Adventures in Southern India

3 Gents and a Lady?! - Final Reflections

hayjay — Sun, 30 Mar 2008 20:00:00 GMT

Dear Friends and Family,

I just wanted to write some final reflections to wrap up this journal - my "blob" as Nana calls it. Thanks to everyone who read it! It meant so much to me to be able to share my experiences and know that my friends were keeping up! Of course there were many experiences I wasn't able to write about, but I hope I provided a little taste of what it was like. I'm hoping this last entry will sum up some things I thought and learned over this truly life-changing trip.

"Three gents and a lady?!?!" This was the phrase uttered by many an innkeeper as Noah, Kyle, Ryan, and I signed in to our guesthouses. Sometimes it was muttered with a shake of the head as he looked at his books, and sometimes it was said with surprise as Noah and I explained that we are family. (Having the same last name was SO clutch!) Sometimes we were even turned away, and I have a sneaking suspicion that our unorthodox party of 4 may have been the reason at least once.

This trip was sooo different from my last visit to India. We were traveling in a totally different style, and I loved it! Instead of traveling by air conditioned SUV, we took suburban trains and buses - same as the locals. Instead of making reservations at 4 star hotels, we found the seediest guest houses possible (often sharing our abode with several species of insect). "$2.20 each for a room for the night? Unacceptable. We'll pay $1.80." :P (The rupee equivalent of course.) I traded in my large rolling suitcase for a backpack, and my tourist goggles for a real view of India.

I saw India for all of it's beauty and filth. It is truly a land of contradictions. New and modern buildings in a city are often flanked by dilapidated huts left over as they SLOWLY develop. Your eyes can be having a grand old time watching women in gorgeous saris stringing flowers while your nose is dealing with a host of nasty smells. You can be overwhelmed with beauty and totally repulsed at the same time.On your left is a gorgeous mountain or temple, and on your right is someone going to the bathroom on the street. We rarely made travel plans in advance, but when we did we could be sure there would be a strike or some other fluke problem. I saw ads for Rolexes in Chennai and thought, "I haven't seen a single person in 3 days who looks like they'd wear a Rolex." Women's independence, education, and careers are definitely on the rise (they even have a woman president), yet they are still noticably subservient to men, as I found out when I was asked to help serve drinks at Nirmal's house. India gave the world yoga, the Taj Mahal, and Mahatma Gandhi. It is enlightened enough to be home to people of every religon, all living together in remarkable peace. Yet 55% of the population of it's most cosmopolitan city (Bombay) lives in slums, and India is predicted to be the site of the next big AIDS boom. What is causing such rampant misfortune? We pondered this heavily. Could it be remnants of the oppressive caste system (which is not technically recognized anymore but is still felt by many)? Could it be overpopulation due to lack of available birth control or education about it? Could it be the young age of India's modern government, having only gained independence from Great Britian 60 years ago? It is probably a combination of these and many other complex issues.

India's culture is becoming increasingly globalized and Westernized - a fact which disturbs some in the older generation. English is spoken almost everywhere. However, we noticed and respected that they seemed to be able to take what they wanted from Western culture and still preserve their own. India has a cultural heritage so rich and ancient it makes America's relatively young culture look paper-thin. It is so multi-faceted and beautiful. I felt culturally poor compared to them. Yet they envy our wealth and prosperity. I realized that we are such a rich and prosperous country in the eyes of the rest of the world. I know that's like, DUH, but I don't think of it every day and it's different to talk to people who almost all think of you that way, and to see OUR presidential primary on the front page of their newspapers. It's true though. Some of the poorest people in our country have more space and material goods to call their own than many Indians who are not "poor". And the poorest people in India - well that just can't be rivaled. It's no wonder we were begged from and hasseled by touts constantly. They know where the money is! We don't see ourselves as rich, but we honestly are compared to them. I was amazed, however, at how quickly I became desensitized to it. At first seeing all the needy people made my heart hurt, but that feeling came and went, then came again. At times I had to ignore them. They were just too numerous to acknowledge every one.

