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Published: October 9th 2005
Namaste!
I would just like to thank all of you, my family and friends (and maybe some strangers) who read this log of my thoughts while I am away. It really means the world to know that someone is keeping track of me (hehe) and, more importantly, that you are allowing me to share my experience with you.
I realize that I don't update half as often as I originally intended. I guess a major reason for this is that sometimes, there are just no words. Daily, I am inundated with new sites, scents, tastes, smells, and feelings; I continuously grapple with concepts and ideas I never knew existed. It would be impossible for me to share all of the amazingly interesting and intruiging and shocking and incredible experiences I am having here, as much as I desire to do so. The most I can do is give an occasional glimpse at one little particle in this entirely new and fascinating world in which I find myself living.
That said, a few words regarding my activities as of late:
Our group recently returned from an excursion to Delhi and then to Varanasi, the Hindu holy land. Our guesthouse was right on the shore of the Ganga (Ganges river), and temples abounded. The dynamic of that town is really interesting and bizarre: so holy and yet so full of pilgrims, tourists, and people more that willing to befriend foreigners in hopes of patronage of their silk shops. I made a couple friends, including a 12-year-old boy named Bablu who sells postcards on the bank of the Ganga. I also managed to get myself in invitation to visit a villiage school, a tiny windowless one-room schoolhouse where about 35 children of uneducated, poor workers sit on plastic mats on the dusty floor singing songs, counting to 100, and reciting their ABC's, because Ashish, their
guru-ji thinks it's important that they learn a little English. I met with the individual responsible for the founding of the school; evidently he has sort of adopted this village, teaching the children's mothers handicrafts to earn money, and opening the school for the kids. There is absolutely no funding for this school, aside from what this guy dishes out from his pocket. There's only one classroom and one teacher, even though the children's ages range between 3 and 11. Their school supplies consist of little blackboards and pieces of chalk. Still, these kids just want to learn so badly; while one was singing some Hindi children's song about a dancing monkey, the rest were diligently writing their ABC's or numbers from 1 to 100; a few of them came up to me for approval of their work. "
Bahut achaa," I'd say, "very good," to the kids whose work was flawless; or "
G kuhan hai?" ("Where is the 'G'?) to the little girl who had penned, in her best handwriting,
A B C D E F H I J...; or, to Monika, the adorable quiet little girl with the big brown eyes and who handed me a slate which read
A B C D F G Y Z, "Ummm...
tikka" (okay); and they would cheerily return to their place on the mat, wipe the slate clean with their bare hand, and begin again.
All in all, Varanasi was an incredible, eye-opening experience.
Also, a couple nights ago, after returning to Jaipur, some friends and i went out to a restaraunt and a group of 3 foreigners walking in and as they passed I thought I was looking at myself: one of the women was about 5'2, had a profile strikingly similar to my own hair the color of mine, and (to top it all off) was dressed like me (we had evidently bought same very distinctive shirt from the same Jaipur boutique). I had to go up and talk to her; the 3 of them were from the Netherlands, worked in the textile industry, and were in Jaipur for a week on business. They had noticed the uncanny similarity as soon as they walked in, too. So there you go, I have a Dutch twin and I met her in India. Who knew.
There was an earthquake the other day, as you're probably all aware. Another girl and I had slept over at a friend's house, and the 3 of us were eating breakfast when the our mugs of chai began to shake noticeably. My friend's hostfather emerged from the bedroom seconds later and remarked quike calmly, "Earthquake." I've read about the horrible devestation; however, we in Jaipur only felt a few tremours.
Last night I attended
Gaarba, an outdoor dancing festival, with my friend and her hostfamily. I wore a fancy
salwaar kameez, and my hostmother and hostsister got me all dolled up to go; I was totally decked out in bangles, gold earings, necklace, broach, and, to top it all off, a sparkly green
bindi. Apparently this made an impression, even among all the elaborately dressed Indian women twirling about, because a young Bollywood-looking male reporter approached me and informed me that the event was being recorded in a live telecast, and would I like to give an interview? Hmm, sure, as long as it's in English, my Hindi is not up to TV standards. So I said a little something for the camera, cheezing it up Bollywood-style, though I'm not sure why I found that neccessary. Anyway, it was fun, my little claim to fame during my India trip.
Well, that's it for now. I've probably spent 60 rupees at this cybercafe, and I think I should probably head back to my homestay, as it's getting late and they worry. I miss you all.
Namaste!
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katie
non-member comment
my anne
I think since I compulsively check your site that's why I'm the first one to comment...again. But anyways, I really hope there are pictures. The dancing festival, the school house, and even this cybercafe sounds fascinating. I love and miss you.