I don't have anything interesting to write about, but these are some things that have happened in the last week:
-I wore a sari! I attended a coworker's wedding reception and Auntie Sabira lent me one of her most beautiful saris - a pretty silk, jungle green and soft yellow sari. Amazingly, it didn't fall off. I got so many stares and head turns that I might as well have been butt naked.
-I took a trip to a little Indian vacation town called Mount Abu with some friends, during which an amoeba attacked my stomach (for the third time this year), but conveniently went away when I got back to Udaipur and back to work.
-I rode on the back of a motorcycle with a friend who, frankly, didn't know at all how to drive a motorcycle. I only fell off once.
-One of my coworkers took his daily afternoon nap at his desk and was awoken when a chipmunk jumped on his chest.
-Overnight, my bathroom became infested with hundreds of ants. They covered the floor, the base of the toilet, the side of the tub, the walls. I sprayed poison and swept the ant corpses into a pile, which wouldn't even fit down the drain. So I left the corpses in the middle of the floor as a warning to ants who try to make their home in my bathroom in the future. (Sorry, Valle.)
-According to google weather, it hit 107 degrees in Udaipur this week.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Udaipur Favorites
Hathipole
This is my favorite neighborhood in Udaipur. It is near the touristy Old City, so it has some of the characteristic narrow, winding streets and shops selling colorful handbags, but it is far enough that it is exclusively local. To me, it is an exciting market neighborhood, full of all the colors and sounds and smells that I love about India.
Hathipole centers around a traffic circle that hosts a white temple-looking building, though I'm not really sure what it is. Past the traffic circle are small, narrow streets that wind around each other dizzingly, and there are plenty of alleyways where I easily get lost. Near the center of Hathipole, where the tempos stop and drop me off, there is a huge, viney tree that casts plenty of shade. There are always men - some wearing all white, many going barefoot - squatting in the shadows watching the traffic pass. I am not sure what they are doing or how long they sit for each day.
I go to this neighborhood to buy cotton. Several streets are lined with cloth stores - some sell cotton, some sell silk, some sell saris, others have ready-made clothes with sequences and tiny mirrors sewn into the bright patterns. All the shops have fabric samples hanging in the windows or doorway, and it is a very colorful neighborhood. After I sift through piles of cotton, I buy a few meters, then take it to my favorite tailor (who by now knows exactly how I like my shirts to be cut) in a small alleyway. We speak a hybrid of Hindi and English.
There are endless fruit and vegetable carts being wheeled through Hathipole. I have been trying to learn all the different types of mango now that they are in season. Also I have a favorite store where I go for fresh juice. I can choose from sweet lime, pineapple, orange, pomegranate, and coconut - one glass is between $0.10 and $0.50! There are also many sugarcane juice vendors who churn the long stalks of cane through the hand grinder, but personally I don't care for sugarcane juice.
The streets of Hathipole are both mesmerizing and frustrating. Though there are many people walking everywhere, motorcycles and autorickshaws are constantly forcing me to back into a corner or press against a building so that they don't run me over. The streets are crowded with frail old men in white dhotis (what we think of as Ghandi pants) riding bicycles, autorickshaws, vegetable carts, pedestrians carrying bags of crops on their heads, and motorcycles carrying a full family of five, all compete to get around the same narrow corner first. There are also many animals - herds of goats sitting in the shade, a group of small donkeys carrying loads of sticks or cement, and sometimes elephants and camels. The donkeys here are especially cute - they are very small compared to the ones at home. Don't people sometimes ride donkeys? These little guys are only waist high next to me.
There are all sorts of stores and roadside shrines in Hathipole. At certain times of day a shrine will loudly clang its bells and burn lots of incense and people enter to see the divine image. Many stores sell Hindu paraphernalia - incense, candles, ribbons and cloths to decorate a shrine, pictures of various gods, and even Ganesha stickers.
This weekend, Auntie and I went to Hathipole to run errands together. She showed me the Muslim neighborhood in Hathipole, which I never would have found myself. It felt like a little secret world. The men were all wearing the traditional Muslim caps, and the women all dressed in Muslim prayer dresses. The tiny alleys seemed peaceful and calmer - there was hardly any traffic. She also took me to the Darga, which is a building that houses the tombs of three Muslim holy men. We went inside and she taught me to pay my respects.
