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

During the last week of March, I was quite busy running around. Sunday and Monday I attended a conference in a smaller town called Kalimpong, about a two and a half hour drive from Darjeeling. You have to drive over and down some hills (that, again, we would call mountains in most of the US), along the Teesta River, and then back up to the town. It’s a nice drive. This is a photo of the tea estate you drive through on the way down. The road was actually pretty crowded, we were just the second in a long caravan on their way to either Kalimpong or Sikkim, the next state north. They use the same road until you reach the river, which is a bit of a monster. Not this time of year, since it’s the dry season, but imagine it about 10 times larger once monsoon starts:

As we were driving to the conference, a friend of mine told me that it is very auspicious to make a wish, say a prayer, etc., while crossing this river. You can also chuck a 1 rupee coin into the river to make it even more powerful. Rivers are very holy things since they come from the mountains which are themselves the abode of the gods. So I always think of something when driving across, and only once did I toss a coin in. That came later in the week and was accompanied by some very amused Bengali tourists asking me what the deuce did I think I was doing. Fantastic. I’m sure that will make it into the family holiday letter (not my family’s, but theirs). The road is actually in quite good condition compared to that of the city. It was a great drive, lots of sun, good conversation, and no rain!

I took the same road to Gangtok, the capital of the next state north (Sikkim), a few days later to visit a friend and do some research. The state is restricted for foreigners, and so I had to go get a permit the week prior. This involves trekking down about 30 minutes down the mountain and into the district magistrates office, which is not easy to find even when you know where you’re going. I don’t know how tourists do it. You then stand at a window, the man looks up, sees the shiny whiteness of your face, then silently hands you a form. You exit the line, fill it out, get back in line, and he stamps it. Then you trek all the way back up to near the top of the hill to the foreigner’s registration office. There, a man is supposed to stamp your form and then fill your name in a little ledger. However, since I am a resident of India, the man decided that I was not allowed to go to Sikkim. I said, “Sir, that’s crazy. I can’t just stay in Darjeeling or the state of West Bengal for the whole year. I also work in Delhi.” To which he said, “but, you can’t go anywhere.” Uh…this could be a problem. I tried logic, I tried smiling and chatting. But nothing. Finally, I called another man over and he told the other guy he was crazy. Then tried logic. Then chatting. Then he just stamped my pass for me and said “go, its fine.” Great, grand, wonderful. You would think this ends the saga of the pass. But, oh, no. No freaking way. This is India after all! So you have to walk all the way back down to the office at the other end of the world, get in the same line, and then finally your permit is issued. I also wore the wrong shoes that day and ended up with blisters between my toes and on the bottoms and sides of my feet. I got home that night and decided that Sikkim better be the greatest place on earth or I’d ask for my money back. Wait, I didn’t pay anything for the permit. Maybe I’d ask the permit guy to rub my feet. Whatever, this place better be freaking great.

The trip to Sikkim didn’t start well. I hadn’t been feeling great, and should have probably postponed my trip. But the friend I was meeting was heading into a month long silent retreat the next week and that would kind of defeat the whole purpose of me going. So I sucked it up and got into the share taxi. Share taxis are those you take when you live here long enough to stop wanting to spend tourist prices for everything. I actually prefer them for most purposes. For example, a tourist taxi (which means you get the whole jeep to yourself) from Siliguri (town in the plains) to Darjeeling is about eight or nine hundred rupees. A share taxi is, during high season, 100 rupees max. During the rest of the year, you can make it there for 40 rupees. So my trip from Darjeeling to Sikkim cost me a total, on the share taxi, of 125 rupees. However, it means sharing a jeep with at least 10 other people. As I said, I actually like them because they are a great chance to meet people. It does, however, mean zero personal space. On the trip back I had an adorable young man who fell asleep and leaned on me the whole time. Good thing for him he was cute and totally non-threatening. Just wait until you get some geezer who coughs and spits sleeping on you, then you hate yourself for not getting your own taxi.

Anyway, so I’m crammed in a taxi with all these people—although I was in the ladies seat by the window next to the driver, so you only have three people in that row—and we start out. The driver thought it was totally hilarious that I could speak Nepali, so he kept talking when all I wanted to do was sleep. We hit traffic coming out of town, traffic at the next town, and then once we cleared the traffic we stopped. Directly across the hill from my house—well, down the thousands of feet ravine and back up from my house. The driver cuts the engine, opens the door, and disappears. Seriously, there is NOTHING around on this road. Nothing. Not even a tea shop. When the deuce did he go? I’m looking at my house in the distance thinking, “when will this bloody driver get a flaming move on?” The Bengali tourists got out and started taking pictures. Of my house. Well, Darjeeling to be more precise, but I’m sure my house was in some of them. Very tiny of course, but there nonetheless. I’m watching them, thinking how much they must be enjoying the coolness of Darjeeling compared to the gawd-help us awfulness of Kolkata. Still sitting. I check my phone. No calls, no messages. Clearly we’ve entered a time warp in which no one loves me enough to call. Stupid friends. I bet they are at home, drinking tea and laughing about not calling me. Still…sitting. Am just about to throw myself down the ravine, when the driver reappears. And does nothing. Sitting, tra-la-la, sitting. I grab the door handle, prepared to jump, when he starts the jeep and starts off as if nothing happened. Luckily, I have cultivated the kind of calm that one can only achieve while living in India. There is so much chaos, and so much ridiculousness that calm acceptance is the only option to throwing oneself down a ravine. Or in front of a bus, if no ravine is to be found.

