I have a lot of things I want/need to blog about. But currently there is something I want to say. I realize that pretty much every blog I've posted about India so far has been negative. I would say this is a pretty accurate portrayal of my time here so far. I haven't even begun to describe the last five weeks here, most of which has been pretty awful. I have had good days, and travelling here is wonderful, India is a beautiful country outside of big cities.
But the truth is most of my days are hard and frustrating. Most of the people around me aren't supportive, my Indian contacts lie to me repeatedly and get angry when I ask for anything different. I am treated like filth by many of the people I work with because I'm a girl, and I won't repeat the comments I get every day walking down the street. And this is from people who've seen white people regularly on these streets for the last 7 years.
Today, hit another all time low. I was walking to the hospital, when two little boys came up to me saying Namaste Didi, didi didi, which is sort of like hello sister, hey sister, cousin, older woman I don't actually know. I shook their hands as they always want me to do, and then they began asking for money. Most children in India do this, regardless of their economic status because they think it's fun. Or so I've been told, and these children happen to live in a large house down the street from me. I said no, nahi not gonna happen. So they pulled at me and I just kept walking. Then they threw rocks at me. I've had this happen to me before, but usually they are halfhearted throws, and have never actually hit me. These little boys pummelled me. I mean they got my back, my head. It was painful. I immediately broke down crying and walked back home, using conversation with they boy as solace.
This describes the frustration and fear I go through at least once a day here. This is the first truly violent occassion, but that doesn't mean I haven't experienced just as much disrespect in other ways. Am I doing something wrong? Am I not giving India a chance, am I an ignorant white girl who is just too negative? Should I apologize for my portrayal of this country?
I've decided, NO absolutely not. I've come here for an experience, and recieved misery. None of this is a result of my actions, except in the actual decision to come here. There are things I like about India, but they are grand concepts, ideas of the culture, and very few things have happened in my daily life which are in the least bit positive or happy. Every morning I wake up thinking this day will be better, I'll be a little less shocked by poor treatment and I'll be able to focus on trying to help a little more. Every day something even worse seems to happen, something more harrowing, and now I get physically hurt? I could say it's just the neighborhood I'm in, not India as a culture. But while there are grand concepts of culture I like, there are also many I don't like, and it is these aspects which are the root cause of the events which lead to my daily hell. Today's is of course, the fact that people do not discipline children in India. I have yet to see a mother punish a child in any way for bad behavior, even a simple bad boy. And I work in a pediatric hospital, I feel I have seen lots of mothers and children. This is a cultural root, one which has gotten me a nice lump on my head, and I will not apologize for loathing it, hating it, and generally being pissed off and fed up with it. In a few days to come you will see me post happy things about travelling and interesting conversations with surprisingly nice people. But for the most part you will read about an unhappy, fearful existence because that is my reality, chosen, but absolutley not imagined.
Friday, October 17
Thursday, October 16
Vodafone
So, I now have an India phone. Getting it was, of course, an adventure. The four of us went to get our phones together. Luckily, 5 minutes away at the market is a mobilestore. So, I chose the cheapest phone they had, nokia of course, which was about 35 dollars. Then we had to choose a sim card for our phone number and pay-as-you-go plan. The denmark girls just switched out the sim cards on their current phones.
We walked into the store, and there were at least 6 employees sitting at the desks, in a very, very small store. But for some reason, only one person could help us. This meant the process took about 2 hours. Before this though, we were told they needed our passports. On top of this, they needed passport photos for their files. Which meant we had to get the pictures taken. And wait half an hour until they were processed. By this time we'd been home twice to get passports and money, and wandered around the small market for an hour while waiting for the pictures to be processed. Why they needed pics I'll never know. Getting a mobile phone is as bad as going to the airport.
We then had to wait the 2 hours while they filled out forms and called numbers. Again, 6 people sitting doing nothing, only 1 man would help. We asked if another person could take care of another girl, since they all spoke the same amount of english. The answer was no. If Indian clients came in, they helped them. But they would only help one of them at a time as well. It was frustrating and crazy. And scattered, Steena went first and her phone ended up being activated last because EVERYTHING in India is chaotic and unorganized. So 5 hours after leaving to get phones, we returned home, not exactly triumphant, but with phones. Oh the disorganization.
