is no T.V./computer/etc in my apartment. I am proud to say that I will finish my 8th book tonight (hopefully) since classes let out.

I really want chai now...

My second visit to an Indian hospital...that is right...SECOND

I went to the hospital last week for an extremely painful skin infection that caused all of the sweat glands in my armpit to be clogged with bateria...basically, sweating was like having acid rubbed all over my armpits. The pain from that has since gone although my lymph nodes in my armpit are still inflamed.

TODAY, however, I stubbed my toe and didn't pay much mind to it.... Tweny minutes later I looked down and saw that my toenail was sticking straight up! That is right, VERTCAL. I tried to find a First Aid Kit and only came arcoss some gauze and flourescent masking tape from the classroom next door. As I was tying (very unsuccessfully) to wrap my toe, a load of the Indian men that are servants in the school came up with various bottles of chemicals, telling me, "Aap ka foot ke lie accha hai, Miss!" (This is good for your foot). It was hard to ward them off, and the started pouring and one of the little bastards had rubbing alcohol in his bottle. I wanted to scream, but I am told that is not good for the development of children.

Now, Anna and I are going to the hospital...and I am praying that they don't try to clip my nail....

Quotes from India...(so far)

First day in India (Delhi):

"Miss! Miss!"

*I turn around to see an Indian man holding two GIANT animal whips, my eyes widen

"Come on Miss, kinky nights! You like this? Come, good price!"

*Group runs briskly away (this incident occured directly after our talk on conservatism in Delhi).

Secon day in India (Delhi, outside ohjeeziforgotthename-MasJiid):

"Miss! Miss!"

*Turn around to see ANOTHER dedicated whip salesman

"Pleasure Miss! Pleasure!"

*move inside mosque quickly

Aga Khan School:

"Class what does it mean to lose you patience?" I asked

"It means that you are seeing a very bad doctor Miss," -Indian 7th grader

*Holding up picture of Edgar Allen Poe

"What do you think this man was like?" I asked

"Miss, he looks very ill." -another Indian 7th grader

"Good morning Miss!" -Indian 6th grader

"Good morning Salim," I relied

*mutual first bump of coolness

*After reading the Tell-Tale Heart

"Now, what do you think the moral of this story is?" I asked

"That all crazy people should be locked up!" -Indian 7th grader

*6th grade boy walks over and sits down next to me in library, he puts the side of his face into his palms and tilts his head...

"Miss, I just love you...you are always so shiny."

*9th grader enters the library with a little suavity in his step, he leans over the table I am sitting at and suddenly perks his head up...

"What is your good name Miss?"

"Maria..."

"From where have you came?"

"America..."

"Do you have a husband?"

"How much do you weigh?"

"What?"

"Aren't you like 14 and a little young to be harassing women?"

"Hahaha, I am 15 and I like smart women."

"Get to class before I beat you."

"I will stay for that..."

*flashes a smug grin

"Kanthi! This student of yours is harassing me..."

*needless to say, I haven't seen him since!

I can show you the world....

Shining, shimmering......SMELLY! This country has so much garbage that you can not only see it on the streets constantly, but smell it also. Each block has its own scent. The block we live on is more of a classic garbage smell (smell your own to get the drift), where we work is more of a rotten eggish aroma. Finally, the slums just smell like human excriment at all hours, probably because it in right there on the street (just for you!).

Work is difficult with all of these children, they are insane. We have decided to split them up further and I have some really sweet 7th grade boys in my group. Today, one boy handed me a picture of Edgar Allen Poe that he had found in one of the several Mumbai newspapers (we are reading The Tell-Tale Heart). Today, also, a disgusting little snot threw a beet at Anna's head. It is interesting how large of a spectrum of behaivor children have.

I also feel that I have become a bit obsessed with Indian suits (salwar, kurta, aur dupattas). I counted them last night, and the official count is up to twelve. TWELVE! I hadn't even noticed since I mainly buy them just to have new clothes free from the stench of India's air and rain. When I come back to the states I think that I will look so out of place..."Maria and the technicolor outerwear!"

Before coming to India, I never knew how tough I was. I didn't think that I would have to handle so much and I am actually amazed at my own ability to cope. I can pour cold puckets of water over my head every morning at 6, deal with no airconditioning is a climate that all but requires it, and I have had a nasty skin infection that is not only painful but warrented a visit to the Muslim hospital (do NOT recommend). Even so, all these minor accomplishments I seem to rack up I cannot really feel too proud of since I am living the life of a middle-class Indian. I cannot even comprehend the life people live in the lower and lowest classes here. Watching them as we travel through the slums is like seeing devolution, people reverting to a more animalistic form of life. Even though this may sound bad, seeing them gives me some sort of comfort. These people are surviving through sheer will and making jobs/shelters/lives for themselves apart from any type of guiding force. Seeing homes made out of spare metal and tarps, and even a slum near my apartment that has created it's own plumbing system makes me think that if we ever do endure a nuclear holocaust that roaches will not be the only ones to survive.

I am going today to pick up my twelth suit in Breech Candy...