Anyway, we move along fine for a couple of hours (its supposed to be a 4 hour trip) and then…traffic again. By the checkpoint at the border between West Bengal and Sikkim. I have to get out to get my pass stamped and I watch the driver buzz off up the hill. I get my pass stamped, chat for a second with the border guard—its amazing how easy it is to get things done when you surprise people with your language skills. The second I speak Nepali, they go into some sort of trance and things are shockingly simple to get done. They completely don’t expect it and so are hypnotized. I’m like a snake charmer, only with no snakes and very little charm. I run back up the hill, only to find that my driver went off expecting this whole border crossing to take a while. He didn’t realize that I’d been here long enough to know that you don’t wait politely until someone finishes their conversation or work if you need something. You just shove your passport under their nose, smile, and when they do nothing, say “I think I need a stamp in my passport. Please do it now.” I love it. But my speed and awesome efficiency meant that the driver had gone. Probably for tea and a smoke, or maybe a nap. So we waited. Again. Unfortunately, there was no ravine to throw myself into this time. Still…waiting. The boy who accompanies the driver ran off to find him. I was, at this point, considering hot wiring the jeep and taking off. I think the Bengali tourists would have supported me in this effort, but the driver appeared and we were off again. For about 10 minutes…then traffic:

Please…someone…kill…me. So just as we got out of the traffic, something happened. Before I tell you what happened, let me just say that I am a patient woman. I have waited for years for things to come to fruition. I can, on special days, sit and wait for water to boil. But today nearly tested my limits, because just as we got out of the traffic…WE GOT INTO AN ACCIDENT. Honestly, can you believe it? I ask you…is it even possible? The worst part of it was that the accident was barely a fender bender. True, we were rear-ended by a huge truck. And yes, there was a bit of damage. But does that require 30 minutes of negotiations about compensation? There really isn’t insurance here, so the driver had to wait to get the most out of the guy as possible. For the dents and scratches. That I could have fixed in 20 minutes with a hammer and some clear nail polish. But 30 minutes of yelling, clutching of the breast, fists shaking at the sky. I gave up and took a nap, which is not an easy feat when you are at a 30 degree angle up the side of a mountain with men screaming at each other outside your door. But I channeled the calm that comes from years of meditation and experimentation with mind altering substances and slept. Quite well actually. Eventually, the men came to an agreement and we were off. Finally! But wait…we had to stop at the nearest ATM for the truck driver to withdraw money to pay our driver. So stop again. For another half an hour. I have at least 7 more grey hairs from this trip that I know for a fact were not there before I left my house.

I finally made it to Gangtok (the capital), a little shabbier and older than when I left, but otherwise unscathed. Gangtok is actually a very charming city:

Its not as crowded as Darjeeling and all traffic has to clear out of a certain area by 4:45. Fantastic. I’m still not entirely sure it was worth the walk up and down Darjeeling for the permit, blisters, and the 7 gray hairs…but it was a great time.

Unfortunately, what was just an annoying bout of giardia—used to be my favorite of the intestinal diseases/parasites because of its lack of terrible symptoms—became the worst case of my life. I only got to enjoy Gangtok for one day, because by the next I was sick. The kind of sick where you camp out on the bathroom floor for 12 hours sick and then lay in bed for 3 days recovering. And it only took 4 doses of the medicine before I could keep any down. Giardia is so not my favorite parasite anymore. I had to stay in Gangtok for 3 extra days because I was too sick to travel or even sit up for more than a few minutes at a time. Its now been a week and I’m still not 100%. Stupid parasites. Trying to ruin my good times.

Although totally unrelated to my life, I wanted to share the following with you all. This is a box of breakfast cereal that I purchased for those mornings when I didn’t want banana oatmeal or toast. Make sure you read slowly and carefully.

So after all that, you’re expecting quite a lot! Cure cancer and the lot. Pretty impressive. I anticipated lights and choirs of angels singing when I opened the box. This is what I got:

Stale cornflakes with a few almonds thrown in. I haven’t been able to toss them out, just because I expect them to cure themselves of their staleness, sprout pineapples, and wow me again. I’ll keep you posted as to the developing awesomeness of my muesli.

Well, I think that’s enough of an update for now. I’ve been cooped up in my house for days and so have had time to work on this edition. I’m heading to Thailand in a week and a half, so I’m sure I’ll have fun things to say and photos to post after I return.

Hope all is well with everyone and keep those emails and letters coming. I so enjoy both.

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

I finally left the city for my first overnight trip since arriving to go to a tea estate to do some interviews. I don’t know if any of you are tea snobs, I mean, *cough*, aficionados, but I was at Margaret’s Hope. Maybe the name means something to you, maybe it doesn’t. Anyway, had a fabulous time—toured the factory, met the very nice and very helpful estate manager, and stayed with my friend’s family. These are photos of part of the estate:

It is very steep and the workers pluck everything by hand:

You can imagine, working all day long walking up and down these hills plucking tea. So think of them when you drink Darjeeling tea—they’ve worked hard for it, so you’d better enjoy it!

