india, so far, has been everything i'd imagined and simultaneously everything i couldn't have fathomed.
candice (my fellow classmate) and i have managed to find every rickshaw in mumbai that has vehicular difficulties. example: one got a flat tire as we pulled onto the five lane highway; one just stopped running while we were in the middle of the road; one was unfamiliar with his surroundings as well as the location we desired and what should have taken 4 minutes turned into a 45 minute scenic drive; one i was sure was taking us to be sold into sex slavery; several of them i could have out-walked.
two weeks ago we visited a slum. we met a young girl who has the spirit of an angel but life circumstances of which no one is deserving. i cannot adequately describe a slum. i feel like a young child who's been told of airplanes her whole life but for the first time has seen one up close. i could still not tell you why or how it operates, but at least now i have seen and it is not the type of thing words can capture.
there is poverty in the world like i could not imagine. and now i don't have to.
we met some Swedish boys who've helped in our transition a bit...mostly it's just nice to have people understand the words coming out of your mouth.
i've been instructed to wear the local garb to avoid being stared at...a ploy that has not worked, and has also backfired. you know those people that come to the U.S. with clothes right out of the early 1990s because they've seen on TV what 'cool' American wear? I'm the equivalent of that person in India. basically they have me in over sized pjs made from the brightest and thinnest of materials. i look like a walking skittles commercial.
this last saturday we went by the gateway of india to take a boat ride to elephanta island. i know what you're thinking: an island full of elephants! how marvelous!! no, as it turns out, there are no elephants. however, the island is over run by who've been far too long exposed to humans. they have no fear of people. none. i watched one monkey grab a piece of hot corn on the cob out of a man's hand and then another monkey grab the coke bottle out of the other hand. the monkey then twisted off the top and began to drink from the bottle. i immediately took all belongings resembling food or beverage and put them in my purse. and then avoided eye contact.
india is wild.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Soiled Check!
Alright, some of you know and some of you don't, but I'm on my way to India for the semester (woot woot). I planned a week vaca. in London/Paris prior to my final destination in Mumbai. I'll write more on this later.
I left from New York City and spent four days there with my incredible and adventurous friend Morgan who's just moved to Manhattan to begin her masters in publishing at NYU. She is dually ambitious and humble and as a result one of the most admirable women I know. (Not to mention fun!)
Here are some thoughts from my first flights:
1. Heavy turbulence is a sufficient reason for a 'soiled pants' check...don't be embarassed, but do check.
2. Always lock the door in an airplane bathroom, "Peety-Pees-His-Pants" will not knock as a measure of courtesy.
3. If you can't figure it out, it's probably written in several languages in explicit detail on some sort of board three feet in front of you.
4. If you still can't figure it out, don't waste 15 minutes eavesdropping on nearby conversations hoping someone else will ask your question- just ask, people are friendly.
5. The Uni-Ball DELUXE Fine pens WILL EXPLODE on an airplane, leaving you in the window seat on a six hour flight with your hands covered in black ink as though you were the mastermind behind some mass roller-ball genocide. Heed my advice, if you own more than one Uni-Ball Deluxe Fine pen and have ignored my first warning (see above), do not open another Uni-Ball Deluxe Fine pen thinking that the first was simply fortuitous. Do not be an idiot. The second pen will also explode.
6. A great strategy for travel is to visit the toilet as often as possible at all opportunities. The universe works in a way that if you make the decision to pass up the bathroom, even if you're not sure you need it, you sign yourself up for definite long lines, a slow border patrol officer, and the one subway line you need will not be running that day.
If, however, you chose to work with the universe and utilize its facilities as often as they are presented, you will be rewarded...with an empty carousel turning with only a single bag (yours) because you chose to use the WC before going for your bag and in turn you are also getting to avoid the ridiculous, but necessary, awkward standing game that inevitably plays out every time you go to retrieve your bag after a flight. You know this game, everyone from the flight is congregated around the carousel but you get this sweet spot right in front, your knees almost touching the cold metal. If you were any closer you would be revolving on the dangerous looking sliding baggage track...then somehow someone sneaks in front of you, and in response you become righteous and enraged, "how dare they! I was here first! can't they see i'm looking for my bag?!" Then, though it seemed you had been as close as you could get, you edge your competitor out of the way and now are physically in a place of discomfort leaning forward nearly having to use the convayor system as a support for your upper body, the cold metal now digging into your shins and your elbows out wide in an effort to claim your space among the other challengers. Then once you see your bag you feel justified in your nearly violent efforts to make it to the front of the crowd, and upon grabbing your handle you bowl over any unaware and less skilled opponents while trying to lift your luggage from the merry-go-round from hell.
My advice: Go to the bathroom. You will avoid the entire spectacle.
I left from New York City and spent four days there with my incredible and adventurous friend Morgan who's just moved to Manhattan to begin her masters in publishing at NYU. She is dually ambitious and humble and as a result one of the most admirable women I know. (Not to mention fun!)
Here are some thoughts from my first flights:
1. Heavy turbulence is a sufficient reason for a 'soiled pants' check...don't be embarassed, but do check.
2. Always lock the door in an airplane bathroom, "Peety-Pees-His-Pants" will not knock as a measure of courtesy.
3. If you can't figure it out, it's probably written in several languages in explicit detail on some sort of board three feet in front of you.
4. If you still can't figure it out, don't waste 15 minutes eavesdropping on nearby conversations hoping someone else will ask your question- just ask, people are friendly.
5. The Uni-Ball DELUXE Fine pens WILL EXPLODE on an airplane, leaving you in the window seat on a six hour flight with your hands covered in black ink as though you were the mastermind behind some mass roller-ball genocide. Heed my advice, if you own more than one Uni-Ball Deluxe Fine pen and have ignored my first warning (see above), do not open another Uni-Ball Deluxe Fine pen thinking that the first was simply fortuitous. Do not be an idiot. The second pen will also explode.
6. A great strategy for travel is to visit the toilet as often as possible at all opportunities. The universe works in a way that if you make the decision to pass up the bathroom, even if you're not sure you need it, you sign yourself up for definite long lines, a slow border patrol officer, and the one subway line you need will not be running that day.
If, however, you chose to work with the universe and utilize its facilities as often as they are presented, you will be rewarded...with an empty carousel turning with only a single bag (yours) because you chose to use the WC before going for your bag and in turn you are also getting to avoid the ridiculous, but necessary, awkward standing game that inevitably plays out every time you go to retrieve your bag after a flight. You know this game, everyone from the flight is congregated around the carousel but you get this sweet spot right in front, your knees almost touching the cold metal. If you were any closer you would be revolving on the dangerous looking sliding baggage track...then somehow someone sneaks in front of you, and in response you become righteous and enraged, "how dare they! I was here first! can't they see i'm looking for my bag?!" Then, though it seemed you had been as close as you could get, you edge your competitor out of the way and now are physically in a place of discomfort leaning forward nearly having to use the convayor system as a support for your upper body, the cold metal now digging into your shins and your elbows out wide in an effort to claim your space among the other challengers. Then once you see your bag you feel justified in your nearly violent efforts to make it to the front of the crowd, and upon grabbing your handle you bowl over any unaware and less skilled opponents while trying to lift your luggage from the merry-go-round from hell.
My advice: Go to the bathroom. You will avoid the entire spectacle.
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