Then - so exciting!- we went to the mosque. Afternoon prayer was just letting out, so we waited for the mosque to empty and then went inside. It was very cool and peaceful and quiet. The walls were lined with blue and green tiles spelling out script from the Quran. There were balconies for the women, and on the ground floor there were lofty ceilings but also quiet corners with columns and low ceilings that made me want to curl up and have a moment of peace. One very old man was just leaving, and he asked me a bunch of question about where I was from, and explained to me the importance of daily prayers in Islam. For some reason I was scared he would ask me to leave when he learned I was not Muslim, but he never did - he was so kind and excited to tell me a few things about the mosque.
Other favorites
After dusk. I love the evenings in Udaipur. Right around 7:30 or 8, after the sun has set and the shops light up and the streets are still bustling and busy. The city seems lively and exciting as people leave work, buy fresh vegetables, and head for home. With the sun gone it is (only slightly) cooler, and I can smell samosas frying and incense burning, and bells clang loudly from temples all around.
Baby animals. Some things never change - I am still a fanatic animal lover. My favorites are baby goats, and for that reason alone I love visiting the goattery at KVK. I melt whenever I see someone on the back of a motorcycle holding a baby goat in his arms, who is happily sitting in his pile of herbs munching away. Once in a village I cuddled with a 10-day-old water buffalo - adorable! I am generally scared of the adult buffalo, but this little guy was too cute. Also baby monkeys, puppies, and chicks provide endless entertainment for me.
Solo autorickshaw rides. I love riding in them by myself, especially at night. It is a peaceful way reflect on India as I pass through the city - I am sheltered under the low roof of the auto but still able to experience India with my eyes and ears and nose.
Om Shanti Om. This is a new Bollywood movie and everyone should go rent it now. If you love song-and-dance movies with cliche but beautiful characters, this is the movie for you. I'm in love with it - the soundtrack is great, it stars Shah Rukh Khan (the God of Bollywood), and the plot does slightly deviate from the normal Bollywood template.
Fennel seeds. Most restaurants here offer fennel seeds mixed with sugar as an ending to every meal. It is a natural breath freshener and digestive aid - perfect!
Bangles. They are everywhere! There are many bangle shops (especially in Hathipole) but also some vendors roam they city with carts full of colorful bangle bracelets. I already have about 10 sets.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Summertime in the Desert
The temperature has been rising since I arrived in Udaipur in February, and I miss the chilly nights that once upon a time required a fleece and scarf. Now it is constantly in the high 90s, and will only get hotter.
This is what I have done so far to stay cool:
New clothes. I bought two new sets of cotton to make two new shalwaar kameez sets and some shirts. I obsessively searched the whole town for the finest, lightest cotton possible. It cost me a pretty penny, but it's been worth it. I am wearing one new shalwaar kameez now, and it feels like I am wearing pajamas and an undershirt. Fabulous.
Lime soda. Whenever I go out to eat, I drink lime soda - a genius invention in India. The waiter brings me fresh squeezed lime juice in a chilled glass, sugar, and a cold bottle of soda water to mix myself. So refreshing.
Rearranging my bedroom. Since I got a new bed in my room at home, Auntie helped me angle it so that it is closest to the ceiling fan as possible. Also I sleep with my head at the foot of the bed, in the middle of the room, so that I am getting airflow directly to my head. Sometimes I sleep naked too.
Midnight showers. I have resorted by to my old trick from summers in Mexico. When I wake up in the middle of the night in a full sweat, I jump in the shower! At least to get my head wet, and sometimes my pajamas too.
Wet towel. Some people in Udaipur insist that when I go outside, I wear a wet towel on my head. It seems a bit silly to me, and I haven't tried it yet, but as it gets hotter I might get desperate.
Cold coffee. Even in the hot summers, people still drink hot chai several times a day. I still drink it as well, but recently I had a great idea to buy some instant coffee to make for myself. In the afternoons now, I mix the coffee, sugar, purified water, and some chilled milk in a glass and keep it in the fridge for an hour for it to get it cold. It's a great afternoon drink to cool me down and give me an energy boost when the heat is exhausting.
Watermelons and mangos. They are now in season and I am very excited. Auntie says she makes watermelon sherbet in the summer, and I couldn't be happier. We even have our own mango tree in the garden! Yummy.