We stayed with a friend’s family, who had a new little puppy. It had a sibling, but it died a few weeks before. The puppy is very small and adorable in a sort of living-cotton-ball way. But he did love to be held and got a little scared during the amazingly bad hail storm we had that night. This is a photo of another friend holding said puppy:

We didn’t just have fun with puppies and hail…I actually got some work done as well. This is a photo of me interviewing an old man at the estate:

We walked to his house and asked his son where he was, since I was looking for someone who was working before the British left India. So the son called down to a small plot of land where this 95-year-old man was working among the plants. He walked over, brushed the dirt off his hands, and gave me what has become one of my favorite interviews. What a character! He is partially deaf, and so my research assistant had to yell to him since he couldn’t understand my ‘strange’ accent! But he managed to charm us all and I was very sorry that the interview had to end. I didn’t even realize we were done talking, when suddenly he said, “Ok, I’m going to work now.” Very matter-of-factly. Just got up, smiled, and walked away. What a great guy.

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.

The saga continues

Well, after 5 days without electricity but with intense cold in Darjeeling, Mom and I descended down the mountain to prepare for her departure. We stayed at a very interesting, very black-mold infested, hotel in Siliguri. But since there was 1) electricity, 2) warm weather, and 3) foam mattress beds...we were very happy.

I ended up flying out about 15 minutes before mom did. Our original plan was for me to drop her off, watch her fly away, then head over to the train station and take the overnight train down to Calcutta. However, three things happened. First, there was a major bombing of a train in Western India. Very far away, but I know my father and know that he would have flown all the way from the US just to kick my butt. Second, I had been given many lectures by my Indian friends about the dangers of train travel alone (although I kind of enjoy it). Third, the flight to Calcutta was so delayed at the airport that I would be leaving after mom anyway. Didn't totally work out like that, but at least it was close.

It was very hard to say good bye to mom. She has been an amazing travelling companion during these past four weeks. More amazing than all the OTHER travel buddies I've had. So ladies and gentlemen, if you ever need to go on a trip somewhere...take her! Although be prepared for her to ask you to tie her shoes once in a while as a sign of respect.

So I'm now down in Calcutta. Its warm--low 80's as compared to the 20's and 30's of Darjeeling--and I've been spending most of my time sleeping (had a fever the last two days) and working on a paper for my committee. I am heading to breakfast to meet a friend of a friend and then head to the West Bengal State Archives for a few hours. Then back to the hotel, nap and shower, then out to a movie with some other friends. Luckily, I love Bollywood films (ok, not all of them...but some are brilliant). We're going to see Guru tonight.

Don't have much else to report here. I'm heading back up to the Darjeeling area on Sunday. I have a few things to pick up before I go all the way up the mountain, but then I should be there for the next few months. I so prefer Darjeeling to anywhere else (it is home afterall!), and I don't really like to leave unless overwhelmingly compelled to do so.

That's it. I'm off to Park Street for breakfast. Stay well and keep the emails coming. I can often read them, but not respond!

Chelsea

SNOW!!!

Well, we woke up yesterday morning to three inches of snow! It is bloody awful cold, but it was beautiful. It snowed about 4 years ago so you can imagine the excitement. Well, the children were excited. Those of us who had laundry hanging out and woke up to find it frozen were not quite so happy about it. Luckily I have a gas heater and cranked that thing up. It was about 52 degrees in my room after a while, but we decided not to leave the house. Happy Valentine's Day to us!

Since the snow was so heavy, we didn't have electricity for over a day. I am working off a generator right now, so I'll make this message brief. Once it comes back on more regularly, I will post photos of the snow.

They also had some over in Kathmandu for the first time in 63 years: http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20070214/india_nm/india287711;_ylt=Apz_npIeVzySemg9gVri2V7MWM0F

Well, we are off. Its only about 34 degrees where I'm emailing and my fingers can't type any more. I'm taking mom down to the airport on Monday, and then I'll be down in Kolkata for a few days. My police approval finally came through, so I'm officially allowed to do research once I have the papers in hand! YAY!

Quick update

Well, I'm in the process of moving into my new flat. For the next few days, I'm staying in one room just next door because my landlord's son is visiting from Nepal. Until he leaves (around the 17th), I'll be in the one room. Once I do shift over and decorate, I'll be posting a few photos so you all can see where I live. In the meantime, these should do:

View south from my balcony

Me on the balcony to the north

View of mountains from Darjeeling

View from the street between my house and town

Jaipur and Agra

Just a few photos from our weekend in Jaipur and Agra. Enjoy!

Mom looking at the Taj Mahal

Taj Mahal

Mom and photographer, Taj Mahal

Mom and me, Taj Mahal

Taj Mahal (Obviously)

Fatehpur Sikri

Fatehpur Sikri

City Palace, Jaipur

Mom, learning to weave a rug

Amber Fort, Jaipur

Amber Fort, Jaipur

Jaipur, India

Mom, Jaipur, India

Sister's wedding

I'm heading for India in three days, but I just wanted to share a photo of my sister at her wedding. This is more for me than the rest of you, since now whenever I come to the page I'll see her!

I'll be posting again when I get to India and am a bit more settled.

Another quick and meaningless update

Well, I'm scheduled to leave for India on 23 January 2007. My mother and I are flying out of Chicago on a direct flight to New Delhi. She's staying for 4 weeks, and we're doing a quick tour of Delhi, Agra, and Jaipur before we head up to Darjeeling to set up my new home. I'll be posting much more frequently once I get there, so start checking back in mid-February for (semi) regular updates.

