I have never been more frustrated by a language barrier in my life. *Gritting teeth and growling*
Okay, now to start from the beginning. Puthumai and I went to meeting in Jalpiguri for a coalition of groups working on Community Based Disaster Preparedness (CBDP) projects. 12 hours round trip in the car and 24 hours in Jalpiguri. The meeting was all district coordinators running CBDP programs in different places around W. Bengal. The purpose of the meeting was to share progress and collaborate on a plan for the final year of the project. It felt like attending a class that I hadn’t read the text for. Oh yea, and the class wasn’t in English. It was also 8 hours long. I am not complaining, please don’t misunderstand my frustration as whining. I continuously kept repeating to myself, a positive outlook is key, a positive outlook is key. But regardless of my positivity I was frustrated with my own limitation, with my own inability to understand.
You see, I am an intelligent person. I know that sounds pompous, and that isn’t my intention. It is just that I have always able to contribute something in intellectual environments, or if I am not able to contribute, I am at least able to ask appropriate questions. As I sat through the meeting I understood just enough of what was being said to have no idea what was going on. There were a few people who very kindly translated for me, but the problem was they were participants in the meeting and they were more interested in what was being said than in translating it for me. I also feel as though translating is highly ineffective. I have the sneaking suspicion that 80 percent of what is said is actually lost in translation. For example, if the speaker says “There was a horrendous downpour and the villages were not able to coup with the level of rainwater,” the translated version is “He is talking about floods.” The meanings may be similar, but after 3 or 4 hours I didn’t want to hear similar meanings I wanted to hear what was actually being said.
The PowerPoints were in English, and that was helpful. That was probably the one (attention) saving grace of the weekend. Although the PowerPoints contained so many abbreviations that even as I was able to begin to formulate more complex thoughts about what was happening, I would hit a roadblock because I didn’t understand an abbreviation. By the time we left my jaw was sore from grinding my teeth in frustration.
But as we drove away I began to let go of the frustration. There is only so much that I will be able to understand here, and accepting limitations is humbling (that’s why it is so difficult). Frustration in and of itself is draining. It isn’t productive. As we drove into the night, I left my frustration in Jalpiguri and returned to Raiganj.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
2/11
I spoke with M&D today for the first time in a week. It was great to see their faces and update them on all that has happened in the past few days. Even though I am not homesick, it is still nice to see them in the morning and tell them about the previous day. This way, when I come home it won’t be overwhelming to share my experience with them. I won’t feel as though I have changed and they are unable to understand the changes.
Today after class, Puthumai spent a few hours teaching Hannah and me about SWI as an organization. We learned about the steps involved in creating, implementing and reporting on a project. We also learned about the organizational structure (staffing, finance, etc) and the polices that regulate Indian non-profits. It was really interesting and informative. We also had Puthumai’s undivided attention for almost a complete 2 hours; he only answered his phone once! Which means that Hannah and I must be really important! ☺
I still wasn’t hungry today, I ate only a small portion of rice for lunch and a banana. Even though I have not been hungry, I don’t think I am sick. I just think that my body has had enough of rice and vegetables with spices, so it is going on protest. Unfortunately my body will soon learn that its feeble protests are no match for the unwavering insistence from many Indians that I eat more food.
After lunch Hannah and I went to the beauty parlor and had Mehndi done, or henna. We both have it on our left hands, and it took from 1 o’clock, until 4 o’clock! We had a lot of fun in the beauty parlor though, the women were all dressed in black pants and lime green t-shirts. At first it was a little strange sitting in a room full of Indian women dressed in Western clothes, when I am a Westerner dressed in Indian clothes. Even though the women didn’t speak English, we had fun joking around with them. They took quite a few pictures of us and Hannah and I joked that next week the photos will be large blown up advertisements for the beauty parlor. ☺ After returning home, we scraped off the dried Mehndi, a more difficult task than previously anticipated. Everyone who walked by commented on it and said we looked very nice.