We walked into the store, and there were at least 6 employees sitting at the desks, in a very, very small store. But for some reason, only one person could help us. This meant the process took about 2 hours. Before this though, we were told they needed our passports. On top of this, they needed passport photos for their files. Which meant we had to get the pictures taken. And wait half an hour until they were processed. By this time we'd been home twice to get passports and money, and wandered around the small market for an hour while waiting for the pictures to be processed. Why they needed pics I'll never know. Getting a mobile phone is as bad as going to the airport.
We then had to wait the 2 hours while they filled out forms and called numbers. Again, 6 people sitting doing nothing, only 1 man would help. We asked if another person could take care of another girl, since they all spoke the same amount of english. The answer was no. If Indian clients came in, they helped them. But they would only help one of them at a time as well. It was frustrating and crazy. And scattered, Steena went first and her phone ended up being activated last because EVERYTHING in India is chaotic and unorganized. So 5 hours after leaving to get phones, we returned home, not exactly triumphant, but with phones. Oh the disorganization.
Hindi Lessons
So, for about 4 days this week we had basic hindi lessons. I have to say I was disappointed by how little we learned. We learned a number of words, but we really only worked for maybe 2-3 hours a day, which consisted of Rajan writing words on the board and us repeating them after him. We learned only very basic sentence construction, and I felt I learned much more in my first week of spanish class than of Hindi. And Hindi grammatical structure is very easy to learn. It is simply subject object verb, rather than subject verb object like in english. But there are no articles like in spanish, which of course makes the romance languages so hard for someone based in a germanic language to learn. The pronunciation is very difficult, since the sounds are so different from english. The r is slightly rolled as in spanish, but the d's and t's are very different. I wish I could attach a video of me trying to say hindi words, but alas that will have to wait until I again have a computer with video. Anyhow, sukriya for reading my blog, and namaste!
My First Week's Digs
So, for the first week I'm staying at an apartment in Gurgaon, an expensive suburb outside of Delhi. This first week is meant to be a cultural immersion week, with some sightseeing and language courses to help us adjust to life in India a little more smoothly.
The apartment is small, with two bedrooms with 3 beds each. Most surprising are there are western style toilets, though there are strange open type showers (hard to describe) and sadly enough no hot water anywhere.
There are three other girls here, Steen and Ditte, both from Denmark, and another Jessica from Montanna. They are all very nice, and sarcastic which of course means we get along splendidly. I have to admit when I first got here I broke down crying from the stress of travelling and the lack of sleep. While you can always prepare yourself for culture shock, it becomes much more real in a truly third world country, of which I will talk much, much more about later. For now let's say I feel fine about where I'm staying, even if the markets here are difficult to traverse and everything is overcrowded and oversmushed. I know it'll be all right.
The apartment is small, with two bedrooms with 3 beds each. Most surprising are there are western style toilets, though there are strange open type showers (hard to describe) and sadly enough no hot water anywhere.
There are three other girls here, Steen and Ditte, both from Denmark, and another Jessica from Montanna. They are all very nice, and sarcastic which of course means we get along splendidly. I have to admit when I first got here I broke down crying from the stress of travelling and the lack of sleep. While you can always prepare yourself for culture shock, it becomes much more real in a truly third world country, of which I will talk much, much more about later. For now let's say I feel fine about where I'm staying, even if the markets here are difficult to traverse and everything is overcrowded and oversmushed. I know it'll be all right.
Thursday, October 2
First Impressions
Ok, ok, so I said earlier I simply couldn't be prepared for India. This is about my first impressions simply at the airport and on my ride from the airport.
First of all, the airport sucks, it's small, doesn't have an ATM, and doesn't sell cute little souveneirs. I checked. Secondly, India is HOT. GARAM. I mean it is beyond belief. I've been to Jamaica and the Bahamas in the height of heat, and it simply does not begin to compare. I have a theory about this. Obviously the humidity has something to do with it. It is so humid the air forms a little bubble of extra heat around you. But even worse, the dirt, of which there is a lot, gets stirred up,and held in the humid air, only helping the bubble of said heat bake you like a thanksgiving turkey (which I'm going to miss by the way).
The next thing I noticed was how dirty it is. I mean, dirty, Like dirt and earth and filth everywhere. most of the roads are dirt, if they aren't dirt they're gravel, and if they're paved they have dirt all over them from the side of road. All of India seems to be a big dumpster, so you see trash everywhere, and I mean EVERYWHERE. On top of that there are people everywhere, walking, sleeping, usually on trash, making more trash, begging, shopping, with women carrying huge bags of reeds on their heads in the middle of Delhi.