I've talked in broad terms about India, but I also want to talk about the people. As a traveler and major minority, we thought and talked a lot about the Indians' responses to us and our responses to them, as well as our rights and responsibilities as travelers. People were generally VERY friendly. People passing by would often say hello and ask our names and where we were from, even yelling it when they barely had time: "HELLOSIRYOURNAME?!" Kids and teenagers waved and crowded around us, just for a bit of conversation (the boys invariably giggling and blushing as they shook my hand). They loved us. People on the train would strike up conversations and offer to help us find our way. And unlike my last visit, I found that I was included and spoken to almost as much as the guys. (Last time people seemed only to address my male traveling companion. This time it only happened once and was quite comical, with a man asking all about the 3 guys. When I offered my name and hometown he simply responded, "Okay fine maam.") Anyway, the majority of the people were wonderful, but this was not always the case - and these other instances were thought-provoking.

First were the beggars and touts, who I mentioned earlier. Walking down the street we were often approached, but we could forget about sitting on a bench or on the beach. Sitting on the seaside we were approached at a rate of about 5 people in 10 minutes! Do I have a moral obligation to give because they are so much needier than me and my money goes so far here? Some Indians seem to think so. A couple of times I gave a large sum to a beggar and didn't receive so much as a nod - like it was expected. Another time I was awoken on a train by a bystander who thought I should give to a beggar walking down the aisle. Little did he know I had just given 50 rupees to someone before my nap (the usual donation is 2 or 3). It's like saying, "Because you are white I know you have money in your pocket, and you are obligated to give it to me." I do feel compelled to give, not because I'm "Western" or "rich", but because of compassion for someone in a hard situation. That stranger acted like I shouldn't have an option because of what my skin color means. That is where I draw the line. I think I should have a right to just exist without nonsense like that.

The man on the train brings me to my final thought. Where does the line lie between cultural differences and actual rudeness - intolerance that is both ignorant and universally wrong? How do you deal with that? I started out giving a really wide berth for cultural differences, giving many situations the benefit of the doubt. "Oh, that old lady just whapped the side of my legs to make me move because that's what they do here. That man is just glaring at me because he's not used to seeing people like me." But after awhile I did start to get fed up with rudeness. Cultural or not, it's rude to step on my foot and say nothing, to wake me up on a train like that, or to tell us that we don't belong on a certain train car. My attitude became dismissing. Noah asked why I didn't stand up for myself more. Why didn't I say something to the train guy? The answer was that I chose to talk to people who were nice and accepting and let rudeness roll off my back. If they were that ignorant and set in their ways, I probably couldn't change them by saying something. In fact, it'd probably provoke more gruffness, which I did't want to deal with. But after a stimulating conversation, my perspective changed again. I realized that my point of view was rather hopeless. It's not giving the world and humanity enough credit. It's not standing up for what's right. Intolerance like that is not a cultural thing, it's an individual thing. Like any human being, we should be able to ride any train car or public bus we want. Just because we don't speak Tamil or Malayalam doesn't mean we should be smacked out of someone's way. Letting it roll off my back is not terrible. It's hard and it takes practice to hone your reaction, especially when you are caught off-guard. But perhaps a more constructive way to respond would be to talk to them, ask why they are saying what they are, and explain why you think you do belong there, or let them know you've noticed their rudeness. In this way you can make a positive impact as a traveler, rather than a neutral or negative one. This is probably one of the more important lessons I learned in India, thanks in large part to my traveling companions. Having my mind challenged and opened like that is one of my main reasons for traveling. That, and it's also really freakin fun. :)

Thanks for reading everyone! Sorry if I was too wordy!

My pictures are available online at: http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=2AcuG7Zm0cMnKA&emid=sharshar&linkid=link2

The captions tell a story, so I recommend clicking "View Pictures" then clicking "Slideshow" or "View as a slideshow". For the full effect, click "View fullscreen" and in the upper right hand side changing the settings to "show captions".

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Thanks again! xoxo

First Day Chollywood, Last Day Bollywood!

hayjay — Thu, 20 Mar 2008 11:15:00 GMT

Dear Friends and Family,

I had to add this story after the fact, because it was one of the major highlights of the trip. So, earlier I wrote about how Nirmal took us to AVM studios in Chennai and we took over the stage of an Indian talk show in a wild dancing ruckus, thus becoming stars for a day in Chollywood (Chennai + Hollywood). Well if I thought my 15 minutes of Indian fame was over, I was wrong . . .

While I would bet that few of you are familiar with "Chollywood", most of you have probably heard of "Bollywood". The center of Indian cinema, it is probably the biggest film producer in the world next to Hollywood. Much like Hollywood, it is full of huge stars, glitz and glamour, and cliched love stories, but with more breaking into song and cheesy slo-mo action (and for some odd reason, they LOVE having Westerners as extras). We had heard travelers' tales that if you put yourself in the right part of Bombay (now called Mumbai), you WILL be recruited to be Bollywood extras. Naturally, we had had our hearts set on it.