It is Recollection tonight, which means that all of the Fathers go away. They leave at 7:30 in the evening and usually arrive back late the next morning. So we had dinner early. Hannah and I bought sausages in Calcutta (from a questionable sanitary sausage shop) and we wanted to cook them for dinner. We decided that with the Indian cooking methods available to us, that deep-frying them would be the best idea. Our first problem was deciding which container held the oil. We found one that looked like oil, but the bottle was not labeled so we were not certain. After requesting Puthumai’s assistance, we were on the right track to cooking our sausages. We lit the burner, which was also as adventure. Hannah lit it, and I hid behind a wall. Neither of us were certain whether or not the gas was on or not, we were both yelping and jumping around. Luckily the burner lit with no problem and our oil heated quickly. We plopped the sausages into the hot oil, at which point one of the cooks was in the kitchen, he laughed at us. Which happens often in India, but over time you learn to appreciate it. Someone can’t laugh at you, if you are laughing too, because then they are always laughing with you. While we were cooking sausages one of the staff members came into the kitchen to tell Hannah about her visit to the village in the next few days. He asked what we were cooking, and Hannah answered meat, while I answered chicken. Then ensued a large misunderstanding about what is meat and what is chicken. Puthumai later clarified this misunderstanding for us, saying that in villages, where meat is scarce, usually only mutton is referred to as meat. But needless to say, before the clarification, Hannah and I were having a hell of a time trying to explain ourselves. We both think that Mehndi has an side-effect of making everything especially funny, we have been laughing our asses off all afternoon. I had another discovery about English language misunderstandings today, Hannah asked me the other day for a word to describe the current condition of her hands. I told her clammy was the correct word. I realized today that she meant sticky and not clammy. The funny part is that for three or four days she has been using clammy as a way to describe her hands, when she really meant sticky. I have decided that this is quite a power to be able to control her understanding of English. A power I could use for good, or a power I could use for evil ☺
This evening I watched a program on TV about N. Eastern India and the militant groups and drug abuse there. India is such a large country and there are still so many parts of the country that I know nothing about. Even in Raiganj there are so many things I have yet to learn.
Then Puthumai came back from recollection, he read my blogs in front of me, which I hate; because it is so uncomfortable to have him read my thoughts while I am in the room. He knows that it bothers me, and probably does it because it bothers me. ☺ After he read my reflections on Calcutta, we had a discussion about poverty. He is helping me to understand the varying levels and kinds of poverty. The poverty in Calcutta is a visual poverty, you can see it very clearly; but the people in Calcutta are able to find work, they are able to survive. In the villages many people suffer silently, as they die from starvation and lack of other basic necessities. There is no survival there. In Calcutta, even though I know that the poverty is to a certain extent ‘decorative’ it is difficult to connect these logical thoughts with the gut reaction to the images I was seeing. In the villages I have experienced overwhelming generosity, and it is difficult for me to grasp the reality of such life threatening poverty. But that is the beauty of the village people; they have such generosity even though they literally have nothing. I know that there is a lot more understanding to come, as my time in Raiganj continues.
Today after class, Puthumai spent a few hours teaching Hannah and me about SWI as an organization. We learned about the steps involved in creating, implementing and reporting on a project. We also learned about the organizational structure (staffing, finance, etc) and the polices that regulate Indian non-profits. It was really interesting and informative. We also had Puthumai’s undivided attention for almost a complete 2 hours; he only answered his phone once! Which means that Hannah and I must be really important! ☺
I still wasn’t hungry today, I ate only a small portion of rice for lunch and a banana. Even though I have not been hungry, I don’t think I am sick. I just think that my body has had enough of rice and vegetables with spices, so it is going on protest. Unfortunately my body will soon learn that its feeble protests are no match for the unwavering insistence from many Indians that I eat more food.
After lunch Hannah and I went to the beauty parlor and had Mehndi done, or henna. We both have it on our left hands, and it took from 1 o’clock, until 4 o’clock! We had a lot of fun in the beauty parlor though, the women were all dressed in black pants and lime green t-shirts. At first it was a little strange sitting in a room full of Indian women dressed in Western clothes, when I am a Westerner dressed in Indian clothes. Even though the women didn’t speak English, we had fun joking around with them. They took quite a few pictures of us and Hannah and I joked that next week the photos will be large blown up advertisements for the beauty parlor. ☺ After returning home, we scraped off the dried Mehndi, a more difficult task than previously anticipated. Everyone who walked by commented on it and said we looked very nice.
