September 9
The bus left around 9 in the morning from Ali Asker Road. For the next hour, we traveled to the outskirts of Bangalore, driving through the sea of rickshaws, cows, and chaos that makes up traffic in an Indian city. The sheer number of people reminds me of the awe that comes from seeing a night sky of a thousand stars. But there we are looking up towards something untouchable. Here, the stars completely surround us. They are beggars, they are Brahmins, they are Hindus and Muslims, they are Christians, they are Jains. Unlike the stars we see from afar, which all look alike, the amount of diversity on the ground amongst us is extraordinary. Everything is different. And yet, the sight of the sacred cow walking up and down the streets does not surprise me…I think it almost admirable to revere such an animal that is otherwise disregarded in the States. For the most part, I have only eaten vegetarian here and I plan to continue that diet. I have always been disgusted by the thought of eating animals-it’s so reassuring to be in a place where vegetarians are the norm.

As we continued on through the streets of Bangalore, I was seeing much of my new city for the first time and I felt a little saddened as we pulled away. Poverty became all the more familiar as we traveled towards the outskirts. In a way, I’ve been desensitized through pop culture and even though I was seeing “real” poverty for the first time, I wasn’t AS affected by it and I felt terribly guilty. Nothing here has surprised or shocked me. I came very well prepared. This doesn’t mean that what I am seeing is not moving me in one way or another-it is just the initial shock factor is not there. How to describe the scenes I saw? They resemble your crudest images of destitution. I’m sure my blog will be filled with endless descriptions in the months to come and I will struggle with the writing. For I like to think any situation has beauty, sometimes poetry only has to unveil it…but no language can find beauty in describing this kind of desperation, this dirt, this shit. Our destination, only a few kilometers away from that desperation, only further highlighted the contrast of extremes found here in India. Pulling into Angana retreat felt like getting off an elevator at the top floor of heaven, just after arriving from the ground of hell. No stops in between. Just one clear shot. We entered into a lush paradise-a forest shading us from the unsympathetic Indian sun, flowers resting in basins of water, freshly cut lawns, a pool that looked like it could be on the cover of a healing magazine, a building that felt more like a temple-all of this after arriving from the ground floor. The views were the complete opposite. Here is the website, check it out:) http://www.anganacountryinn.com/home.html

But after a few days here, the westerner in me is grumbling. Sleeping on mattresses next to floors that are also home to ant piles, adapting to the no toilet paper lifestyle and constantly filling my stomach with unfamiliar spices is leaving me a little off center. My body is beginning to have its first crisis, after almost a week of only Indian food, I need relief. Luckily, Bangalore is waiting with remedies. Pizza Hut it is tonight!

But in this foreign world, my life has become simpler. My feet are not bound by the harshness of shoes, I sleep on a mattress on the floor in a room which has only white walls, a fan, and some spare windows. I don’t need anything else. I wash my hair with a bucket of water, I sip chai throughout the day, I fall asleep to the sound of shrieking monkeys and watch as the monsoon rain invades our realm. At the moment, it looks like rain. I never thought I would be cold in India but last night, after hours of pooring rain, I wished for a sweatshirt and instead wrapped myself up in a blanket and went to sleep. Prior to that we had a classical music performance, complete with a dancer, vocalist, tabla and flue player, as well as a tampura. The Indian voice is as smooth as the silk of the sari and I ached to replicate the sound. I plan on looking into flute or sitar lessons while I am here.
Today is our final day here at Angana. We will be continuing our study of Kannada, the language of our state, Karnataka (Bangalore is the capital). Kannada is the mother tongue of Karnataka’s citizens but would probably be unrecognizable in other regions of India. Most people in Bangalore will be completely fluent in at least Kannada, Hindi (the national language), and English. Many will know more than that. The linguistic diversity of this country is astounding and I am incredibly grateful for the opportunity to learn and speak a language that most Americans have never even heard of. Here are some examples of useful phrases, all of which I have already mastered:


Hello: Namaskara
Thank you very much: thumba dhanyavadagalu
How are you: neevu hegidheera?
Fine: chennagidhene

Pretty intense, no? I’m confident I’ll be able to pick it up quickly, especially since we live in our own apartments and maneuver our way around the city on our own. I’ll actually be checking out the accommodations tomorrow and we move in Friday. I cant wait! I’ll be staying in a two bedroom apartment with a study abroad student from UMASS Amherst named Abigail. She’s lived in Spain and Mexico and traveled through Europe. Everyone here in this program is so well traveled and it’s really inspiring. Humbling, as well.