This is what I have done so far to stay cool:
New clothes. I bought two new sets of cotton to make two new shalwaar kameez sets and some shirts. I obsessively searched the whole town for the finest, lightest cotton possible. It cost me a pretty penny, but it's been worth it. I am wearing one new shalwaar kameez now, and it feels like I am wearing pajamas and an undershirt. Fabulous.
Lime soda. Whenever I go out to eat, I drink lime soda - a genius invention in India. The waiter brings me fresh squeezed lime juice in a chilled glass, sugar, and a cold bottle of soda water to mix myself. So refreshing.
Rearranging my bedroom. Since I got a new bed in my room at home, Auntie helped me angle it so that it is closest to the ceiling fan as possible. Also I sleep with my head at the foot of the bed, in the middle of the room, so that I am getting airflow directly to my head. Sometimes I sleep naked too.
Midnight showers. I have resorted by to my old trick from summers in Mexico. When I wake up in the middle of the night in a full sweat, I jump in the shower! At least to get my head wet, and sometimes my pajamas too.
Wet towel. Some people in Udaipur insist that when I go outside, I wear a wet towel on my head. It seems a bit silly to me, and I haven't tried it yet, but as it gets hotter I might get desperate.
Cold coffee. Even in the hot summers, people still drink hot chai several times a day. I still drink it as well, but recently I had a great idea to buy some instant coffee to make for myself. In the afternoons now, I mix the coffee, sugar, purified water, and some chilled milk in a glass and keep it in the fridge for an hour for it to get it cold. It's a great afternoon drink to cool me down and give me an energy boost when the heat is exhausting.
Watermelons and mangos. They are now in season and I am very excited. Auntie says she makes watermelon sherbet in the summer, and I couldn't be happier. We even have our own mango tree in the garden! Yummy.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Auntie Sabira
During my time in Udaipur, I have been living with a wonderful host family, which consists of one woman. Her name is Sabira, which in Arabic means "have patience." She is a widow, and her two sons live in Delhi and Mumbai where they are attending college.
Auntie and I are very close, and she is very easy to get along with. I feel very comfortable in her house, and I can fix myself chai or toast or watch television whenever I want, for which I am very thankful.
Auntie's house is very roomy and big, though it is sparsely furnished. For the first two months I was sleeping on a mat on the floor, which I didn't mind at all, and is very normal in Indian homes I think. (Now a bed has been moved in my room only because I was having trouble sleeping for a few nights and she thought it might help.) I have my own bathroom - complete with a Western-style toilet and shower, quite a luxury! However there is no mirror except at the sink in the dining room. It's odd. Auntie also has a very nice front yard and garden and patio. There is a big papaya tree that is constantly giving us ripe fruit, and it is in season all year long! It's a nice ending to every meal. There are other herb plants and fruit trees, and she keeps a small compost pit to fertilize the trees and flower beds.
Auntie is obsessed about maintaining a zero-waste household. All the extra food from our plates we put in a pile and throw outside to the cows each day. Plastic bags are a big no-no, and she always carries an extra shopping bag in her purse when she goes out. There are no trash cans in our house (or anywhere in India, for that matter), so I keep everything in a bag in my room until it fills up. Then Auntie helps me sort the trash. She keeps sheets of plastic wrap (neatly folded) and plastic bottles in boxes under the stairs, either to use for crafts or to give to poor people to recycle for a small sum of money.
In fact, Auntie is always remembering the poor people. I gather she comes from a relatively wealthy family, but she lives a very simple life with very few luxuries. She chooses to buy fruits and vegetables from the farmers markets rather than the fancy new grocery store in town, even if it means making an extra stop when she is running errands. She doesn't mind packing herself in a crowded tempo full of farmers and goats, as opposed to taking a more comfortable autorickshaw or taxi. And sometimes she buys papads from a poor woman she knows in Udaipur, rather than making them herself, because she realizes they need her business.