It is Recollection tonight, which means that all of the Fathers go away. They leave at 7:30 in the evening and usually arrive back late the next morning. So we had dinner early. Hannah and I bought sausages in Calcutta (from a questionable sanitary sausage shop) and we wanted to cook them for dinner. We decided that with the Indian cooking methods available to us, that deep-frying them would be the best idea. Our first problem was deciding which container held the oil. We found one that looked like oil, but the bottle was not labeled so we were not certain. After requesting Puthumai’s assistance, we were on the right track to cooking our sausages. We lit the burner, which was also as adventure. Hannah lit it, and I hid behind a wall. Neither of us were certain whether or not the gas was on or not, we were both yelping and jumping around. Luckily the burner lit with no problem and our oil heated quickly. We plopped the sausages into the hot oil, at which point one of the cooks was in the kitchen, he laughed at us. Which happens often in India, but over time you learn to appreciate it. Someone can’t laugh at you, if you are laughing too, because then they are always laughing with you. While we were cooking sausages one of the staff members came into the kitchen to tell Hannah about her visit to the village in the next few days. He asked what we were cooking, and Hannah answered meat, while I answered chicken. Then ensued a large misunderstanding about what is meat and what is chicken. Puthumai later clarified this misunderstanding for us, saying that in villages, where meat is scarce, usually only mutton is referred to as meat. But needless to say, before the clarification, Hannah and I were having a hell of a time trying to explain ourselves. We both think that Mehndi has an side-effect of making everything especially funny, we have been laughing our asses off all afternoon. I had another discovery about English language misunderstandings today, Hannah asked me the other day for a word to describe the current condition of her hands. I told her clammy was the correct word. I realized today that she meant sticky and not clammy. The funny part is that for three or four days she has been using clammy as a way to describe her hands, when she really meant sticky. I have decided that this is quite a power to be able to control her understanding of English. A power I could use for good, or a power I could use for evil ☺
This evening I watched a program on TV about N. Eastern India and the militant groups and drug abuse there. India is such a large country and there are still so many parts of the country that I know nothing about. Even in Raiganj there are so many things I have yet to learn.
Then Puthumai came back from recollection, he read my blogs in front of me, which I hate; because it is so uncomfortable to have him read my thoughts while I am in the room. He knows that it bothers me, and probably does it because it bothers me. ☺ After he read my reflections on Calcutta, we had a discussion about poverty. He is helping me to understand the varying levels and kinds of poverty. The poverty in Calcutta is a visual poverty, you can see it very clearly; but the people in Calcutta are able to find work, they are able to survive. In the villages many people suffer silently, as they die from starvation and lack of other basic necessities. There is no survival there. In Calcutta, even though I know that the poverty is to a certain extent ‘decorative’ it is difficult to connect these logical thoughts with the gut reaction to the images I was seeing. In the villages I have experienced overwhelming generosity, and it is difficult for me to grasp the reality of such life threatening poverty. But that is the beauty of the village people; they have such generosity even though they literally have nothing. I know that there is a lot more understanding to come, as my time in Raiganj continues.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
2/10
Puthumai brought blankets from Seva Kendra for Hannah and myself. We were very thankful and warm on the train ride home. Although 8 hours of sleep on a train feels as though it only counts for 4 hours. We arrived in Raiganj on time, 6:45am, everyone was amazed at the trains promptness. We took an auto to SWI and after a quick shower and breakfast I was in front of my class. I had the class read a newspaper article today and summarize it for me, which was challenging for the students, but it seemed useful. After class, I was exhausted and Hannah and I took a nap in my bed. We woke up in time for lunch and then decided to run a few errands. We are going to get Mendi tomorrow, so we made an appointment, and then we picked up my new clothes from the tailor. Hannah needed sandals, and after about 15 stores we finally found a pair that fit her size 9/10 feet. Indian women have small feet, so most of the sizes are 4, 5 and 6. In the afternoon we went to Chonditola and had fun playing with the kids.
Puthumai left again today, he is visiting a friend who runs an old persons home about 3 hours away from here. He took a bus there and will leave tomorrow at 5am to arrive back here at 8am. I can’t understand how Puthumai can travel that much and not be utterly exhausted! But he keeps on going strong.
