The general what’s-it-ness of it all…Part I

So as usual, I am horrifically late with a posting. I’ve been very busy since the last posting—working, living, trying to learn how to play. The most important updates, if you have no time to read further, are as follows:

1. I’ve started walking in the mornings.

Yes, its true. Me. Walking. Physical activity. Of my own volition. No, this is not a sign of the end of the world….just me trying to learn to be an all-around person, not just a graduate student. I met another anthropologist/graduate student while here and realized that my lifestyle is totally unsustainable. Those of you who are around when I’m working can attest to my zone behavior. Regular activities like eating, sleeping, communicating, and showering fall away when I’m working. This is not a good thing. I see that now. Really. So I’m trying to get into good habits like walking—yes, I actually enjoy it—eating good food, taking the occasional break, etc. So far its quite uncomfortable and unnatural feeling, but I am sure that with practice I will manage to act like a person and not a robot all the time. We’ll see…I’ll keep posting with my progress. But I figured if I could sustain in while here and get into the habit that it would be much easier to keep it up when I return. Plus, I’m in crazy great shape now (my rear is a good 2 inches higher than it was when I left the states) and would like to capitalize on this opportunity. Would save me the trouble of having to really work hard when I get back. Also, if I’m in such kickin’ shape at 8,000 feet, I’m superwoman at sea level. I could probably jump over a bus at this point, with these calves. Maybe I’ll try that next time I head down to Kolkata.

I would like to say, however, that this walking is not like walking on a track. Remember, I’m on the top of what we in the US would call a mountain. So my walk consists of about a half mile of flat, then a quarter mile up a road that is about a 45 degree angle (no kidding, I’ll take a photo of it one of these days to prove it), then down and around the top of the hill for a few miles, then up another even longer 45 degree angle hill that almost killed me one night after going out with friends. This second hill should not be undertaken by the faint of heart, asthmatics, or anyone with good sense. It has felled lesser men, but I tackle it during this walk with grace and dignity. It is a fantastic way to end, especially when I decide half way up that life is no longer worth living. I’ve threatened my walking partners (my neighbor and my research assistant) that I would set up house right there and go no further…but they know how to persuade me to finish. It mainly involves reminding me of this new “whole-life” approach I’ve started. The jerks. This hill also includes dodging jeeps creeping down, brakes screaming. I’ve seen a number of cars lose their breaks on this road and I always expect to see one whizzing at me just as I’m too weak to jump out of the way. Fantastic.

2. I’m taking a vacation.

Once again, part of this whole life approach. So I’m leaving for Thailand on the 14^th for 6 nights of mangos and sticky rice, showing my ankles (maybe a knee if I’m feeling really frisky), and shopping. While there are many things available here in India, sometimes a person just needs a plastic broom rather than one made of dried grass. The grass molds during the monsoon and I don’t need more mold than I already have. I was sick last week (I’ll explain later) and was away for 6 days instead of 3 and I came home to mold growing on my clothing in the closet. There was also a colony on my stove and the refrigerator. I would have preferred to just abandon everything and move…but my neighbors convinced me that a little bleach and some sun would save me. Lucky for them, the sun has been out and my house no longer smells like a nasty wet basement full of old gym socks. Ick.

3. Mango season is coming.

That really isn’t news unless you worship the mango like I do. When I was in Peace Corps (some of you have heard this story already, so my apologies), there were mango trees in the area and we used to pay kids a few rupees to shimmy up and get them for us. There is nothing like a sun-warmed, ripe mango. I hear love is better than mangos, but I’ve not experienced such a love. Except for mangos. There is, however, a problem. Lichi season is also almost upon us and I can never really decide which is better. I worship the mango, but lichis are like perfumed bits of heaven. Such a tough decision. Like deciding which of your children you like better, or which Dave Matthews song is your favorite. Almost impossible. They are wonderful in their own special ways, but cannot be compared. So my stomach is becoming very happy in spite of my illness.