Delhi is a huge city, like any other capital, but it simply is not metropolitan. People have been complaining about how it's so modern now. It's not. These complainers are crazy. It's dirty and most of it is half built and abandoned. The driving is completely indescribable. It is so crowded on the roads, and there are no lanes, or turn signals. People honk because nobody has side view mirrors. Which makes it unbearably loud, and people are always almost sideswiping because the definition of India is selfish, and people move and expect the waters to part. It is absolutely ridiculous. And imagine the worst most potholed road you've ever driven on. Lacy, I'm thinking of New Orleans right now. Multiply that my 20. That's the roads here. It's insane. I'd like to go on, but there are other blogs to post so, namaste.
First of all, the airport sucks, it's small, doesn't have an ATM, and doesn't sell cute little souveneirs. I checked. Secondly, India is HOT. GARAM. I mean it is beyond belief. I've been to Jamaica and the Bahamas in the height of heat, and it simply does not begin to compare. I have a theory about this. Obviously the humidity has something to do with it. It is so humid the air forms a little bubble of extra heat around you. But even worse, the dirt, of which there is a lot, gets stirred up,and held in the humid air, only helping the bubble of said heat bake you like a thanksgiving turkey (which I'm going to miss by the way).
The next thing I noticed was how dirty it is. I mean, dirty, Like dirt and earth and filth everywhere. most of the roads are dirt, if they aren't dirt they're gravel, and if they're paved they have dirt all over them from the side of road. All of India seems to be a big dumpster, so you see trash everywhere, and I mean EVERYWHERE. On top of that there are people everywhere, walking, sleeping, usually on trash, making more trash, begging, shopping, with women carrying huge bags of reeds on their heads in the middle of Delhi.
Delhi is a huge city, like any other capital, but it simply is not metropolitan. People have been complaining about how it's so modern now. It's not. These complainers are crazy. It's dirty and most of it is half built and abandoned. The driving is completely indescribable. It is so crowded on the roads, and there are no lanes, or turn signals. People honk because nobody has side view mirrors. Which makes it unbearably loud, and people are always almost sideswiping because the definition of India is selfish, and people move and expect the waters to part. It is absolutely ridiculous. And imagine the worst most potholed road you've ever driven on. Lacy, I'm thinking of New Orleans right now. Multiply that my 20. That's the roads here. It's insane. I'd like to go on, but there are other blogs to post so, namaste.
India Customs
There is something I don't understand. When people go through customs, I would expect at least one person there to be able to understand completely fluently the language from which each flight originates, and always to understand enlgish. This is not because I'm a stupid American, this is because when all else fails, most people speak a little english, especially coming to a place like India where english words are known by all, and is the chosen language of the elite and of business.
This is not the case. Everyone barely speaks english, and it makes for problems. As everyone knows, my passport was stolen in Chile. I had to get a replacement, but due to the amount of time it would take for a normal one, I had to get an emergency passport, which works exactly like a regular passport, but is of a little less quality so they can make it faster, and it's only valid for one year. BUT I WAS TOLD I COULD USE IT LIKE A NORMAL PASSPORT FOR ONE YEAR. I asked, I made sure, because I didn't want problems in India.
Long story short I spent 1 hour in a room in customs with people saying, what happened to your passport? and me telling them, but them not actually listening to a single word I said. Of course they confirmed me with the embassy, and then decided that they would let me in the country, but to get out I have to get a new, regular passport. Which is awesome. I love it that India doesn't know how to handle an emergency passport. Again, this is all just foreshadowing. We'll get to the good stuff later.
This is not the case. Everyone barely speaks english, and it makes for problems. As everyone knows, my passport was stolen in Chile. I had to get a replacement, but due to the amount of time it would take for a normal one, I had to get an emergency passport, which works exactly like a regular passport, but is of a little less quality so they can make it faster, and it's only valid for one year. BUT I WAS TOLD I COULD USE IT LIKE A NORMAL PASSPORT FOR ONE YEAR. I asked, I made sure, because I didn't want problems in India.