I didn’t eat dinner for the past two nights, and I took a very small lunch today. My stomach just isn’t hungry. Sometimes I feel for a few minutes like I am sick to my stomach, and I have been tired all day. Hopefully it isn’t anything much and will pass after a good nights sleep. I have been coughing quite a bit though, which is unfortuanate. I have worked really hard to cut dairy out of my diet again, and I am doing well at saying no to milk. Which is difficult because milk is considered a luxury here, and man hosts go out of their way to serve it to you. Refusing food in Indian is rude. Even without milk, I have still been coughing, I think it is the pollution and dust in Indian air. It isn’t painful and no where near as bad as last year, but I am keeping an eye on it and taking my inhaler when necessary.
Mom and Dad your package still hasn’t arrived. The Indian Post Office is holding hostage, until they feel they have had sufficient time to rifle though all of my things. I asked Puthumai today if we could go and demand they give us the package. He said no, which is unfortunate. I guess I will just have to keep waiting ☺ Sending my love.
Puthumai left again today, he is visiting a friend who runs an old persons home about 3 hours away from here. He took a bus there and will leave tomorrow at 5am to arrive back here at 8am. I can’t understand how Puthumai can travel that much and not be utterly exhausted! But he keeps on going strong.
I didn’t eat dinner for the past two nights, and I took a very small lunch today. My stomach just isn’t hungry. Sometimes I feel for a few minutes like I am sick to my stomach, and I have been tired all day. Hopefully it isn’t anything much and will pass after a good nights sleep. I have been coughing quite a bit though, which is unfortuanate. I have worked really hard to cut dairy out of my diet again, and I am doing well at saying no to milk. Which is difficult because milk is considered a luxury here, and man hosts go out of their way to serve it to you. Refusing food in Indian is rude. Even without milk, I have still been coughing, I think it is the pollution and dust in Indian air. It isn’t painful and no where near as bad as last year, but I am keeping an eye on it and taking my inhaler when necessary.
Mom and Dad your package still hasn’t arrived. The Indian Post Office is holding hostage, until they feel they have had sufficient time to rifle though all of my things. I asked Puthumai today if we could go and demand they give us the package. He said no, which is unfortunate. I guess I will just have to keep waiting ☺ Sending my love.
2/8 & 9
We took a baby auto to Seva Kendra, which is where I stayed the first night I arrived in India. It is like an SWI organization in Calcutta. We took cold showers, and had a really good breakfast of fried chapatis, (they had a name that starts with p) and hard-boiled eggs. After breakfast Hannah and I read in the sunlight and waited for Shupbra. She was our guide. Matias, a driver who used to be stationed at SWI, now stationed in Calcutta, drove us around for the day. Matias’s wife also came along. She is from a village near Raiganj and had never been out of the village. Our first outing was my favorie. We went to the Missionaries of Charity Mother House and saw Mother Teresa’s grave, the room where she died and an exhibition about her life. It was really powerful. We sat with one of the Sr.’s there, who is related to one of the SWI staff meembers. After that we went to St. Paul’s Cathedral, Victoria Memorial, stumbled across a massive communist party rally (the ruling party in W. Bengal), did some marketing, saw a museum and then went to Science City. It was quite the day of site-seeing. We had lunch at a local restaurant, it was mutton and rice. All in all the day was exhausting! The marketing was fun, although it sucks being a Westerner and getting cheated on prices where ever we go. Shupbra taught us some bargaining techniques, which came in handy as the day progressed.
I feel sick as the day progressed, it was hot, loud and I was dehydrated. I had a really bad headache and ended up staying in bed instead of going to dinner.
The next day we slept in, which was good, because after a sound nights sleep I felt much better. Then Hannah and I met Father Succi, who took us to a bank to exchange some money, and then across a famous bride in Calcutta. He took us out to lunch at a very fancy Chinese restaurant, and then dropped us off at New Market, a large market in Calcutta. We were alone for the first time in Calcutta! I bought some pashimas and some fabric for Mom’s quilt. After an hour of wandering around New Market and shopping we met up with Regina and Johannes who were in Calcutta picking up there friends from the airport. We spent the rest of the afternoon together and took a taxi home, just in time to pack and leave for the night train.