On to the general information. This past month has been an exceptionally busy one. I’ve been doing interviews, going to programs, and doing such important research duties. But my research assistant’s grandmother has been very ill and so there was a week in there where I was back and forth to the hospital all day, each day. Hospitals here are quite different than in the US: families have to provide bed linens, drinking water, medicines, and, if they can afford it, food. So that means cooking two meals a day, boiling water, and then hiking it all down 45 minutes to the hospital to feed grandmother and those family members staying with her. They took her to the government hospital which is not really somewhere anyone would want to be. Let along an 80 year old woman who had never been in one before. She managed to have two children and multiple illnesses through her life without hospitals and was pretty pissed that the family took her. She was a feisty lady and terrorized the nurses and doctors alike. It was both funny and tragic to see her so upset with everyone. At one point, someone told her to trust in god and she said that you have to because you can’t trust anyone people (referring to her daughters who put her there). The daughters were so upset, but finally she started feeling better. Then, suddenly, she went almost completely catatonic. The family decided to bring her home, and it turned out that the hospital had given her an overdose of her medication. She was given 7 shots in one day, plus oral meds. After a few days being away there, she started to improve. Her mind was never really back after that, but at least she was home with her family. Things seemed to be getting better, and she talked only yesterday about wanting to live. But she died this morning at 8:45. She told her daughters that she was so tired. She’d fought hard—she had kidney cists, almost total renal failure, plus most of the rest of her organs were shutting down—and had been in a lot of pain. So this morning my neighbor and I went over to help the family with the arrangements.

In terms of my work and life: This is a photo of my bedroom here. I’ve finally gotten things organized (minus the trash) and very much like the set up.

Its warm enough that I don’t need my sleeping bag anymore, and I finally got a foam mattress. Its like sleeping on a firm but giving cloud. So my favorite place in India has become my bed. As you can see, I have some very nice windows that look out over the valley facing east. My view:

My desk (with the red chair) is to the far left. I actually keep it cleanish and I got some pretty good speakers in town so I can listen to music. The speakers on my laptop quit working about 2 months ago, and I couldn’t live without music. My neighbor is heading to the US this week and will buy me an Ipod (yes, I’m also entering the 21^st century in terms of music technology as well), so it won’t be as necessary. The yellow, white, and gold tapestry is covering a door that heads off to my uncle/landlord’s puja room. It’s a room where he retires to twice a day (7 am and around 7 or 8 pm) to meditate and chant his mantras. He is relatively quiet, unlike the woman at the house I lived in southern Nepal. Some of you may remember the stories of her and that stupid bell at 5 am. If not, take me out for coffee when I get back and I’ll tell you.

This is a photo of my second room. I was standing in the doorway between these two rooms to take the first photo. As you can see, my kitchen is up against the windows so I can look out over the hills when I’m cooking. I now have a bright maroon refrigerator where that little stool is in the near right corner. The living room is to the left. I sit there in the chair most mornings to have breakfast and drink my tea. I try to leave the door open for some fresh air, but the 5 dogs that live in the house regularly run in and jump all over me. Silly things, but I do love them.

Since I now get up so early to walk (we’re out by 6:30 most mornings, 6 when we're really inspired), I’ve been up to see the sun rise over the mountains. This is the view from my door at about 5:30:

I have to get up that early since we only get direct sunlight until about 9 am, when it is blocked by the balcony of the floor above mine. So when I’m organized, I get up around 5:30 and do laundry. Sometimes I do it the night before and leave it out hanging all night…but I think the neighbors think I’m a little nutty. Of course, they probably think I’m nutty anyway, so who cares.

This next photo has nothing to do with any thing except general hilarity:

It doesn’t look as ridiculous in the daylight, but in the evenings, the “bullet proof dias” lights up in flashing hot pink. Yes, this does announce “BULLET PROOF DIAS” in hot pink neon. Fabulous. This is where all manner of politicians sit to view public performances at this garden. They do nightly cultural dances here and, I think, hold other events here as well. I was visiting it with a friend of mine and he said that it made him think two things. Either a) they are actively trying to get people assassinated by taunting people with it as a dare, or b) whoever built it just didn’t make it actually bulletproof and so wanted to tell people it was so they wouldn’t test it. Interesting theory. He later laughed and detailed the ways in which such assassinations could be easily carried out by waiting for people to leave (since there isn’t a bathroom in the place) or shooting through the back of the building. Politicians here aren’t too popular, so I don’t plan on sitting anywhere near that building just to be safe.