Ryan had decided to stay in Goa for some extra yoga, so Kyle, Noah and I headed north on the train. As we pulled into Bombay, the last stop on our southern adventures, it was my turn to be hit with the travelers' stomach plague. It seems to happen to everyone eventually, but I thought I was off the hook since I was leaving in a few days. Wrong! So after a couple days of awful diarrhea, nausea, and almost NO food, then an afternoon of wandering around the city with all my belongings on my back, I was ready to pass out when we checked in to our guest house.

The instant I collapsed on the bed, I heard Noah and Kyle talking to an Indian man in the hallway. I stumbled out and saw that it was already happening. The guy was a Bollywood recruiter! A smile came over my green face. I heard him asking if we were interested in being extras. Noah, stifling excitement, tried to play it cool and pretend we were skeptical, asking some sort of practical question. Kyle interrupted him and burst out, "We'll do it!" As the man filled them in on the details, I made my way over to them. I reached for his little book to sign my information, but I was a step behind. "I already signed you up!" Noah said. The man looked at his little book. "Noah Chutz, boy. Haley Chutz, girl. Kyle Buetzow, man." Taking his pencil, he crossed out "man" and wrote "boy". Perfect. We were good to go.

The next afternoon, we stored our bags with the front desk. We told him we had "a very important appointment" at 5:00. "Bollywood?" he asked lazily, like he had seen it 500 times. We nodded sheepishly and headed over to the neighborhood movie theater. There we were loaded onto a bus full of white people (which is a spectacle anywhere in India) and started the 2 hour drive out to "Film City". Kyle and Noah, worried that the food at the studio wouldn't be good, brought their own sambar rice (rice with a vegetable sauce mixed into it). It didn't really work as take out though. They each got a plastic baggie of rice and a baggie of sambar. They poked a hole in the baggie of sambar and tried to empty it into the rice, both ending up with messy faces and hands and a pile of rice under their seats. Ha! They just couldn't wait til we got there. :P As we went around a sharp curve, the guy in the next seat fell onto me. I looked up and realized he was drooling, his bag was spilling over, and he was completely drunk. I asked where he was from and he could hardly spit out that he was Swiss. This is not the last ridiculous moment with my new wasted friend.

When we arrived at the studio around 7pm, we were all put in a small room and handed long white robes with 3/4 length sleeves and a Chinese-looking button collar. We put them on and wandered to the outdoor set to watch the filming. They were making a movie called "Tanman.com", and we spent about 8 hours filming about a 5 minute scene. After a delicious-looking buffet (which I didn't eat), we watched the progress of the filming. I was confused to see two pot-bellied, moustached, wavy-haired old men doing a seductive dance together on a stage surrounded by torches. It turned out they were the choreographers, and they spent hours first subbing in one dancer, then the other, then both. Probably 50 takes of this. Then they added a fake "rock band" pretending to play instruments. Another 50 takes.

In the mean time, I talked to some of the other extras - quite an interesting bunch. There were a lot of semi-"normal" people, but they are not as fun to talk about. There was one really weird Russian guy who told me his name was "Elton John" and started a quite antagonistic and somewhat non-sensical conversation with me, which I walked away from when I realized what a jerk he was. Then, I met an American guy from Philadelphia! He seemed pretty nice, said he had been in India for a couple months. I asked him what he did and he stated flamboyantly, "Oh this is my full time job. There are a few of us. The Russian is another one - AREN'T YOU VASILY?" he addressed the creepy Russian, as if to say "Yeah I know him. This is what we do." They had a weird little "extra" culture, which he spoke of with authority. When he realized that we were not fond of "Vasily", however, he plunged joyfully into gossip without hesitation. I asked where Vasily lived and the American said, "Oh he lives in the woods. After a shoot he just wanders into the woods and wanders out for the next one," - the second time I was taken aback by one of his responses. More whispering and explanations ensued, and all of a sudden a hush fell. The main actress had arrived and you could tell by her and everyone else's demeanor that she was a big star. Though she was a little older, vacuum-packed into jeans and a red turtleneck with fabulous red patten leather boots, and a soccer mom shag, she was still gorgeous. She immediately decided she hated the dance the choreographers had been working on for hours and that she would do it her own way, replacing the carefully-chosen moves with sexily shifting her weight from foot to foot and caressing herself. 50 more takes. Yada, yada, yada . . .