Family visiting

This is a photo of my sister, her fiance, me, and my mother. They all came to visit when I moved back. Just thought the world needed to see our insanity. 

Yet another late update

Well, I'm back. Not really back posting, but I feel like I should say something.

I GOT MY RESEARCH APPROVAL

Its true...after a year and a half of back and forth, not knowing if I'd ever get to do my research, it happened. So I'm back at school to finish up my qualifying papers, write my proposal to defend, and learn everything I can between now and December. I'm planning on heading to Darjeeling around the 20th of January. The good news is that my mother is coming with me for the first 4 weeks or so. I never knew, but one of her childhood dreams was to visit the Taj Mahal. So guess where we're going first....

Not much more to report as yet. I will be posting much more regularly once I've defended my dissertation proposal and actually have time.

Ashley and Rob, Part II

Ashley and Rob have set a date! Its Saturday, October 7th of next year. Nothing else to report...I'm still working on my Ph.D. qualifying papers, teaching, taking classes and generally working on being fabulous. I'll update again when I have achieved full fab-ness.

Update--November

Well, this has been quite an eventful month so far! I've received funding from the American Institute of Indian Studies to do my dissertation research in Darjeeling starting next October. But I'm waiting to go until my sister and Rob get married! This picture was taken (by me) just after Rob proposed this past weekend in Central Park. He called me a few weeks ago and asked me to help. So as we were wandering around New York on Saturday--which had the most perfect weather in a November that I can remember--Rob called my phone. I pretended it was a friend of mine that I hadn't seen in a few years, and had to run to meet her for coffee. I just walked out of sight, camera hidden in my purse, and waited until I saw Rob get down on one knee. Then--pictures! The one above is when Ashley realized that I was in on the whole thing.

I don't think I could be happier or prouder of those two!

Delay

I've had to put the blog on hold for right now--classes are back in session and I'm teaching as well. I'll try to post periodically...but this site is really for when I'm out of the country!

Darjeeling--Day II

Darjeeling—Day Two

The woman at the front desk showed me on the map where I should be going and I set off to buy a mobile phone. I started walking toward Chowrasta, which is a main square in the town; although technically it is shaped more like an X than a square. Anyway, I started walking down toward where I thought I should go. After about 20 minutes, I was convinced that I was totally lost and had ended up somewhere in China. I had descended about a thousand feet, zigzagging down the hill…once I stopped to look up, I saw my hotel. I was exactly even with my hotel, just much, much lower. I was exhausted, and a bit sweaty, and ready to call a taxi to drive me back up the hill so I could die in my hotel room. However, I decided to give my Nepali language skills a bit of a go, and went inside a store to ask where I could buy mobile phones. Luckily, the man was very nice—although he answered my Nepali question with an English answer, something I’ve had to get used to. He told me that I was, in fact, going the correct direction. I just needed to keep going down the bloody hill (two more zags, to be precise). After sweating my way down another 600 or so feet, I saw a mobile phone store.

I walked in, trying not to gasp and gag for each breath. Anyone who tells you that 7 or 8 thousand feet isn’t that high is a lying bastard and probably wants you dead. Thankfully, the man in the store was more than kind while I gasped and choked out the words, “Me…need…phone.” He smiled and asked me what kind of phone and service I needed. Although my brain was oxygen-deprived, I did manage to purchase a quality, no frills Nokia phone. He showed me one that, had I been just a bit more delirious, I would have purchased—beautiful, swanky, gadget optimized phone. I won’t go into too many details, but the cost was Rs 8500/-, which translates to about USD $200. I said, “Aie! Kasto mahango!” Which is Nepali for, “Holy crap! That’s expensive!” (well, loosely translated). He laughed and asked me if I spoke Nepali. We had a very nice conversation about my research and what I wanted to do in Darjeeling. After, he offered to walk me to the Darjeeling Language Institute, the next stop on my list. I agreed, before realizing two things: (1) Walking me there consisted of him closing the shop, and (2) it was two buildings down, just across the street. I felt like a prize idiot…but it was kind of him anyway.

The Darjeeling Language Institute (from this point forward known as the DLI because I’m too lazy to continue typing the full name) is on the first floor of a hotel. Nice little place. So the phone guy led me inside and, as luck would have it, there was a Nepali class going on at the time. We walked to the classroom and interrupted the class. There was only one student, so I didn’t feel too terrible about it. The teacher asked me to come up and sit down, and the phone guy disappeared. She asked me a few questions—if I knew any Nepali, etc.—and then asked me to talk to the girl in the class so she could assess my “skills”. We did the usual—“What is your name? Where are you from?” As it turns out, she and her husband are from Tennessee (well, she’s originally from Alabama and he’s originally from Texas) and will be living here for another three or four years. It went quickly, and she asked me to come back on Monday to talk about classes and to pay for them. I got the girl’s address, and she said she would stop by the hotel on the way home. She and her husband live fairly close to me, only about 10 minutes away.

I headed out after that to work my way back up the hill. I decided to take the “short cut” straight up the hill—consisting of stairs and two roads that are at about 45 degree angles. I made it, just barely. I was coughing, sweating, and gasping by the time I got to the top. I stumbled into the hotel, got my key, and collapsed in my room. I was convinced that I had pulmonary edema (I was coughing up things and feeling nauseated) and would die right there. I laid on that bed for over an hour and it didn’t improve. So I stayed for another hour. By that point I was sufficiently recovered enough to walk up another hill (not quite so uphill) to the internet place. That too almost killed me, but I survived to walk back down the hill.

