September 14

I had just finished lighting candles in my apartment when the power went out. We were waiting for our Indian friends to arrive this past Saturday night and all of a sudden, our rooms turned dark, relying only on the subtle light the candle provided.
At the moment, I have six candles lit in my room. It is my attempt to create a romantic, intimate atmosphere in this new and alien setting. The florescent lighting will not do. It is around 9:30pm and tomorrow is Monday. This weekend was filled with intense, exciting, and frustrating experiences. It feels like we’ve been here for a month. But it’s only because every moment is like a day to us-everything is powerfully different, our emotions are on overdrive.

I would like to get to bed, but this is not possible. Dozens of drums are being banged upon outside in the streets, Hindi music is booming from nearby buildings, people are whistling, cars are honking - it resembles the sound that comes from a bowl game halftime show. Or maybe even the super bowl halftime. Or perhaps Times Square on New Year’s Eve. The Hindus are celebrating Ganesha, the elephant god. Festivals are perhaps my favorite aspect of the Hindu religion. There is always something to celebrate. Us Christians have one or two such occasions throughout the year but even Christmas and Easter don’t unleash this kind of excitement, merriment, and festivity. At the moment, my tired body is not as appreciative (a cracker goes off) of the tradition because the noise is preventing much needed rest BUT I really do admire the Hindus for their willingness to frequently come together and rejoice (another fire cracker goes off). Another opportunity to be grateful. It’s beautiful. I really believe us Westerners are missing out.

Another thing I admire about the Hindu religion is their acceptance of other beliefs. As I rode in a rickshaw with my Hindu friend Priya this morning, she told us we were going to visit a church. “I am Hindu but I love Jesus.” My friend Sonja and I chuckled. “Why do you love Jesus?” we asked. “He’s very good. Oh, I’ve seen him in movies and he’s just great. Yes, I love Jesus. ” Moments later, when we approached the Infant Jesus Church, Priya entered the church and prayed for a few minutes. The church was very large and filled with colorful saris (about 40 fire crackers go off). The service was in either Kannada or Hindi, (lots of cheering, whistling-the music dies down, perhaps an end is near?) I haven’t been able to tell the difference. How funny it was to be in a church and feel like an outsider.

We are outsiders everywhere here. We don’t forget for a second. Here in my apartment, away from the peering eyes, I am still an outsider. I am not used to the intensity of noise that is being generated on my street and in the neighborhood. At times I feel like I can completely ignore the stares and snickers but at other moments, I feel I am at my wits end. When a rickshaw driver refuses to use meter for me, when men selling the strangest, unnecessary items follow us down the street in hopes we will purchase their silly goods, when Indian girls my age look me up and down and laugh, when-the list can go on and on. And yet, despite all this animosity, skin whitening cream is sold in the stores. There is such an admiration of white skin here and it’s an aspect of their culture that I find hard accepting. Part of me thinks it’s strange and sickening but then I stop myself from being so lazy and instead yearn to find the answers to my questions: why, when, how?

So much traffic. I can’t use the word “chaos” to describe the scenes here. But that is the only word I can come up with. Everything is chaotic. I picked up a book the other day called Bangalored. It’s written by an Indian author who interviewed expatriots living in here in Bangalore. I’m only into the second story but the first pages brought me so much comfort I wanted to share some lines here. A Dutchman, who married an Indian girl and had been living in India for quite some time, commented “Each day, I live through heavenly visual delights and hellish pollution and traffic and bureaucracy. By night, I get drained confronting the world and myself” (Sundaresan 12-13). Reading these words brought me such relief-his thoughts are exactly my own. I have about three other books I’m currently reading about India. But this one I will treasure the most. It reminds me I’m not crazy, that other people have done this before, and that everything will be alright.

Ever since I came to India, and even before, I’ve considered piercing my nose. Here in India, a majority of the women have their noses pierced. Undoubtedly, it is the norm, not the exception. And the rings are so beautiful here, I just couldn’t resist the temptation. So today, Sameena and Priya took me and two other girls to get it done. In about twenty minutes, three Americans came out looking a little more Indian. It only took three pairs of watery eyes, two hands to squeeze, and 50 rupees (about $1.14). Hours later, my nose is still upset at me-if it could talk it would be cursing my judgment right now…but oh well. I’m happy.

God, there are too many things to comment on here. So many subtleties and details that I forget to mention but which are critical to shaping the world in which I live in now. Here’s something small I’ll end upon: whenever I talk with Bangaloreans I know, they will open the conversation with a phrase that is totally unfamiliar to us English speakers. “Had your lunch?” they will say. Or “had your breakfast?” if its morning and “Had your dinner?” at night. It almost immediately follows a hello and brings a smile to my face each time I hear it. When Priya gave me her cell phone to meet her boyfriend via telephone, the first thing he really said was, “had your breakfast?” If anything, it’s the Indian English equivalent to “what’s up?” It’s really funny to hear unfamiliar phrases in your native tongue. But I think I’ll adopt this custom. So don’t be surprised if the next time we talk, I ask “had your dinner?”