Back where I belong

As my time in India slowly winds down, I am attempting to spend as little time in Delhi as possible and to get out into the field and see some more of the country. This is also inspired by the 110 degree heat and unrelenting smog that is the magic of Delhi in the spring. Our bosses are currently considering replicating our study in a second state, and we are in the midst of trying to choose said state. Our first state, MP, is currently baking like a desert while it awaits the monsoon in July. We figure just about anywhere else in India will be a step up. Fortunately for us, number one on the list for state number two is Himachal, which just happens to be one of the most beautiful places in India. This small state sits to the north of Delhi and borders Tibet and the Himalayas. Its gorgeous scenery and cool temperatures make it a top tourist destination in the summer months. As the dutiful research assistants we are, Jack, Aakash, and I figured we owed it to our bosses to reluctantly leave the heat of Delhi and check out this new state.

After a few days of legitimate work, we were able to take three days to do some hiking and camping, which was an amazing break from the crowded mess that is Delhi. Note to self: as cool as chillin with the models of Delhi might be, it can't compete with sitting around a campfire with some good friends. Unfortunatley, as any of your who have camped with me know, the real reason I go is for the marshmallows, which were desperately missed on this trip.

We started off in Dharamshala, the home of His Holiness the Dalai Lama and the Tibetan Government in exile. Although the town has its charms, it was a little too full of dreadlock-sporting tourists for our taste and instead we took to the hills for some serious hiking and camping. Well, a serious as it gets for some out of shape city kids anyway. The pictures I have here just don’t do the beauty justice, I’ve never seen anything quite like it. The mountains we were in actually reminded me somewhat of the Sierra Nevadas in northern California. The only difference is here those are just the foothills, and the Himalayas rise majestically above them. On the second day we made the big push to make it up to the snow line and touch the Himalayan snow. I’m not gonna lie, after we reached the snow, huffing and puffing and full of blisters, I couldn’t help but notice that Himalayan snow feels oddly similar to the snow in Maine I could touch by stepping out the experience.

And of course, no trip in India is complete without at least one event that completely throws you off and reminds you that you still don’t understand this place at all. In this case I managed two of these events back to back on the taxi ride from Dharamshala to the train station in a neighboring town. We were winding along a one lane highway on the edge of cliff when we took a quick “chai break” at a roadside dhaba when our driver joined us and proceeded to pull out a joint the size of a pencil. We tried to give him the benefit of the doubt and asked him if it was a cigarette. He assured us it was “the good stuff”. Fortunately, after some convincing he agreed to wait until he was done driving us along the edge of cliff before he got high. And they say professionalism is lost.

Next, we came across your typical Indian village, made slightly less typical by the huge crowd gathered around in a circle in a park. Not wanting to miss anything good, we had the now sulking cab driver pull over so we could check it out. It turned out the entire male population of the village had gathered around to watch about 12 guys wrestling each other in their underwear. I’ve had several instances in India now – on the road at night or in a bar in a smaller town – where I’ve been the only woman surrounded by a sea of men. While I’m always slightly phased in these circumstances, this was the first time I actually had to abandon the guys and wait for them at the edge of the park. Somehow, after the beauty of the Himalayas, watching a bunch of chubby middle aged Indian men in tightie-whities wrestle each other to the ground just wasn’t on my list. For once, I really don’t think the women were missing out on anything.

My acting resume grows

Director’s note: The following events are real. The conversations actually occurred exactly as they are recorded. Due to the absolutely ridiculous nature of the content, the names have been changes to protect the innocent.

Scene 1: R.P. Singh, a casting agent in Delhi, is casting 15 people for a Nokia commercial. The commercial will feature a hip party that looks international enough to be anywhere people are hip and use Nokia phones. He has 10 models from Delhi of a variety of skin tones. He throws in two random black people. He now needs two white people to complete the picture. Remembering the two gorgeous and talented actors he had the chance to work with in the blockbuster film of the century, he calls up JackandSuzanne.

Scene 2: The following day at 5 pm.

Having no other life, and lured by the promise of fame and fortune, JackandSuzanne arrive at a gorgeous mansion on the outskirts of Delhi. They have no idea what they have signed up for, other than that it is some sort of commercial possibly involving Nokia. They meet a slightly dorky Finish man, flown in from Nokia to oversee the shoot.

JackandSuzanne: So what exactly is this a commercial for?

Mr. Nokia: Well, we have not yet gone public with that information so I really can’t tell you. All I can say is that it is not a product, but it is not a software either. It is a project. Basically we are going to be changing the way people communicate.

JackandSuzanne: ?