As I arrived at the hotel, I saw the woman from class. She was leaving me a note at the desk, so I invited her up for a minute—standing at that point was beyond what was possible. Karen and I sat for a while and chatted. She is a very nice woman, and I am so glad we met! I walked her home so I would know where she lived (another hill). We sat and had tea at her house. Jonathan, her husband, had a sinus infection and so was laying down. She and I ended up talking until after dark. I’d arrived at their house around 5 pm, so that was quite a while. They walked me home (back up another bloody hill), all the while assuring me that the walking thing would get better. I wasn’t convinced, but agreed anyway.

That was the first few days. Since then I’ve been very productive—I’ve been making contacts like crazy. I visited my friend Scott’s in-laws, which was a great time. They were so kind and asked me to consider them family while I am here. That would have been enough, but his mother-in-law has agreed to teach me to cook Nepali food! I can make momos (little dumpling things which are fried heaven), but the ‘national’ food of Nepal—called dāl bhāt—escapes me. It doesn’t sound difficult—rice, lentils, curried vegetables, and pickle—and yet, they are quite particular about the way it should be cooked. So she is going to teach me when I return next year. I also need to learn to make chapattis, but that is for another day.

I still have quite a few things to do. I’m doing a few interviews next week, and I’m working on calling the West Bengal District archive, the National Library, and the Victoria Memorial Hall—all in Calcutta. I’d say that, over all, this has been a ridiculously productive and memorable trip. I was terrified of coming to India—I’ve spent the past 4 years focused on Nepal, and to have to change your dissertation focus COMPLETELY at the end of your second year is not necessarily advisable. I was also nervous about my health, which has yet to be even ok in Nepal. Plus, I’d never been to India and don’t speak a word of Hindi. It is close to Nepali, but not close enough to really be able to communicate effectively. Yet, I think it was really all for the best. I have found more research topics than I could have ever imagined, and will be able to continue to work here for many years to come.

That’s about it. I have only taken one roll of pictures, so will be working on getting more of them so I can eventually scan them. I only have three weeks and two days left in Darjeeling, then a week and a half in Calcutta. I just booked my hotel for the last two days. My flight leaves the 22nd at 7:30am, so I was trying to book a room at the hotel next to the airport. However, after being jerked around for the past two weeks, I discovered that the airport hotel is closed for renovations. As if they couldn’t just tell me that instead of pushing me to book elsewhere. I decided to chuck the agency suggestions and book at the Hyatt Regency. It is a little expensive, but I think totally worth it if only because they (for the room I’ve booked) give complimentary transfer to the airport. Finding a taxi at 5 am is difficult enough, but to find one that will actually show up is even more difficult. On top of that, there is no way I would be awake enough to argue about the price and so I would get ripped off anyway. One person quoted the taxi at US $40! Can you imagine! In the end, the room ends up being about $20 cheaper than the other hotels I found AND I get the ride to the airport—plus a few other things, like free breakfast, drinks in the evening, 35” flat screen TV in the room, and maybe, just maybe, a massage and facial. I really like India.

Can’t think of anything else to write. I have a sore throat right now, and so had to cancel an interview I had with a Times of India reporter since it hurts to talk! But considering the state of my health EVERY SINGLE TIME I’m in Nepal, I’ll take the sore throat. So far, a little more than a month into it, I’ve only had a little stomach upset. That was due to the cups of hot pepper they were putting in every meal. I’ve began requesting “no peppers” in my food—which translates to only three or four—and taking my twice daily dose of Pepcid AC, and I’ve been fine ever since. I think the sore throat is really a fine thing compared to dysentery, bronchitis, and all the other god-awful things that always happen to me in Nepal. But it means that I’m going to take it easy for a few days, because my last three weeks are, I’m sure, going to be a big push with the interviews.

I’ll try to keep updating as often as I can…but this is all very ordinary to me. Please let me know what you’d like to know about Darjeeling, Delhi, India, Nepal, or really anything. Either leave them on my guestbook or email me. I check my email every day, and the guestbook not quite so often, as long as the electricity hasn’t gone out. The monsoon hasn’t quite reached us yet, just like for most of the rest of India. It kind of stalled in southern India (near Goa) and in Bangladesh, so the weather has been pretty hellish through most of Northern India. Apparently Delhi was up around F 150 degrees the other day, so I’m pretty glad to be up this high. We’ve had a few days of rain in the last week—cleared out the tourists—but has been clear the past few days.

That’s pretty much it. I’m truly enjoying my time here and will be quite sad to leave. The people here are very nice, and I’ve found quite a few nice apartments that I could envision myself living in for a year or two.

Oh—my itinerary (in case you were wondering). I’ll be in Darjeeling until the morning of the 12th of July, and taking the train from here to Calcutta. I’m planning on staying with Arpita (friend and fellow graduate student at Rutgers) until the evening of the 16th, when I’ll move into another hotel. I’ll be in that hotel until the afternoon of the 20th, when I’m heading to the Hyatt. My flight leaves Friday morning and I’ll be arriving back in Indiana that evening (the 22nd). If anyone is really dying to talk to me, my phone number is (from the US): 00-98320-18286. There is no city or region code because it’s a mobile phone. I don’t expect any phone calls, but just in case!