The food at Auntie's house has been amazing. Though I have been getting sick of eating heavy restaurant food, which is the same gravy dishes with naan you find in the United States, I never get tired of Auntie's cooking. Lunch and dinner usually consist of some vegetable dish full of Indian spices and eaten with roti, a light, fluffy wheat bread. Other times we have yogurt-based curry with rice; sometimes we have dal. We never eat with utensils, so even if its soup for dinner, we tear up pieces of roti and stuff them into the soup bowls until they soak up all the juices and we eat it with our hands. Auntie is very health conscious, so there is very little oil in our food. She often opts to use sunflower oil instead of ghee, because it has less cholesterol. Also she usually cuts up fresh cucumber and carrots to eat at lunch, and there is always papaya or some other fruit for dessert.
My favorite part about our home is the milk. Every evening around 7:30pm, a boy comes to our house on his motorcycle and delivers milk, which is maybe an hour fresh from his farm. We carry a bowl outside and he spoons out a half-liter of whole, unpasteurized milk. Then we heat the milk until it boils. In the morning, Auntie scrapes the cream off the top, and with that she either makes ghee (a yummy, soft butter) or yogurt or chach. The rest of the milk we use for chai or the occassional cornflakes.
Auntie speaks English because she lived in Dubai for 14 years when her husband was alive. Granted, her English isn't the best, and sometimes I don't know what she means when she says things like, "What this thing in our hand we are doing otherwise?" Sometimes she gives me a simple task in the kitchen while she is on the phone or otherwise occupied, and will come back to see that I have completely ruined the meal because she gave backwards instructions in English. In any case I love talking to Auntie about about all sorts of things. She is full of kindness and wisdom, and I never cease to be amazed and inspired by her.
We often talk about religion, and though she is Bohara (sp?) Muslim, she insists that she doesn't like to talk about the differences of the sects of Islam, because it is all the same religion and same God. She speaks in the same way about other religions, saying she does not concern herself over what religions her friends practice, and prefers to talk about the similarities they all have, such as showing kindness to all people. When I asked her if I could accompany her sometime to the mosque, she said it would be no problem, and when I pressed her to make sure it was okay, she said, "Mosque is God's house. It does not belong to anyone else. So how can someone say you cannot enter?"
Auntie can also be surprisingly open about her past and her private life. She has given me interesting insight into the lives of Indian women. She tells me stories about how her girlfriends used to follow her around and beg her to fix their hair just like hers, or how when they hit puberty they would meet in secret behind locked doors and talk about getting their periods. Auntie also whispered, "Then, when we are married, like this we talk about the first time, too!" and then burst into a fit of giggles. And then she added, "And, our friends who are already married, they give advice!" We have also talked a lot about arranged marriages, and she goes over all the details with me about how she was matched with her husband, how she felt, when they met, what the engagement was like, and so on.
My second week at Auntie's house, she gave me one of her own kurtas - a long traditional shirt. I had been admiring hers all week, and she knew I liked blue, so she gave me a nice, cotton, blue stripped kurta. I asked her why, and she giggled and said, "Because you are like my daughter." And it's true, she has treated me just like a daughter. I can barely sit and read for five minutes without her bringing me tea and plopping down and asking me about my day. If we are watching TV in Hindi at night and she senses I am bored, she'll pull out a board game or UNO cards. This week Auntie went to Delhi to visit her son, and when she left she gave me the sweetest hug and repeated kisses on the cheek, and I will be very very thankful to have her back tomorrow.
Auntie and I are very close, and she is very easy to get along with. I feel very comfortable in her house, and I can fix myself chai or toast or watch television whenever I want, for which I am very thankful.
Auntie's house is very roomy and big, though it is sparsely furnished. For the first two months I was sleeping on a mat on the floor, which I didn't mind at all, and is very normal in Indian homes I think. (Now a bed has been moved in my room only because I was having trouble sleeping for a few nights and she thought it might help.) I have my own bathroom - complete with a Western-style toilet and shower, quite a luxury! However there is no mirror except at the sink in the dining room. It's odd. Auntie also has a very nice front yard and garden and patio. There is a big papaya tree that is constantly giving us ripe fruit, and it is in season all year long! It's a nice ending to every meal. There are other herb plants and fruit trees, and she keeps a small compost pit to fertilize the trees and flower beds.