On the drive to the train we ran into horrible traffic. A jam in Calcutta means that you remain still for hours with cars, busses and motorcycles all around you. We decided to get out and walk down the street until we reached the end of the jam, otherwise we wouldn’t make the train. So we all (Hannah, Puthumai, Father Herman, who had arrived that morning, and me) schlepped our baggage over our shoulder and started speed walking down the streets of Calcutta. We speed walked for a km and a half, and then we began approaching what sounded like a large rally. Puthumai had heard about some violence earlier that day in the city. We avoided the large rally and headed down a side street. Finally we grabbed a baby auto and we were on our way to the train station. We made it just in time and settled into our beds early, as we were all very tired.
So there is the play by play of what happened in Calcutta. More importantly, here are my reflections on the trip. Calcutta is an assault on the senses. It is louder than Raiganj (which I didn’t think was possible) and much hotter too. The city is bright and full of over stimulating images. There are children begging carrying babies and persons who are disabled sitting on the side of the sidewalk. There are people in Western dress and white people. Hannah and I found ourselves staring at the white people. Calcutta alternates between smelling like feces, urine, fish and pollution. I have never breathed such polluted air in my life. I can’t describe to you the overwhelming sensation of a child pulling on your sleeve and motioning that they want money for food. Or the sensation of crossing traffic that seems more dangerous than a death penalty. Calcutta is more developed than Raiganj in so many places, but there are still others where the poverty is so raw, that it grips at your insides. The poverty is harsh, abrasive, and in your face. And at the same time, there are shops that rival US stores and people dressed as though they belong in the West. Hannah and I also noticed our ability to toughen up. In a city like Calcutta, being a Westerner, often means you get taken advantage of. And although I am sure we were cheated more than once, we also became more astutely aware of who was cheating us and how to fight back. We became aggressive with people following us around New Market trying to be our guides, we bartered with the shop owners over price and more than once walked away feeling successful. I guess in the end Calcutta made me exterior a little harder and my interior a lot softer.
I feel sick as the day progressed, it was hot, loud and I was dehydrated. I had a really bad headache and ended up staying in bed instead of going to dinner.
The next day we slept in, which was good, because after a sound nights sleep I felt much better. Then Hannah and I met Father Succi, who took us to a bank to exchange some money, and then across a famous bride in Calcutta. He took us out to lunch at a very fancy Chinese restaurant, and then dropped us off at New Market, a large market in Calcutta. We were alone for the first time in Calcutta! I bought some pashimas and some fabric for Mom’s quilt. After an hour of wandering around New Market and shopping we met up with Regina and Johannes who were in Calcutta picking up there friends from the airport. We spent the rest of the afternoon together and took a taxi home, just in time to pack and leave for the night train.
On the drive to the train we ran into horrible traffic. A jam in Calcutta means that you remain still for hours with cars, busses and motorcycles all around you. We decided to get out and walk down the street until we reached the end of the jam, otherwise we wouldn’t make the train. So we all (Hannah, Puthumai, Father Herman, who had arrived that morning, and me) schlepped our baggage over our shoulder and started speed walking down the streets of Calcutta. We speed walked for a km and a half, and then we began approaching what sounded like a large rally. Puthumai had heard about some violence earlier that day in the city. We avoided the large rally and headed down a side street. Finally we grabbed a baby auto and we were on our way to the train station. We made it just in time and settled into our beds early, as we were all very tired.
So there is the play by play of what happened in Calcutta. More importantly, here are my reflections on the trip. Calcutta is an assault on the senses. It is louder than Raiganj (which I didn’t think was possible) and much hotter too. The city is bright and full of over stimulating images. There are children begging carrying babies and persons who are disabled sitting on the side of the sidewalk. There are people in Western dress and white people. Hannah and I found ourselves staring at the white people. Calcutta alternates between smelling like feces, urine, fish and pollution. I have never breathed such polluted air in my life. I can’t describe to you the overwhelming sensation of a child pulling on your sleeve and motioning that they want money for food. Or the sensation of crossing traffic that seems more dangerous than a death penalty. Calcutta is more developed than Raiganj in so many places, but there are still others where the poverty is so raw, that it grips at your insides. The poverty is harsh, abrasive, and in your face. And at the same time, there are shops that rival US stores and people dressed as though they belong in the West. Hannah and I also noticed our ability to toughen up. In a city like Calcutta, being a Westerner, often means you get taken advantage of. And although I am sure we were cheated more than once, we also became more astutely aware of who was cheating us and how to fight back. We became aggressive with people following us around New Market trying to be our guides, we bartered with the shop owners over price and more than once walked away feeling successful. I guess in the end Calcutta made me exterior a little harder and my interior a lot softer.