Well, hope everyone is doing well…and I hope to have more adventures to write about in the near future!

Delhi--Part II

So the Oberoi:

We got out of the auto-rickshaw at a very impressive gate and walked through. The guards saluted us (something you have to get used to and not giggle every time like I do) and we started up the paved, perfectly manicured and landscaped drive. At the top of the hill sits the hotel. This amazing, gigantic, palace of a hotel. Sikh guards in matching uniforms and turbans opened the doors for us (yet another giggle) into the gigantic, marble-floored lobby. To the right was the newsstand and the entrance to the lounge area (more on that later), to the left was a hallway and the front desk. Tharpa led me, drooling, past the front desk to the French restaurant (redecorated in the last year in a minimalist style--very nice) and sushi bar. Opposite the restaurant, and to the right of the front desk, stairs descended down to the shopping floor. Gucci, Coach, various other clothing and jewelry designer shops lined the halls. LINED. We walked to the back to a shop that sells rugs from Kashmir. Tharpa wanted to show me a robe she's looked at the day before. The gentlemen who own the store are very proud to say that Richard Gere purchased one just like it (apparently good for meditation). I tried to keep the giggles to a minimum after that one. As if the man can't meditate in normal clothing--he has to have a $1,000 robe? Well, it was cashmere, lined and embroidered. So I can't hate him too much--good taste is just good taste!

Anyway, after we hung around there for a bit, we wandered over to the beauty salon. I sat and flipped though some magazines while Tharpa talked to her stylist. Nice enough place--but was never offered tea! Huh. When she finished, we decided to go up to the lounge and split a beer. So we walked back up the very impressive, overly clean, marble stairs to the lounge. The lounge is rectangular, with wooden paneling on three sides. The fourth side, next to which we sat in VERY comfortable chairs, is all glass over looking the pool. Oh yes--I said pool. A very large, very nice pool with lounge chairs surrounding it and a garden on the back. Ridiculous. So they brought us our beer (two glasses and some very spicy snacks) and we just sat and talked. I can't explain how nice this hotel is, except to say that if it was in the US--they would never let people like me past the guards at the front gate. Seriously, seriously swanky. It was about four pm and people were just starting to go out to the pool. I think the temperature had dropped to about 110 by that time, and so it was better than midday. We sat there for about an hour, talking and watching a very attractive man with an amazing breaststroke swim lazy laps. Not too shabby.

As we left, we decided to take a cab from the hotel front door rather than walk all the way down to the street and try to find an auto-rickshaw. So the very tall guard (maybe 6'5"--I'm talking TALL) called a taxi for us. I think he was a bit shocked when we told him where we were going--apparently people staying there don't often frequent the Defense Colony market. So he dropped us off and we did a bit more shopping. Headed back to the hotel to rest up a bit and shower--then we were off to dinner.

Dinner was at a restaurant called Flavours--the head chef (oh yes--I said head chef) is Italian and apparently liked India so much that he decided to say and open a few restaurants--well why not? If you have some free time, who WOULDN'T want to open a swanky Italian restaurant in Delhi. Anyhoo, we got there around 7:30 pm and sat down. There were only 5 other people in the restaurant--a couple and three tourists. So we ordered our food (Parma ham grilled pizza, caesar salad, and chocolate pudding) and just watched as the restaurant filled up quickly. Within in about 20 minutes, there was a line around the building. Great food, great atmosphere. I would absolutely recommend this place and look forward to returning. Tharpa knew a woman who used to work there (friend from Sikkim I believe), and so we got great service from her friends!

So that was my last day in Delhi. Overall, pretty successful--and I was quite well fed in preparation for Darjeeling.

I finished packing and was ready to leave for the airport at 8 am. Moses came once again to pick me up and drove me to the airport. Pretty uneventful morning--I checked in, went through security, and hung out in the lounge before my flight. Can't say the domestic terminal is that exciting--and not nearly enough seating. But I just read the newspaper until they announced my flight.

I was seated all the way in the back of the plane by the window. I sat next to two women with a very adorable baby. We took off on time (10:10 am) and flew over northern India. Very dry place this time of year. Nothing too exciting to report. The meal was ok, and most everyone got off at our first landing. I was going on to Bagdogra, so I just sat there. Once I arrived in Bagdogra, the only thing I could think of was, "Well its much greener here, but just as hot as Delhi!" The man was waiting there for me, and he helped me get my bags. A woman representing the travel agency came over to direct me to the jeep. Got to say--traveling in India is much easier with a travel agency. I recommend it--at least for the first time.

So I jumped in the jeep, only to discover that the $60 I'd paid for it (too much, by the way) was actually for the ENTIRE jeep! What a waste! My pathetic three little bags and me sitting in the back--wasting gas. Luckily, another tour guide from Darjeeling happened to be there, so he rode with me. Nice guy, and I would have loved to talk to him more. But after the first 10 minutes, my stomach started going crazy. I am NEVER carsick, but WOW the roads are not good. So I decided that rather than vomiting into my hat for the next three hours, I would sleep. I ended up missing the entire trip because of this. My stomach actually didn't improve until the day after!