It turns out that the “star” actor knows all about this new form of communication, which he doesn’t hesitate to tell JackandSuzanne about. In the interest of avoiding a lawsuit with Nokia, the detail of said project will not be revealed on this blog, but when it does come out just remember I had the inside information.

Scene3: JackandSuzanne encounter The Director

The Director: Oh no, no one told you that you were supposed to dress like you were going to a party

JackandSuzanne (looking down at their T-shirts and jeans, which they had specifically chosen because they were told to dress like they were going to a party and these are their shirts that don’t have stains on them): No, I guess they forgot that part

The Director: We will send a driver to your apartment to pick up some clothes

JackandSuzanne (on the phone to their roommate): Can you grab the clothes in the back of the closet that are so nice we’ve never worn them here once and give them to the man at the door

Scene 4. Lounging around the mansion with the a bunch of Indian people.

Attractive Indian girl: So are you guys also models?

JackandSuzanne (inner monologue): Um, I think you have to be attractive to be a model?

JackandSuzanne: No, we’re NGO workers (inner monologue: which is almost as cool)

Attractive Indian girl: Oh. So do you party?

JackandSuzanne: Oh you know it

Attractive Indian girl: Where do you go?

JackandSuzanne: drop the name of one bar we frequent way too often

Attractive Indian girl: Oh (condescension oozes). I prefer F Bar, Lava, and Lap.

JackandSuzanne( inner monologue): Heard of F bar and Lava, would cost us our monthly salary for cover charge and one drink.

JackandSuzanne: What is Lap, we’ve never heard of it?

Attractive Indian girl: Well, you do have to be a member to get in there

Scene 5. The hair and makeup room

JackandSuzanne-minus-Jack (inner monologue): Damn why doesn’t Jack have to come into the scary room? Life is so unfair. Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so judged by a group of girls in my entire life – this is like high school on steroids.

A 5’2’’ Indian man proceeds to put more makeup on JackandSuzanne-minus-Jack than she has worn in her entire life – combined.

Scene 6. JackandSuzanne sitting in the prep room. Zoolander enters. Zoolander is an 18 year old Indian male model whom JackandSuzanne just met. From a few short conversations with him it is extremely clear that he is not the brightest crayon in the box. Zoolander says nothing, just walks up to the floor length mirror and pulls his shirt up over his chest. He proceeds to swing his arms up, simultaneously breathing out and striking a bizarre model pose that accentuates his ridiculous 8-pack abs.

Zoolander: I love my abs

JackandSuzanne: Yes, they are very nice. Some of the nicest we’ve ever seen.

Zoolander: I can’t decide what to wear – he proceeds to try on multiple outfits and is actually asking JackandSuzanne to pick for him

Mr. Nokia enters the room looking for the bathroom

Zoolander: What do you think I should wear.

JackandSuzanne (inner monologue): I never thought I would see the day when a fashion model is asking us and a guy in khaki’s and a corporate-issued polo shirt what he should wear for a photo shirt.

Later in the evening JackandSuzanne will watch as Zoolander spends 15 minutes sitting in the corner by himself taking a picture of himself on his cell phone, turning it around, admiring it, and then repeating the process.

Scene 7. JackandSuzanne proceed to be involved in numerous party scenes. As is the case with all tech-related commercials, there is no dialogue, everything plays out while a bouncy, up-beat tune plays in the background. Do to the lack of dialogue, JackandSuzanne have been upgraded from extras to key players, and actually interact with the “star” actor in a scene. At 12 midnight they break for dinner. They eat food. The models eat cigarettes and water. At 3:30am the shoot wraps.

End Scene

Field Photo Gallery

I've never been good about taking pictures. I generally forget to take them or when I do remember they turn out fairly miserably. Luckily, the digital age has a solution for this in the form picture-mooching off friends who are more photographically inclined. These are Aakash's pictures from Chhindwara, the destination of our most recent field visit.

A school - this is larger than most

Kids testing out the crayons we gave them

standard cow traffic jam

random waterfall we stumbled across

Kids in an Anganwadi center, which is free preschool

A government-run health clinic

We measure people's "peak flow" which is how much air passes through their lungs and is generally correlated to overall health

The wild ride that is rural India

Whew, I am back in Delhi at last – it feels like I’ve barely been here for the last few months, I’ve been spending a lot more time out in the field, which is interesting to say the least. My first trip was with Aakash to a district called Jhabua, where we checked in with our surveyors and explored the area a bit. Jhabua is our most tribal district, and it was really interesting to see the tribal villages, because they are noticeably different in terms of the villagers houses, clothing, and lifestyle. We were told to be slightly careful because visitors to these areas are sometimes shot with bows and arrows! Once we started talking with them, though, all the villagers were really friendly and seemed excited to talk with us. Even more than talking, they were pumped to share their Toddy with us, which is a local alcohol and one of their major sources of livelihood. And let me tell you, Toddy is not your basic microbrew.