2/7
Friday began with an early breakfast at DDC, mostly fruit, because Hannah is used to breakfast being sweet. Then we tried to get an auto to SWI. Unfortunately there were no autos on the street. We walked for a while, we passed St. Xavier and then finally an auto drove by! We reached SWI a little late, but if I haven’t explained yet, Indian time is different than American time. Schedules are a lot less important and begin late is more common than begin on time.
In the daytime hours I finished my project and emailed quite a few people at home. Hannah, Regina and I went out for South Indian food, at the restaurant in the back of the sweet shop. We had dosa and uttarpam. It was really good, the uttarpam is what we had last week after shopping with Regina and Johannes. The dosa was a savory thin fried pancake shaped in a triangle filled with vegetables and spices. The three of us went to Chonditola. And that was the first time that the kids cried when we left. It was heartbreaking. The two that I usually hold were the two that were crying. They are both pretty low energy, and the usually just like to snuggle in my arms. They are both around 3 years old. I shouldn’t hold them the whole time, because I think that is what causes the crying. But it is so hard, one of them just sits or stands around and looks so sleepy and the other one seems to be the one the older ones like to pick on. My heart had a lot of healing to do, after watching them stand there crying and holding up their arms as we walked away.
After Chonditola Hannah and I went with Regina to visit St. Xavier. We had a glass of water and exchanged some books. Then we went out to say hello to the kids. We chatted with a few of the older ones; they spoke wonderful English. And then the younger ones came over. They were in Kindergarten and I asked them if they could guess where I was from. They guessed India, then Germany, then they were lost. I told them I was from America and they started screaming and chasing a little one yelling America! Regina told me that they have nicknamed the one they were chasing America for some reason. It was amazing to see little kids with so much energy, because although some of the kids at Chonditola are active, quite a few seem very down. Which is understandable, considering that most of them are seriously ill or recovering from malnutrition. But it gave me hope that the kids at Chonditola, after some time, will heal and have as much energy as the kids at St. Xavier.
We left from SWI at 6pm and took a rickshaw to the train station. It was so awful watching the poor rickshaw driver try to pull Hannah, me and all of our luggage. But we finally made it! Hannah and I have come to the conclusion that Western women have larger feet, hips and chests, then Indian women. We are also taller with much longer legs.
We were on the sleep train, which means that we had beds, but no blankets. We spent a while chatting with Puthumai, it is always good to travel with Puthumai because it is the most of his undivided attention either of us ever gets ☺ After a wonderful dinner of mutton (which I just realized was goat) and chipati, we turned off the lights and fell asleep. It was chilly on the train and everyone woke up complaining of being cold. I think we all slept on the train, but train sleeping is usually in and out and pretty uncomfortable. But it is sleep nonetheless!
In the daytime hours I finished my project and emailed quite a few people at home. Hannah, Regina and I went out for South Indian food, at the restaurant in the back of the sweet shop. We had dosa and uttarpam. It was really good, the uttarpam is what we had last week after shopping with Regina and Johannes. The dosa was a savory thin fried pancake shaped in a triangle filled with vegetables and spices. The three of us went to Chonditola. And that was the first time that the kids cried when we left. It was heartbreaking. The two that I usually hold were the two that were crying. They are both pretty low energy, and the usually just like to snuggle in my arms. They are both around 3 years old. I shouldn’t hold them the whole time, because I think that is what causes the crying. But it is so hard, one of them just sits or stands around and looks so sleepy and the other one seems to be the one the older ones like to pick on. My heart had a lot of healing to do, after watching them stand there crying and holding up their arms as we walked away.