Auntie is obsessed about maintaining a zero-waste household. All the extra food from our plates we put in a pile and throw outside to the cows each day. Plastic bags are a big no-no, and she always carries an extra shopping bag in her purse when she goes out. There are no trash cans in our house (or anywhere in India, for that matter), so I keep everything in a bag in my room until it fills up. Then Auntie helps me sort the trash. She keeps sheets of plastic wrap (neatly folded) and plastic bottles in boxes under the stairs, either to use for crafts or to give to poor people to recycle for a small sum of money.
In fact, Auntie is always remembering the poor people. I gather she comes from a relatively wealthy family, but she lives a very simple life with very few luxuries. She chooses to buy fruits and vegetables from the farmers markets rather than the fancy new grocery store in town, even if it means making an extra stop when she is running errands. She doesn't mind packing herself in a crowded tempo full of farmers and goats, as opposed to taking a more comfortable autorickshaw or taxi. And sometimes she buys papads from a poor woman she knows in Udaipur, rather than making them herself, because she realizes they need her business.
The food at Auntie's house has been amazing. Though I have been getting sick of eating heavy restaurant food, which is the same gravy dishes with naan you find in the United States, I never get tired of Auntie's cooking. Lunch and dinner usually consist of some vegetable dish full of Indian spices and eaten with roti, a light, fluffy wheat bread. Other times we have yogurt-based curry with rice; sometimes we have dal. We never eat with utensils, so even if its soup for dinner, we tear up pieces of roti and stuff them into the soup bowls until they soak up all the juices and we eat it with our hands. Auntie is very health conscious, so there is very little oil in our food. She often opts to use sunflower oil instead of ghee, because it has less cholesterol. Also she usually cuts up fresh cucumber and carrots to eat at lunch, and there is always papaya or some other fruit for dessert.
My favorite part about our home is the milk. Every evening around 7:30pm, a boy comes to our house on his motorcycle and delivers milk, which is maybe an hour fresh from his farm. We carry a bowl outside and he spoons out a half-liter of whole, unpasteurized milk. Then we heat the milk until it boils. In the morning, Auntie scrapes the cream off the top, and with that she either makes ghee (a yummy, soft butter) or yogurt or chach. The rest of the milk we use for chai or the occassional cornflakes.
Auntie speaks English because she lived in Dubai for 14 years when her husband was alive. Granted, her English isn't the best, and sometimes I don't know what she means when she says things like, "What this thing in our hand we are doing otherwise?" Sometimes she gives me a simple task in the kitchen while she is on the phone or otherwise occupied, and will come back to see that I have completely ruined the meal because she gave backwards instructions in English. In any case I love talking to Auntie about about all sorts of things. She is full of kindness and wisdom, and I never cease to be amazed and inspired by her.
We often talk about religion, and though she is Bohara (sp?) Muslim, she insists that she doesn't like to talk about the differences of the sects of Islam, because it is all the same religion and same God. She speaks in the same way about other religions, saying she does not concern herself over what religions her friends practice, and prefers to talk about the similarities they all have, such as showing kindness to all people. When I asked her if I could accompany her sometime to the mosque, she said it would be no problem, and when I pressed her to make sure it was okay, she said, "Mosque is God's house. It does not belong to anyone else. So how can someone say you cannot enter?"
Auntie can also be surprisingly open about her past and her private life. She has given me interesting insight into the lives of Indian women. She tells me stories about how her girlfriends used to follow her around and beg her to fix their hair just like hers, or how when they hit puberty they would meet in secret behind locked doors and talk about getting their periods. Auntie also whispered, "Then, when we are married, like this we talk about the first time, too!" and then burst into a fit of giggles. And then she added, "And, our friends who are already married, they give advice!" We have also talked a lot about arranged marriages, and she goes over all the details with me about how she was matched with her husband, how she felt, when they met, what the engagement was like, and so on.
My second week at Auntie's house, she gave me one of her own kurtas - a long traditional shirt. I had been admiring hers all week, and she knew I liked blue, so she gave me a nice, cotton, blue stripped kurta. I asked her why, and she giggled and said, "Because you are like my daughter." And it's true, she has treated me just like a daughter. I can barely sit and read for five minutes without her bringing me tea and plopping down and asking me about my day. If we are watching TV in Hindi at night and she senses I am bored, she'll pull out a board game or UNO cards. This week Auntie went to Delhi to visit her son, and when she left she gave me the sweetest hug and repeated kisses on the cheek, and I will be very very thankful to have her back tomorrow.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Elephant Love!