MIRACLE! It's our turn to work! Now keep in mind that we all looked like we just escaped from an insane asylum with these white robes on. The set was moved to a nearby tree with a bench and torches around it. Set men put down their chai and arranged bowls full of water and floating candles along an uneven stone pathway to the tree. A man dressed like some sort of guru with a long beard sat peacefully on the bench and sang the next part of the song. The choreographer arranged all us white crazies around the guru and showed us our move - we sway back and forth with our arms up in the air, moving our hands like lobster claws, singing over and over "Rade Krishna, Rade Krishna". Oh jealousy! Kyle was placed right next to the guru and was given an instrument to pretend to play! After many takes, I ran to catch a glimpse of the screen. Noah and I, placed in the front row but on the edge, had been cut out of the shot! I guess we won't be famous Bollywood stars afterall. Oh well. We'll get to laugh at Kyle when the movie comes out. He got a nice close up, as did my trashed Swiss friend (who shuffled bewilderedly in front of everyone and made up his own dance moves).

For the next shot, we played dumb and placed ourselves squarely in everyone's way. It worked! They chose 5 or so couples from the 70-odd extras to dance a bizarre little waltz. Noah and I were put front and center right in front of the guru! Unfortunately this meant we were on that uneven stone pathway (barefoot) and that there were candles on the ground right by our floor-length robes. It was a bit treacherous, and Noah had to remind me to look at him and not down at the stones and flames, but by the 10th take we were rockin' it! We were for sure in that shot, so we'll have to look for it when "Tanman.com" comes out! We're Bollywood stars! haha. I was also happy because there was a weird ditzy American actress in the film and she said my hair was cute! Go Noah!

Anyway, we finished up around 3am and were bussed back to Mumbai with 500 rupees in our pockets. Since we couldn't find a guest house at that hour without paying an arm and a leg, we knocked on the door of the Salvation Army. They let us sleep in their dining room until morning when space would free up in their dormitory. The next day, I caught my flight out of India! It was definitely an amazing last night of the trip.

p.s. We snuck a few photos of this amazing phenomenon on Kyle's camera. Hopefully we'll be able to share those soon. I also found a newsclip on Tanman.com! http://www.starswelove.com/scriptsphp/news.php?newsid=542

Back on the Train

hayjay — Wed, 27 Feb 2008 23:30:00 GMT

Since we have been on the move so much, transportation has become a major theme in my journal. There are few (if any) modes of transportation as interesting as the trains in India, especially if you take the lowest class. Here's one of my journal entries from that experience . . .

2/15/08

We are sitting on a platform in Madurai, getting ready to board our overnight train to Kollam, Kerala. There is something so exciting about catching an overnight train! We got to walk around the city some, which was cool. This is the city where Gandhi began his homespun fabric campaign. So cool to actually be in the place where that happened!

Friday night - the train station is busy! We took a risk getting unreserved tickets, which means we are not guaranteed seats, much less a place to sleep. Hopefully we can at least find seats! I would gladly have paid 200 more rupees for a guaranteed bunk, but this will be interesting! . . .

Well, here we go! We made it onto an unreserved train car. It was unbelievable! When the train arrived, people swarmed the doors and began grabbing bars and jumping on before it even fully stopped! Families and business men and old folks alike made a human pile 8 thick around each opening. Fathers crammed baggage and children through windows. Feeling the frantic mood, we pushed our way onto a car, finding it of course already full. Ha! Full?! Just wait and see how many more people can cram onto a train car. People are sitting straight up crammed onto hard wooden benches, children on laps or sitting in barred windowsills for the overnight journey. Lucky old men climb onto the wooden top bunks and stretch out on a piece of cloth while 5 women sit on the equally-sized bench below. As the train gets underway, people begin to lay on the bare floor! (I can't help but mention the cockroaches I just saw skitter by - the same digusting creatures that just overtook Noah + my banana bag as their new town square and would crawl by our elbows and feet all night.)

Following others' lead, Kyle and Ryan climbed into the luggage racks - planks of wood about a foot and a half wide and a foot from the ceiling. I will have to post a pic of this soon. So ridiculous, but I happily took my turn napping up there! Noah and I settled into some hard seats below them and noticed that all the inhabitants of the neighboring bench are staring at us. "Hello," Noah said . . . nothing. In fact, I am still being uncomfortably stared at by the old man across the aisle. I suppose any other white travelers are up in the sleeper cars (I saw other bulky backpacks headed that way.) Woo! With an already numb ass - here's to a good night's sleep!