India was always a distant a dream of mine, lingering as far away as the geography, but existing nonetheless. Now, I have made that journey to the fancies I always environed in my head. But I am a baby here, without the capabilities of speech and the capacity to understand the new. I am in a cradle, with my eyes peering at the unfamiliar, not quite sure which direction I should be looking in. America was a womb and here in India, I have been born. Everything is loud in this outside world. And I miss the quiet of my mother and the gentle rocking. the peacefulness of my existence has diminished and now I am screaming as I am born, I am freezing in India with my delicate skin naked and exposed for all to comment on. I will never again return to that womb of comfort and serenity. But instead I must seek it on my own. In a way it is terrifying, I have no parents to guide me now that I am born. India is my mother now, I must let her teach me how to live. But at times I feel unwelcome in this foreign place-that even though I am a curious newborn anxious to get it right, I feel like an unwanted child. Unplanned and an unpleasant surprise, I’m an orphan.


I'll continue the first impressions list, here's just one thing:

TRAFFIC: Without a doubt, the most intense traffic I’ve ever been in. Egypt is pretty close…but here there are just too many other factors-the rickshaws in addition to the other forms of public transportation, the animals including the cows, the thousands of stray dogs that roam, and the people-there are just so many! The whole place feels like a circus. Every time I get into rickshaw, which is several times a day, I feel like I’m on a rollercoaster ride and actually made some jokes about pitching an idea to Disneyworld. “The rickshaw.” Isn’t it catchy? There would be no seatbelts of course, four people crammed into a three person backseat, a situation where the driver stops to fix something, constant noise of honking, random animals in the mix-and most importantly, moments where one thinks they will get into an accident. I would say that in a five minute ride, maybe twenty times. Don’t you think it could be popular?

September 10
Going to sleep is quite an experience here. Noise constantly kidnaps me from my dreams. The morning call to prayer, sounding from the largest mosque in South India, only a kilometer away from where I sleep now, always strolls right through my nightly fancies and I end up following the strange sound, curious and bemused. Sleeping is not an option when it’s such a beautiful and haunting melody. The moment it finds my ears I know I live in a completely different world. It shakes my senses, usually interrupting scenes of familiarity and home. I hear the whining of a dog and I sigh. There are so many strays here…I am preparing myself to see a dog get hit by a car-it’s bound to happen….which is a traumatizing thought. It makes me so sad to see all of te strays and I know I need to volunteer at a shelter of some sort. A couple of hours ago, when the acll awoke me and I listened to the crying of a lone dog, my heart ached. I thought of my two dogs, living in doggy wonderland and I questioned why they were so lucky. The only explanation I could arrive at was quintessential Indian: my dogs have awesome karma. I’m serious. I think it’s an easy and convenient explanation that is almost dismissing the problems at hand, but in a small way, I’ve succumbed to the idea. I think it eases the pain my eyes feel as I see suffering-I’m sure the Indians feel similar.

***

I feel a little sick this morning. If I were to be truly Indian my response would be to tap into Ayur Veda, a form of traditional medicine that diagnosis and treats problems based on the elements that make up our bodies. There are five elements including ether (space), wind, fire, water, and earth. Then out of these elements there are three subgroups. Ether and wind make up vata, fire and water pitta, and water and earth are kapha. Everyone in India will know their body type…it’s usually an indication of how well we sleep, our diets and appetities, physical appearance, moods, as well as what diseases or problems we are most likely to encounter. I am, without a doubt, a pitta. And doing things in moderation is apparently what I need to work on. Nothing could be truer. Anyone who knows me well might laugh at such a statement…it hits it right on the nail. Especially my parents know I easily become obsessed with certain ideas or things, change my mind, and become passionate about something completely different. My overused phrase, “it’s so chill,” is an attempt to calm me down. I was told sixty percent of Indians use Ayur Veda as their main form of medicince and even conventional doctors will use it in addition to implementing western techniques. Somehow I’ve known about Ayur Veda but I cant remember where on earth I read about it. Maybe I’m recalling the information from a past life..hehe…...