Long story short I spent 1 hour in a room in customs with people saying, what happened to your passport? and me telling them, but them not actually listening to a single word I said. Of course they confirmed me with the embassy, and then decided that they would let me in the country, but to get out I have to get a new, regular passport. Which is awesome. I love it that India doesn't know how to handle an emergency passport. Again, this is all just foreshadowing. We'll get to the good stuff later.
The Flight across the Ocean
Ok, so how do I talk about my flight from hell? Well, let's start with the fact that it was delayed a day because they overbooked my flight. It happens. Then I had my long overnight flight to London Heathrow. I didn't sleep a wink. I tend to not sleep on planes, and mine was pretty full, so this was no exception. It was sort of annoying, but not too long.
However, I have yet to mention that I was sick. Like, terribly ill with a really bad sinus infection. I was on my 5th week of sickness from chile, told by my doctor it was the remnants of bronchitis turned to infection, and I was on a z-pack, after antibiotics. So, you can imagine how badly my head and ears hurt the whole time. But the landing made it even more fun. On the way down, my head was so packed it was impossible to equalize my ears to the pressure. I am one of those fortunate souls who can easily hold my nose and blow to get the pressure right, a trick my dad taught me, but when your head is full of bright, lime green snot the pressure is impossible to build up and you can't get your ears to get to normal. So I arrived at London, unable to hear through one ear, having it be painfully and very palpably packed with pressure. I had a 12 hour layover.
The annoying thing about international flight is that the gate never opens until 3 hours before, so when I got to london, I wanted to go site see, but I didn't feel comfortable leaving when I had no idea how to get back to my terminal, or how the connecting check in process worked once I left. Heathrow is an incredibly uncomfortable airport, with wood benches only, and three coveted couches. One of which I eventually commandeered and managed to sleep on for 3 hours. I couldn't buy anything to eat because I had no pounds, and my credit card was only approved for India. Sadness.
When I finally reached the time I could get on the plane, I was of course not surprised to find myself on a plane full of India people in traditional clothes with lots of babies. I got to my seat and...SCORE I had three seats to myself. I was set. After dinner I was setting myself up to lay out and go to sleep, when some guy sits down in the outer seat. And i was like, what? it wasn't his seat, he was just wanting to use it. He then proceeded to befriend me, but he didn't speak english. He kept putting blankets on me, and it was sweltering in the plane, so I kept taking them off. He even tried following me through customs. So I once again did not get any sleep. I did however, manage to get my ear to a more comfortable level of pressure by the time we landed. My next post will be about customs, a whole other story, but this of course, should foreshadow my life in India pretty well.
However, I have yet to mention that I was sick. Like, terribly ill with a really bad sinus infection. I was on my 5th week of sickness from chile, told by my doctor it was the remnants of bronchitis turned to infection, and I was on a z-pack, after antibiotics. So, you can imagine how badly my head and ears hurt the whole time. But the landing made it even more fun. On the way down, my head was so packed it was impossible to equalize my ears to the pressure. I am one of those fortunate souls who can easily hold my nose and blow to get the pressure right, a trick my dad taught me, but when your head is full of bright, lime green snot the pressure is impossible to build up and you can't get your ears to get to normal. So I arrived at London, unable to hear through one ear, having it be painfully and very palpably packed with pressure. I had a 12 hour layover.
The annoying thing about international flight is that the gate never opens until 3 hours before, so when I got to london, I wanted to go site see, but I didn't feel comfortable leaving when I had no idea how to get back to my terminal, or how the connecting check in process worked once I left. Heathrow is an incredibly uncomfortable airport, with wood benches only, and three coveted couches. One of which I eventually commandeered and managed to sleep on for 3 hours. I couldn't buy anything to eat because I had no pounds, and my credit card was only approved for India. Sadness.
When I finally reached the time I could get on the plane, I was of course not surprised to find myself on a plane full of India people in traditional clothes with lots of babies. I got to my seat and...SCORE I had three seats to myself. I was set. After dinner I was setting myself up to lay out and go to sleep, when some guy sits down in the outer seat. And i was like, what? it wasn't his seat, he was just wanting to use it. He then proceeded to befriend me, but he didn't speak english. He kept putting blankets on me, and it was sweltering in the plane, so I kept taking them off. He even tried following me through customs. So I once again did not get any sleep. I did however, manage to get my ear to a more comfortable level of pressure by the time we landed. My next post will be about customs, a whole other story, but this of course, should foreshadow my life in India pretty well.
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