So I woke up as we arrived in Darjeeling. Still bad roads, and lots of people. We drove up the hill, very up, and stopped at the top at my hotel--Hotel Silver Cascade. The staff jumped into action and carried everything I owned up to my room. That is really something I struggle getting used to--having people waiting on you! Just not my thing. Anyway, a representative of the local tourist agency was there to meet me and make sure everything was smooth. It was. I walked my wobbly self up the stairs and into the room.

My room is at the top of the stairs, the only guest room on the floor. It is smallish, but very nice. Huge bed, couch, dresser, small table (desk) tv, and attached bath with shower and toilet. The best part is the balcony. I have my own balcony over-looking the valley. The hotel is at the top of the hill, so I can look down and see just about the whole city. There is a Maharaja's palace over to the south (left of my room) and the city lays around the crest of the hill and runs down about half way down. It is very difficult to describe--so I will try to upload a picture if I can find somewhere to scan them.

As the hotel staff left my room, they asked if I would like a pot of tea. It was about 4 pm, and I really just wanted to vomit and go to bed. But I said yes. About 10 minutes later, a man appeared with tea. Not just tea, but tea in a silver tea set on a silver platter. I just feel ridiculous all the time here--it is just too nice for me. On his way out, he told me that I could order dinner downstairs and have it in my room. I've done that most evenings since. I am totally spoiled.

I spent most of the next day (Thursday) resting--the stomach wasn't really that great, and I didn't want to push it. Friday I decided to get a mobile phone since my hotel only had one phone and since I'd be calling people, libraries, and archives in Delhi, Darjeeling, and Calcutta, it would be easier that trekking down the hill to the phone stalls. There was a map of the city up in the hotel by the Darjeeling Language Institute, and the woman at the front desk gave me a copy and showed me where to purchase a phone.

ThatÂ’s all for now--I'll update again soon.

I meant to post this days ago...but the rains have been pretty killer and the electricity was knocked out for a few days to the internet cafe. But here goes..updates since the first few days of Delhi.

The Monday after I arrived was Buddha’s birthday, therefore a national holiday. Meaning for me that the archive and embassy were closed. Grrrr. So hung out most of that day, and called Moses about Tuesday. I was leaving Wednesday and didn’t have a great deal of time to hang around waiting for taxis. Tharpa (a friend I’d met at the guest house—she worked up in Sikkim, which is very near Darjeeling) decided to come with me around, and so we were picked up at around 8:30 am. I had decided to try the archive straight away, rather than driving to the American Embassy’s Cultural affairs office to get my THIRD letter of recommendation. Seriously, my research is of nothing sensitive, important, or (frankly) that interesting to anyone but me. I assumed that two letters from my University (advisor and graduate director) and a letter from the AIIS (American Institute of Indian Studies) would suffice. I was wrong.

We arrived at the National Archives of India—very impressive building with a huge courtyard and drive way from the gate house to the entrance of the building. The guards (about 5 of them) stopped our car and said that I had to go through the gate house to get access. So walked in and the small man (not stature, but status) growled at me to give him my letters of recommendation or he wouldn’t let me in. I, very coolly, said “One moment please,” and produced them promptly. I think he really, really wanted to tell me to shove off (you know, power trip of the bored and lame). But he took one look at the envelopes they were in and gave me a pass to get in. They wouldn’t let Tharpa in, only one person. So walked in and wandered into the first office I saw. I’m not convinced that it was the correct one…but whatever. The man at the desk asked me to sit down, and explained that there was no way they would let me have access to the archive without a letter from the embassy’s Cultural Affairs Office. I argued with him for a minute—gently of course, by explaining that I didn’t actually NEED access at that moment. I just needed someone to write a letter stating that they would allow me access in the future. No. No. NO. Fine. Great, grand, wonderful. Not only that…but he told me that I should really get back within the hour, otherwise I would have to wait a few days. I don’t actually understand that logic (I now believe that the actual person I needed to speak to was coming in and he wanted to make sure that I only went through him!). So I had to walk all the way back outside, find the car. Find Tharpa (who was making great friends with the guards—they were even bringing her tea). And head out to the U.S. Embassy Cultural Affairs Office. Everything was closed on Monday, and I had been basically incoherent on Friday (I’d arrived at the airport at 1 am Friday morning) so I hadn’t gotten all the details from the office about what I needed…only a name.

So we arrived, and the security was impressive. More than any other building in Delhi, I think. Tharpa had to give up her mobile phone and camera at the door…I had nothing but papers, so I was ok. The woman at the front desk called up to the woman in the office. We waited in the lobby for about 5 minutes, and this woman appeared. She asked me to sit down and explain my situation. I gave her my letters of recommendation and a copy of my research proposal (which I has only thrown in my bag at the last minute—it was my only copy!). I explained to her what my project was about and my situation. She said that she would give my packet to her boss and would call me when he finished the letters. I said, “Oh…didn’t I mention that I am leaving tomorrow morning?” She told me that her boss, understandably, doesn’t like to have things shoved under his nose to be immediately signed—and so she asked me if they could send them to me. I’m thinking—what the hell do I need with these letters once I get to Darjeeling? This means that I would have to return to Delhi sometime this summer (more money blown) just to pick up these blasted letters, give them to the archive, and then leave the same day? Come on? Do I really need to go to this archive that badly? Ok—I do need this archive that badly. So I agreed. I started to give her the address of the hotel in Darjeeling—but I didn’t have the full address. She looked at me—do I detect a bit of pity?—and asked Tharpa and I to wait there for a few minutes. I’m thinking “great. This is how my research begins? What kind of anthropologist doesn’t have the address of where they are staying at every point in the trip. I suck.” Tharpa and I talk for a few minutes, and then the woman appears…with an entire folder of things. She had, in about 15 minutes, convinced her boss to sign the letter for not only the National Archives, but the Archaeological Survey of India, made extra copies of my research proposal, extra copies of my letters of recommendation, and extra copies of the letters from her boss!!!!! I nearly kissed her. She fixed my world in about 15 minutes! And made sure that I had her phone number in case I needed another letter (which I did, this week—but I will get to that later).