This afternoon after I finished my work, I went to my favorite neighborhood in Udaipur with Maddie to look for a few things I needed to buy. Soon we got too hot and tired to browse any more stores. I bought fresh-squeezed sweet lime and orange juice to cool off. I was still hot and tired. So we walked to the Old City to find a rooftop restaurant with a good breeze and nice view of the lakes where we could order a (hopefully cold) beer.
As we were navigating the winding, narrow streets of the Old City, we suddenly came upon a giant elephant standing in the street! I see elephants quite a lot in Udaipur, but it was the first time I had seen one that seemed unoccupied, just standing around waiting for a tourist to ride him. (Otherwise I generally see elephants booking it through the busy city streets, sometimes carrying crops.)
I happened to have some snack-y food items in my bag, so I ran up in front of the elephant and asked the Indian man sitting on top if I could feed him. He said yes, and I almost died of happiness.
The elephant's name was Ram, and I instantly fell in love with him. His face and body were painted lightly with flowery designs, and - lest he forget his name - "Ram" was painted on his forehead in bright colors. I fed him handfuls of crunchy goodness, which he scooped out of my hand and shoveled into his mouth. He seemed very happy, but not as elated and giddy as I was.
Maddie snapped pictures, and even when the feeding was over, I couldn't stop petting his big face and hugging his trunk and telling Ram that I loved him. It was an amazing feeling to be so close to an animal that immense and powerful! His skin was so thick and covered in scratchy hairs. He seemed happier than the first elephant I met. Ram kept swinging his trunk around, playing with a small branch he had, and his eyes even seemed to wink at me.
I also talked to the owner (in Hindi, I might add) about Ram. I learned that he is forty years old and lives in Udaipur. His stomach is very big and robust because he is a good eater. He also loves to give tourists rides around the city, and he does not overcharge. I told Ram we would take him up on his generous offer another day.
Pictures soon to come!
As we were navigating the winding, narrow streets of the Old City, we suddenly came upon a giant elephant standing in the street! I see elephants quite a lot in Udaipur, but it was the first time I had seen one that seemed unoccupied, just standing around waiting for a tourist to ride him. (Otherwise I generally see elephants booking it through the busy city streets, sometimes carrying crops.)
I happened to have some snack-y food items in my bag, so I ran up in front of the elephant and asked the Indian man sitting on top if I could feed him. He said yes, and I almost died of happiness.
The elephant's name was Ram, and I instantly fell in love with him. His face and body were painted lightly with flowery designs, and - lest he forget his name - "Ram" was painted on his forehead in bright colors. I fed him handfuls of crunchy goodness, which he scooped out of my hand and shoveled into his mouth. He seemed very happy, but not as elated and giddy as I was.
Maddie snapped pictures, and even when the feeding was over, I couldn't stop petting his big face and hugging his trunk and telling Ram that I loved him. It was an amazing feeling to be so close to an animal that immense and powerful! His skin was so thick and covered in scratchy hairs. He seemed happier than the first elephant I met. Ram kept swinging his trunk around, playing with a small branch he had, and his eyes even seemed to wink at me.
I also talked to the owner (in Hindi, I might add) about Ram. I learned that he is forty years old and lives in Udaipur. His stomach is very big and robust because he is a good eater. He also loves to give tourists rides around the city, and he does not overcharge. I told Ram we would take him up on his generous offer another day.
Pictures soon to come!
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Familiarity and Random Assocations
India can be intense, because everything is so different from what I am used to at home. I think this is why I was drawn here in the first place, and what makes me love it so much. So it's surprising sometimes when something unexpectedly reminds me of home, or of other places that I miss.
The first time it happened was when I tried a local fruit called chiku. It looks like a kiwi fruit on the outside, but when you peel it, the flesh is pinkish brownish. And when I bit into it, it tasted like Mexico. During the summers I spent in Merida in high school, I became obsessed with the local fruits. One fruit called mamey was big like a papaya, but reddish-orangish on the inside. The mamey and chiku fruits have similar flavors, which have an odd sweetness similar to a date or brown sugar. In any case, it was odd to be overcome with reminders of Mexico when I am in India.