We never took the unreserved overnight again, but it was worth the experience once! Our next train escapade involved sneaking on the A/C car and eating what we thought was free food, until the conductor gave us the boot! Well, time to go! Bye!

Crispy in Goan Paradise

hayjay — Sun, 24 Feb 2008 08:20:00 GMT

Hello!

Well, this blogging thing has turned out to be quite difficult since we are on the move all the time! I wish I could keep this updated as I go, but as Ernest always said when he was at camp or saving the day, "C'est la vie, know whadda mean?"

We arrived in Goa, on the central western coast of India about 4 days ago. Our overnight train from Kochin, Kerala got in around 5 am, so we sat around the station to wait for daylight. It was almost a full mooon, and it glowed so brightly in the sky (especially since the power was out!) As the sky began to lighten behind some palm-covered mountains, we threw on our packs and set out on the 5km walk to the beach.

Some of you may have heard of Goa's reputation. Since the 70s (I think) it has been known as the place to find some of the wildest parties in the world. The beach we selected (because Noah's friend from the states is here) is not exactly party central. It's much more laid back. It would have been interesting to see crazy Goa, but I'm glad we are in a quieter place. It's much more my style. Patnem Beach is definitely the coolest beach I have ever been to. It is a beautiful brown sand crescent flanked on both sides by black rock peninsulas, making a cozy little neighborhood. Palm trees lean over the beach, trying to get the best view of the water. You can see the hills overlapping each other into the distance. Lining the beach, directly on the sand, is a row of thatch huts. These are businesses that serve as restaurants, bars, and they also have huts that you can rent out and sleep in, right on the beach! With names like "Namaste" and "Buddha Bar", they contain cushioned lounge-like seating under the thatch, as well as tables on the beach. At night, it is all lit by candles, twinkle lights, and what I like to call "jellyfish lamps." These are Indian-style cloth lampshades, shaped like little gazebos with dangly cloth legs. They hang in abundance from the ceilings of the restaurants, giving off a soft light and swinging in the breeze. They look just like glowing jellyfish at night. You can lounge in these places as long as you like, enjoying the candle light, lapping waves, and cheap (but weak) cocktails as the smells of incense and marijuana drift past. (Not that I do that!) Life is slow and good.

Couple of notes: This place attracts an interesting bunch of part-time residents, as you can imagine. Mostly from the UK, they come and bum around the beach for half the year (some rarely sober and others barely holding on to their sanity). Also, the only downer is that we are constantly approached on the beach by people trying to sell things or beg. THe other day we were approached 5 times in our first 10 minutes on the beach. This one woman was dragging her children around the beach, the younger one nursing and the older one buck naked and miserable. I don't care how poor you are, you can get a scrap of cloth to clothe your poor child! I think some of them do it on purpose to make themselves look more pathetic. It's sad.

Anyway, we found the cheapest grouping of huts on the beach. Mickey's, the "Oasis of Shade", is all the way on the end - the only establishment blocked off from the beach by and uncontained jungle of tropical plants. But it's clean, it's got a great shower and nice people - for us, we are living like kings! After our overnight train ride and extremely long day on the beach, we went over to the neighboring beach called Palolem. It is a little more happening than our beach. [On a side note:I tried to do something with my hair. It's getting a little longer and starting to rebel into a gravity-defying spike. Instead of trying to keep it flat and rocking the involuntary Alfalfa look, I thought I would embrace it and tried to style it a little. Kate Beckinsale rocked the spike in the 90s and looked totally hot! Mine looks a little more like Steve Martin in "My Blue Heaven". Oh well. What can ya do?] Anyway, we set off for Palolem. It was pretty wild, and overrun with European tourists (mostly English), but a good time. The night flew by with some drinks and interesting conversation and people-watching. One extremely drunk English guy covered in pink glitter latched onto me, trying to impress me with statements like, "I've got cowboy boots and my boss gets me tickets to Wimbledon." Normally I'm at least a little flattered when someone is hitting on me, but I think throughout the rest of the night I saw him flirting and touching other girls, other guys, and perhaps even some furniture he mistook for a person. Needless to say, it was an interesting and fun night.