So we were on our way! We found Moses, drove BACK to the archives, and went back inside to that same office. He wasn’t there…but two guys playing on his computer were. I explained, again, what I needed and they asked me to sit on the strange, uncomfortable couch in the office. Fine. They disappeared. Fine. And an angel appeared—the assistant archivist! She asked me to follow her to the archives (where I was…I will only discover when I return here next year) and explain to her what I needed. So we did, and I did. Then the main archivist showed up. She passed me to him…and he told me that he couldn’t write a letter. Oh. How very disappointing. Then he says, “What if I just give you access to the archive? How long? Is one year enough?” WHAT!!! You can just do that?? Even if I’m not going to be around for another year? WHAT!!!! I asked if I could have access for two years—“Since I’m not going to be returning for a year.” He says, “Of course! Please fill out this form.” The form was about 10 lines…he stamped it…and I was done! I made sure to get his full name and title to quote in my grant proposals—But I have research access to the National Archives in India until May 2007! Good stuff. The entire transaction took a total of about 10 minutes. He then let me into the archives to let me begin! Unfortunately, I had other errands to do AND get back to pack. But I do have a bit of an idea what the place looks like, and he did explain the set up and procedures.

I went back outside to get Tharpa, we picked up my ticket and hotel information, changed money, and then had Moses drop us off at a coffee shop on Janpath. Tharpa and I had a bit of lunch and cooled off in the air conditioning (it was about 120 at that point) before we walked down Janpath to do a bit of end of trip shopping. At the end of the road is a McDonalds—so I just HAD to order French fries and an orange soda. Sat in the air conditioning, with my fries and soda. Brilliant! Absolutely BRILLIANT!!! I love Delhi.

We decided to catch an auto-rickshaw back to the hotel…and on the way, Tharpa asked me if I would mind if we stopped off at the Oberoi. She’d had her hair done their a few days before, and wanted to know what the man had used because in the heat and humidity had not changed her style (her hair is curly like mine and it had stayed straight for two days). So I agreed. I am so glad we did. But that will have to wait for another day…

Sorry

To all that have sent me messages asking for updates--I'm sorry! I have been terribly busy here in Darjeeling and so haven't had time to update. However, I will be doing so soon. In the meantime, rest assured that everything is going well. Better than I could have ever expected! I have no doubts that this is the place for me.

You WILL be seeing more updates!

Chelsea

Update--Part I

My apologies for not posting in such a long time (especially to you dad!). It has been a crazy couple of weeks, and I will try to fill in all the gaps.

I left for Delhi on May 18th, traveling through London. I had expected (and been told) that I could shower at Heathrow but alas, that was not the case. I can’t tell you how disappointed I was…but, life goes on! The trip was uneventful, and I arrived in Delhi at 11pm local time on the 19th. A lovely man named Moses picked me up and drove me to the guesthouse in Defense Colony (for those with maps). We couldn’t get into the neighborhood because all of the gates were closed, so we ended up driving around for an extra 25 minutes trying to find one that way open. Great for security, unless you are the one that wants to get in! So we finally found the place, and I went upstairs and crashed.

The AIIS guesthouse is great. Air conditioning, an amazing cook (Ashok) who can make just about anything in the world, and huge rooms with private baths. Just what I needed for my first few days. I didn’t do much the first day…just met other graduate students staying at the guesthouse. Really great people.

Saturday, another guest and I (a great woman working for a university in Gangtok, Sikkim) decided to go out for a bit of shopping. I’m sure those of you that know me well are not surprised that I am willing to brave temperatures of upwards of 115 to shop. We went to Janpath, and I didn’t buy a thing. I know, I know—you are thinking that I am sick. But it was just good judgment and possibly a sign of maturity? To get out of the heat, my friend and I ducked into a Barista, which is basically Starbucks, only better. Not only are the drinks amazing, but they have WIRELESS INERNET!!!!! I couldn’t believe it. That was nearly enough for me to change my research site to Delhi.

Sunday was the shopping day...so much for maturity! Fab India is my new favorite place in the world (thanks Arpita!) and will be my downfall. I purchased three shirts and a leather bag that is heaven. Really and truly heaven. I can’t even talk about it…I just get too emotional. Next door, two pairs of shoes. Next we had lunch at maybe the nicest restaurant I’ve ever been allowed inside (well, until Tuesday…but that is for a later post). I had a roasted tomato soup with fresh pesto and basil.

Well, I’ll have to give the rest of the details tomorrow. Must actually do some work today. For those that worry, please don’t--I am ok…working toward good even. And there are only fifty-odd days until I return. Wait, that means a great deal of research. Going now!

See you soon.