After Chonditola Hannah and I went with Regina to visit St. Xavier. We had a glass of water and exchanged some books. Then we went out to say hello to the kids. We chatted with a few of the older ones; they spoke wonderful English. And then the younger ones came over. They were in Kindergarten and I asked them if they could guess where I was from. They guessed India, then Germany, then they were lost. I told them I was from America and they started screaming and chasing a little one yelling America! Regina told me that they have nicknamed the one they were chasing America for some reason. It was amazing to see little kids with so much energy, because although some of the kids at Chonditola are active, quite a few seem very down. Which is understandable, considering that most of them are seriously ill or recovering from malnutrition. But it gave me hope that the kids at Chonditola, after some time, will heal and have as much energy as the kids at St. Xavier.
We left from SWI at 6pm and took a rickshaw to the train station. It was so awful watching the poor rickshaw driver try to pull Hannah, me and all of our luggage. But we finally made it! Hannah and I have come to the conclusion that Western women have larger feet, hips and chests, then Indian women. We are also taller with much longer legs.
We were on the sleep train, which means that we had beds, but no blankets. We spent a while chatting with Puthumai, it is always good to travel with Puthumai because it is the most of his undivided attention either of us ever gets ☺ After a wonderful dinner of mutton (which I just realized was goat) and chipati, we turned off the lights and fell asleep. It was chilly on the train and everyone woke up complaining of being cold. I think we all slept on the train, but train sleeping is usually in and out and pretty uncomfortable. But it is sleep nonetheless!
2/6
I am writing these next three entries on Tuesday the 10th. It is surprising how much memory can be washed away in a few days. I will retell these days to the best of my ability, but I will forewarn against stories mistold and memories forgotten. Thursday morning began with breakfast and class, the usual. Class is going well, although I am starting to sputter in my lessons. I need some new ideas and methods. Hopefully if I give it some time, I can get the creative juices flowing.
Tangent: These past weeks have shown me how many idioms there are in the English language. I often find myself explaining these to Hannah or a student in my class. It is so interesting to think of how colloquial the English language is. Tangent done.
This was the last day of the quarterly meeting and so after class I took an auto over to DDC to hear the closing speeches. I was very proud of myself, as this was my first time making it to DDC alone. DDC is about 6-8 km away from SWI. On the way there I was the only one in the auto, I was slightly worried that I had missed some social taboo, and my auto was for some reason an outcast. I was luckily incorrect in my worries, when I reached, Hannah told me that usually by the time the autos make it out to Mission Moore, they are empty. Unfortunately right after I arrived Father called me and told me not to come, the meeting was over. So I hoped right back into the jeep and drove back to DDC.
Puthumai’s brother was in an accident the morning before and was badly hurt. He was on a motorbike and was hit by another vehicle. Puthumai has not said anything very hopeful about his brother condition, and I ask that you all keep him and his family in your prayers.
In the afternoon I finished a serious chunk of my project and was able to chat online with Ajla and Stephanie. It is good to speak with people from home, although it is difficult at times. It feels like there is too much to say and nowhere near enough time to say it. I feel as though I am failing at being a good friend, because I am so out of touch with everyone’s struggles and joys. But it always helps to see smiling faces at home. Then a quick lunch and Hannah and I were off to Chonditola. I had packed my overnight bag, because Hannah, Regina and I were going to have a ladies night that evening. After Chonditola, Regina had a few classes to teach, and Hannah and I began our mission of stocking up on junk food, soda and sweets for the evening. On our drive home our auto broke down, the front wheel became flat and we had to walk the rest of the way. Luckily we were pretty close, but it was very funny seeing the auto drivers attempting to communicate to us that we had to get out and walk.
We were easily able to find the toffees that Hannah likes and the potato chips that I like. We also bought some fried dal (which is kind of like salted nuts) and then began searching for Coca-Cola. We asked every stand in Mission Moore (the intersection off of DDC) if they had any. They either shook their heads or brought out something that was not soda. We went back to DDC and asked Sr. Sarita where we could by it. She told us we had to go back to Raiganj. So we hopped in an auto (mind you this is our 3rd trip out stocking up on supplies) and we were off to find the soda. Once we found the hotel that sold the soda, Hannah decided she wanted to try fried brinjol (green eggplant). We bought a brinjol on the way home, and were happy to find Sr. Sarita and Sr. Philo waiting for us in the dining room. We asked if we could request the servants make fried brinjol for dinner. The Sisters told us that we needed special flour to make the brinjol. So we were off again. We went to a local shop in Mission Moore and asked for the kind of flour we wanted. They looked at us, and pointed around the store. They wanted us to show them what we wanted. This would have been a great idea except we had no idea what this flour looked like, and there were 5 bins of flour looking stuff in the shop. Finally we decided on one, and took it home, hoping we had found the correct one, and we didn’t have to venture out again. Well we were successful!