Early the other morning, I climbed out on one of the black rock peninsulas. I sat right on the edge of the rocks, the Indian Ocean surging up to me, occasionally drenching me as the waves smacked the rocks and flew skyward. I grabbed a little snail and watched it come shyly out of its shell and flip over in my hand (one of my favorite tricks.) I perched out there for probably an hour watching the amazing ocean and thinking. It brought such happiness and peace to me sitting out on those rocks. I can't describe the feeling, but I felt so alive! The world is so beautiful!

One final story (I'm holding the guys up for dinner!). I ran out of sunscreen, so I bought some here. I was a little sketched, but it was Banana Boat spf 30. You'd think it'd be okay, right? Well, I applied it liberally throughout the day. In the afternoon I started to feel a little hot and pink. I got out of the sun once I realized what was happening, but by dinner time, my skin looked the color of raw meat. (Those of you who have beached with me know what I'm talking about.) It's the worst burn I've had in years! I am still radiating heat. At least the Indian girls can't exclaim how white my skin is anymore! I should have known that Indian sunscreen would be shady. Ha!

Well, I've got to run. But I'll say lastly that the sunsets here are like none I've ever seen. They sky does not change color. It stays a hazy bluish gray, but the sun itself becomes a sharply-outlined neon orange ball of fire in front of this grayish sky, getting redder and redder until it fades into the purple haze on the horizon. Incredible.

Much love!!!

Hay

Arg!

hayjay — Mon, 18 Feb 2008 10:15:00 GMT

For anyone occasionally checking my blog and noticing the lack of attention . . .I wrote a great entry last night and as I was about to post it, the webpage disappeared and became something else. My entire story that I had spent an hour or so crafting, was gone. It's so . . . When that happens it's just . . . So, that's uh . . . am I making myself clear?

9 Rupees

hayjay — Wed, 13 Feb 2008 21:00:00 GMT

Hey everyone! It has been awhile since I posted, so I've got a little catching up to do! We have been doing a lot of travel by bus so far. It has turned out to be more convenient than the train for in-state travel. It is cool because it is an exclusively Indian way to travel here! We never see other white people on the buses, and they are often surprised to see us lumber on with our big backpacks. I jotted this story in my journal during one of our many bus rides. I think it sums up what bus travel is like here!

I paid 9 rupees (about 25 cents) and climbed onto a bus with a giant Asian fairy airbrushed on the side. A (supposed) 3 hour ride from Mamallapuram to Tiruvannamalai, with a change-over in Chinglepet. Several more Indians climbed on and crammed into the seats with us (though the rest of the bus was nearly empty) and our floating explosion of color took off into the green South Indian countryside. As we bumped along the ruddy roads, the cheerful Indian music (turned up full blast) was punctuated by even louder horn blasts, announcing our presence to the cows and occasional villagers on the road. The aroma of 2 smoking sticks of incense wafted from the front of the bus. This seemingly mundane public bus has engaged every sense from the get-go!

The scenery outside was amazing - dry brown earth covered by a layer of low brush, giant palm trees shooting up around the greenest fields, women in brightly colored sarees resting in the shade, swampy rice paddies with grazing water buffalo and an occasional striking white goat, villages made of mostly thatch huts with clothing laid out to dry in the sun. We passed an intricate stone temple high up on a hillside. Occasionally we passed through a town where the school children in their little ties and bare feet waved to us.

Then, I tuned into some high-pitched giggling coming from the front corner of the bus. Noah, a huge grin on his face, has made friends with three local men in their plaid button-down shirts and clashing plaid lungis(long skirts). They chit-chatted and laughed, explaining that they are very good friends from childhood and giving Noah their address. All of a sudden, one of them grabbed Noah's head in his two hands and kissed him on the cheek! Another pinched his other cheek between thumb and foreknuckle, the way you pinch a chubby baby. They exited the bus with promises that we will call them if we ever visit whatever town it was again.

Our traveling shrine, complete with rose-patterned wall paper, bunches of fresh flowers, and a fiberglass flashing statue of the elephant god Ganesh, continues on the lonely winding road that seems narrower than the bus itself. This must be the best quarter I've ever spent!