Then, a few weeks ago, I went with my friend Tim on a morning walk before work. We met at 7:15 on the street corner where we both live, and we walked to one of Udaipur's many lakes, then made our way up a small mountain (or big hill?) where there was a Hindu temple at the top and beautiful views of the city. It was damp and there was a light sprinkling of rain that morning, which kept us cool. Near the bottom of the hill and by the lake, where one main road crosses with another, there were some little shops and chai stalls where people were crowded under the thatched roofs to avoid the wetness. As the city was waking up, shop owners were starting their fires over which they would boil chai and fry samosas. And suddenly I was overcome with intense memories of Ecuador, and specifically, the Amazon. The smell of the wood burning fires, combined with the cool feeling of dampness and smell of rain, immediately brought me back to mornings in the rainforest when we would all huddle around a fire and drink steaming tea and eat baked bananas. It made me miss Ecuador so badly, and the rainforest was vividly alive in my mind all day long.
It wasn't until this past weekend that I had flashbacks to Kentucky, and for the first time since I have been here, I became homesick. My friend Andrew, who works for an MIT development project in Udaipur, rented a farmhouse outside of the city and threw a big party. Probably all of the foreigners living in Udaipur attended, plus some local friends. We hung out on the candle-lit rooftop all night long, where music from home made me feel slightly American again. Once during the night, I wandered a little by myself on the dirt road in front of the farmhouse. In the dark, it almost felt like I was on a farm in Kentucky. I could see the outlines of the farms all around me, which were separated by fences. There were some huge, old trees with good climbing branches along the road as well, and I could see bats flying from one to the other. Though there was not a drop of humidity in the air, it was warm with a nice breeze, just like a summer night in Kentucky, and I pretended like it would all be lush and green in the daytime.
I'm not usually one to get homesick, but I think the knowledge that I am here for so long makes me more susceptible to homesickness than I have been before. Send me emails! And pictures! It helps.
The first time it happened was when I tried a local fruit called chiku. It looks like a kiwi fruit on the outside, but when you peel it, the flesh is pinkish brownish. And when I bit into it, it tasted like Mexico. During the summers I spent in Merida in high school, I became obsessed with the local fruits. One fruit called mamey was big like a papaya, but reddish-orangish on the inside. The mamey and chiku fruits have similar flavors, which have an odd sweetness similar to a date or brown sugar. In any case, it was odd to be overcome with reminders of Mexico when I am in India.
Then, a few weeks ago, I went with my friend Tim on a morning walk before work. We met at 7:15 on the street corner where we both live, and we walked to one of Udaipur's many lakes, then made our way up a small mountain (or big hill?) where there was a Hindu temple at the top and beautiful views of the city. It was damp and there was a light sprinkling of rain that morning, which kept us cool. Near the bottom of the hill and by the lake, where one main road crosses with another, there were some little shops and chai stalls where people were crowded under the thatched roofs to avoid the wetness. As the city was waking up, shop owners were starting their fires over which they would boil chai and fry samosas. And suddenly I was overcome with intense memories of Ecuador, and specifically, the Amazon. The smell of the wood burning fires, combined with the cool feeling of dampness and smell of rain, immediately brought me back to mornings in the rainforest when we would all huddle around a fire and drink steaming tea and eat baked bananas. It made me miss Ecuador so badly, and the rainforest was vividly alive in my mind all day long.
It wasn't until this past weekend that I had flashbacks to Kentucky, and for the first time since I have been here, I became homesick. My friend Andrew, who works for an MIT development project in Udaipur, rented a farmhouse outside of the city and threw a big party. Probably all of the foreigners living in Udaipur attended, plus some local friends. We hung out on the candle-lit rooftop all night long, where music from home made me feel slightly American again. Once during the night, I wandered a little by myself on the dirt road in front of the farmhouse. In the dark, it almost felt like I was on a farm in Kentucky. I could see the outlines of the farms all around me, which were separated by fences. There were some huge, old trees with good climbing branches along the road as well, and I could see bats flying from one to the other. Though there was not a drop of humidity in the air, it was warm with a nice breeze, just like a summer night in Kentucky, and I pretended like it would all be lush and green in the daytime.
I'm not usually one to get homesick, but I think the knowledge that I am here for so long makes me more susceptible to homesickness than I have been before. Send me emails! And pictures! It helps.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)