For dinner that night we had fried brinjol, and lots of other delicious food. Regina arrived just after dinner. We went up to Hannah room, which has three twin size beds and we began our night. We listened to German music, because Regina broke her MP3 player the first month into her trip here. We continued to eat, chat, sing and dance. Then we turned on Dirty Dancing. Overall it was a really great night, and all three of us thoroughly enjoyed ourselves ☺
Tangent: These past weeks have shown me how many idioms there are in the English language. I often find myself explaining these to Hannah or a student in my class. It is so interesting to think of how colloquial the English language is. Tangent done.
This was the last day of the quarterly meeting and so after class I took an auto over to DDC to hear the closing speeches. I was very proud of myself, as this was my first time making it to DDC alone. DDC is about 6-8 km away from SWI. On the way there I was the only one in the auto, I was slightly worried that I had missed some social taboo, and my auto was for some reason an outcast. I was luckily incorrect in my worries, when I reached, Hannah told me that usually by the time the autos make it out to Mission Moore, they are empty. Unfortunately right after I arrived Father called me and told me not to come, the meeting was over. So I hoped right back into the jeep and drove back to DDC.
Puthumai’s brother was in an accident the morning before and was badly hurt. He was on a motorbike and was hit by another vehicle. Puthumai has not said anything very hopeful about his brother condition, and I ask that you all keep him and his family in your prayers.
In the afternoon I finished a serious chunk of my project and was able to chat online with Ajla and Stephanie. It is good to speak with people from home, although it is difficult at times. It feels like there is too much to say and nowhere near enough time to say it. I feel as though I am failing at being a good friend, because I am so out of touch with everyone’s struggles and joys. But it always helps to see smiling faces at home. Then a quick lunch and Hannah and I were off to Chonditola. I had packed my overnight bag, because Hannah, Regina and I were going to have a ladies night that evening. After Chonditola, Regina had a few classes to teach, and Hannah and I began our mission of stocking up on junk food, soda and sweets for the evening. On our drive home our auto broke down, the front wheel became flat and we had to walk the rest of the way. Luckily we were pretty close, but it was very funny seeing the auto drivers attempting to communicate to us that we had to get out and walk.
We were easily able to find the toffees that Hannah likes and the potato chips that I like. We also bought some fried dal (which is kind of like salted nuts) and then began searching for Coca-Cola. We asked every stand in Mission Moore (the intersection off of DDC) if they had any. They either shook their heads or brought out something that was not soda. We went back to DDC and asked Sr. Sarita where we could by it. She told us we had to go back to Raiganj. So we hopped in an auto (mind you this is our 3rd trip out stocking up on supplies) and we were off to find the soda. Once we found the hotel that sold the soda, Hannah decided she wanted to try fried brinjol (green eggplant). We bought a brinjol on the way home, and were happy to find Sr. Sarita and Sr. Philo waiting for us in the dining room. We asked if we could request the servants make fried brinjol for dinner. The Sisters told us that we needed special flour to make the brinjol. So we were off again. We went to a local shop in Mission Moore and asked for the kind of flour we wanted. They looked at us, and pointed around the store. They wanted us to show them what we wanted. This would have been a great idea except we had no idea what this flour looked like, and there were 5 bins of flour looking stuff in the shop. Finally we decided on one, and took it home, hoping we had found the correct one, and we didn’t have to venture out again. Well we were successful!
For dinner that night we had fried brinjol, and lots of other delicious food. Regina arrived just after dinner. We went up to Hannah room, which has three twin size beds and we began our night. We listened to German music, because Regina broke her MP3 player the first month into her trip here. We continued to eat, chat, sing and dance. Then we turned on Dirty Dancing. Overall it was a really great night, and all three of us thoroughly enjoyed ourselves ☺
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