When we stopped in Chinglepet vendors poured onto the bus selling all kinds of fruits, fried snacks, and sweets. "Excuse me, sir, may I have some whooping cough with my grapes?" one of the guys joked as a hacking old man offered us some fruit. We heaved our bags onto our backs and headed for the bus stop to catch our connection. Though at least 5 Indians had confirmed that we were in the right place, our phantom bus never showed up. After much waiting, a police officer flagged down the next bus that passed, stopping it right in the middle of the road, and put us on it. Here's hoping!

It turned out we were on the right bus, and we watched the sunset silouette stunning rock formations and palm trees as we rode on. We stopped in another small town and jumped out for a steamy chai - cheers! Here we are in Gingee! All of a sudden, there was a complete power blackout in the entire town which apparently spanned the countryside, as the rest of the towns we passed through were also blacked out. Business continued by candlelight, though the traffic delayed us even more. Finally, 6 hours after we left, we arrived in the small temple town of Tiruvannamalai. This bus ride surely summed up all the glory and frustration of traveling in India!

A Fitting Beginning

hayjay — Tue, 5 Feb 2008 12:25:00 GMT

February 4th, 2008

Days of journey: 2

Lost bags: 1

Bananas eaten: 12

Indian television appearances: 1

Haircut from Noah on hostel balcony: priceless

Dear family and friends,

As we expected on an adventure like this, some unanticipated things have happened. But you never know what each day in India holds, and that is part of the fun! As Ryan, Noah's childhood friend, arrived here in the Chennai airport, Noah and I set off on foot from the HOINA girls hostel in the village of Thiruninravur (about 40 km from the city.) As we were navigating the suburban train system to get here, we get a call from Ryan. His bag has not arrived, his phone does not work, and he is not able to withdrawl money, and he has been taken to an expensive hotel away from the city . . . India was kicking his ass from the get go! Noah and I found a guest house, stashed our packs, and went on a quest to find him. All we had was a town name and a hotel name. (That seems like a lot of info, but here it is not! Chennai is made up of hundreds of towns with names like Thirumailai and Kodampuram, and using public transportation requires a high degree of cunning since no information is posted anywhere!) After hours of walking, searching, and being pointed in contradicting directions, we finally found him at the Mars Hotel. (ONE OF the Mars Hotels. Of course there are two.) Ryan handled his predicatment like a champ, and we managed to have a great afternoon eating biryani and visiting the busiest Hindu temple in Chennai.

Yesterday turned out to be probably THE craziest day of my life. In the morning we had an unexpected addition to our group. Noah's friend Kyle, who he had been traveling with in Africa, came down from northern India to join us. Our group is complete! After meeting him at the train station, we headed back to the airport to search for Ryan's bag. After another promise that it would be in "tomorrow", we headed back to Chennai. I have to admit, I was bummed to be stuck here. There is not too much to see here (especially compared to where we are planning to go!), and it's a dirty, busy city. But, we have good company and open minds, so it turned out to be an awesome day!

Apparently Chennai is a film capital of India, so we headed over to the film studios. On the bus, we met Nirmal. Nirmal is a 64 year-old ex-actor and insurance rep who has been in 25 Tamil "Kaliwood" films. Nirmal = lots of gold jewelry, gold glasses, fast-walking, and a neon orange reebok t-shirt with matching sneakers. He said he could get us into AVM studios, and he actually made good! Before we knew it we were in the front row of the studio audience of some sort of Indian talk show! Though we don't know Tamil, we hear ourselves referenced by the emcee. Talking . . . talking . . . all of a sudden music begins to blare! Everyone in the audience stands up and begins dancing the "Cobra dance" and beckoning us to join. Limbs are flying, tongues are wagging, hands are "striking", and we are getting really into it! Just as abruptly, the music stops. More talking, a commercial break, talking . . .MUSIC! The dancing begins again and this time we are dragged on stage! Suddenly we are surrounded by beautifully clad Indian women grabbing our hands and dancing with us. I am ushered onto the center rotating platform (in my grungy capris and t-shirt!) to dance with the shows host! Noah begins doing the shoulder shimmy, which they all love and begin doing too! Long and short of it, we'll be on tv Saturday at 9pm! Even though our dancing was a wild free-for-all, probably ruining their program, they loved us!

Afterwards, Nirmal took us back to his house (a gorgeous house in a great neighborhood) where his wife made us coffee (which I had to help serve as the boys stifled laughter). We talked for hours, they showed us their wedding photos and their grandkids' photos, and gave us fruit grown in thier yard. THey were so kind and hospitable! I can't imagine the same scenario happening in the US. People aren't like that! But here almost everyone is so friendly.

I'm running out of time . .. but quickly last but not least, my hair. After 5 days of sticky heat and bucket showers, my hair not rinsing out, feeling like hot straw, and getting who knows what in it on our not-so sanitary beds, I decided to chop it off. So, Noah cut my hair on the balcony of our hostel with 1 inch scissors from his sewing kit, as "YMCA" played on the radio. It is super short (about 1/2 inch). The guys say it looks good, but I absolutely HATE it. I mean, it looks awful. But it is sooo much more comfortable, and hair grows, thank God!

Well, Noah just popped in. (He says hi, family!) Success! Ryan got his bag, so we are leaving Chennai at last! I've gotta run, but I miss and love you all! Please make sure Nana sees this! Thanks!

Happy Long Life to You

hayjay — Mon, 4 Feb 2008 21:55:00 GMT

Dear friends and family,

I decided that, instead of writing emails, I would use this travel journal website. That way you can follow my travel map and maybe see some pictures, if you are interested! Feel free to comment too or email! I'd love to get communication!

The first 6 days of my journey have been amazing. I took off on January 28th for the first leg of my trip around the world - Pittsburgh to Newark! (On the way home at the end of the month, I will fly through Korea to Hawaii, so I'll end up circling the globe!) I was greeted by the friendly faces of Sam and Prasad, HOINA staff, at the aiport and taken to the HOINA home for girls. It seems there was some miscommunication over the phone. Sam had trouble hearing my name and I was greeted by a sign that said "HOINA Welcomes Rozlin Vinci". Rozlin Vinci - Haley Chutz - so close! Haha. It was the first of many hilarious miscommunications on this trip.

Coming back to the girls' home was such a joy. Many of the girls remembered me from my visit 2.5 years ago, and they were thrilled to see me. They are so affectionate, I had at least 3 on each arm the whole time. I have this Rainman-like talent of remembering kids' names, and i remembered probably 2/3 of them, which made them really happy. They're hard names too! Nanditha, Chandrakala, Dhanalakshmi . . . I was able to lead their evening chapel, help with science studies, and do lots of gift-wrapping for their upcoming leap year celebration. They are such, beautiful, talented, and sweet girls. It was wonderful to be able to spend time with Parveen, the 5 year old girl I sponsor. She has to be the cutest little girl ever! It was awesome to get to see her life there and be a part of it for a little bit.

I also loved spending time with Darlene "Mom" Large, the woman who founded HOINA. She is totally my hero, and has shown me what one person has the power to do. Hearing her stories and seeing her work first hand has changed my life. I'm a little nervous around her and her mood can be difficult to read, but the impact of her work here can be summarized by the picture on the office wall of her with Mother Theresa (a personal friend). She's got 2 homes in India serving about 200-250 children. They are well-fed, well-clothed, loved, their home is full of cheer (colorful tile mosaics fill almost every wall), AND she pays for their college educations so they will never have to face poverty again. The impact of HOINA was brought into sharp focust today in the city when I saw small children sitting in a pile of dirt, ashes, and garbage on the side of the road playing with scraps of metal.

Noah got to come and meet me at HOINA on Feb. 1st! The second hilarious miscommunication. The office staff was eager to make arrangements to pick him up at the train station, so we were trying to call his cell phone. Half the time it said his number didn't exist, and half the time it rang but was never picked up. Sam kept saying, "Try again . . .Okay one more time. Please once again." I must have called him 50 times in 2 days. Reaching a state of high anxiety, they suggested I "Call his Daddy to check number." They were not put off by the fact that it was 2am in the states. Who could I call at 2 am to appease them? Aunt Tina of course! I called her, she called Uncle Tim, then she called Noah to see what was going on. It turned out he had been screening my phone calls the entire time, thinking I was his students from Delhi! Well, after Tina told him it was me calling, he answered his phone and were were able to arrange a ride for him. It was so cool to finally see him at HOINA! The girls loved him too and he was great with them. They call him Anna (brother) and me Akka (sister). As we sat in the guest house catching up and talking about our family, it hit me that we were sitting together in a village in India! After talking about traveling together for a couple of years, and not spending significant time together for probably 8 years, we were finally there. We are doing lots of laughing and talking, and can't wait to get started on the travels!

I love you all and miss you! Thanks for stickin' with the reading - I know it was long!

p.s. "Happy Long Life to You" is the third verse of the birthday song, as sung by the HOINA girls.