It is basically the sap of these palm trees that grow in the area, and it doesn’t even need to ferment, you just collect it off the tree and drink it straight. Here is the exact Toddy process: First you scale the palm tree and leave jugs at the top to collect the sap. A few weeks later, you again climb the tree and collect all the sap (these dudes literally shimmy up the palm tree in about 20 seconds).

Starting up to collect the goods

The problem with the collection process is that bees fly into the booze and drown in it, so after you collect it you poor it through a filter to collect all the dead bees. Once you’ve filtered out those suckers, you’re ready to drink.

Filtering out the bees, yummy

The stuff doesn’t exactly taste good but it seems to be pretty strong and the tribesmen (not to mention our surveyors) were getting a huge kick out of the fact that I was willing to drink it.

This guy is a vetran Toddy collector, and made it up the palm tree in record time

In addition to learning to drink like a villager, I also learned their most common gambling game, which is called Carrom board. Carrom board is sort of like pool except its played with checkers on a wooden board and you try to slide them into the pockets. Ok that was a pretty pathetic description but if you look at the pictures it kind of makes sense.

Apparently Aakash had played before, so he suggested we try to take on the two village guys. Fortunately we didn’t put any money on the game, because I learned that I am just as pathetic at Carrom board as I am at pool. Pretty soon the entire village had gathered around to watch the white girl attempt to play. I quickly became their charity case, and they all started trying to coach me. The best part is that I actually improved and in the end I think I actually made my coach proud of his new protégé. Needless to say I really would have preferred to work 24/7 while in Jhabua, and yet was forced to bridge the cultural gap by drinking and playing Carrom with the villagers. The sacrifices I make for the good of the project…

Jeep top: our primary mode of transportation. And yes, to fit more people in they actually ride on the hood.

After Jhabua, Aakash headed back to Delhi and Jack came down and joined me for a quick three day tour of Rajgarh, another one of our districts. Somehow in just three days we managed to get into quite the shitshow, for lack of a better word. Challenge number one was to get ourselves from the city out to the village to meet up with Purshottam, one of our Indian coworkers who was already there. Amazingly we managed to get on the right bus, and we were quite proud of ourselves, until we of course got off at the wrong stop and ended up wandering around asking everyone for the Hotel Orange Residency. We walked past the Hotel Anand Residency entirely too many times before we realized that was, in fact what Purshottam had been talking about all along. On day 2, we went to visit a small town. We had been in said town exactly 60 seconds when we were “pulled over” by a cop (I don’t know what you call it when you’re a pedestrian and you get pulled over). The cop informed us that we had to go check in at the police station and show them our passports. Clearly Rajgarh is not yet ready for international tourism. We ended up spending an hour trying to prove to the cops that we were just looking around the town and not up to anything shady. He insisted that we give him a copy of our passports, which would have been fine except that Jack had left his at the hotel, which was over an hour away. We figured they would leave it at that, but that night they actually showed up at our hotel to get the copy. We weren’t sure if we should be proud or upset that it was worth it to them to travel over an hour just to get the copies. The best part is we still didn’t have a copy because the entire town our hotel was in had a power outage all day. The cop actually waited there for another hour for the power to come on just so he could get the copy. You know how some restaurants post pictures of celebrities who have eaten there? I think that the Biora police station is going to frame and post the copies of our passports with a little plaque underneath that says “these white people came here”. We should have signed them.

By day 3, we decided we should head back to the larger city since we were not exactly getting a warm reception from the smaller towns. We started with breakfast at a roadside stand. We were about halfway through when there was an explosion in the dhaba right next to ours, like about 20 feet away. Amazingly, the workers there seemed ok, although they were pretty badly burned. We were pretty shaken up and decided to go straight to the bus stand and get out of this district, which clearly had it in for us. We made it on to the right bus (go us) and sat right behind the driver. We made it through the first 20 minutes of the ride event-free, when a car passing us somehow hit a rock at the right angle to fling it into the front windshield, completely shattering it all over the driver and the front the bus. I have no idea how, but the driver was completely fine. I literally pulled a shard of glass out of my chin, but was otherwise fine, as was Jack. What’s even more ridiculous is that the driver barely missed a beat. He pulled over, brushed all the glass away, and then just kept right on driving. We drove the remaining four hours to Bhopal with no front windshield! Just when I thought it couldn’t get any more ridiculous, a bee was sucked in through the lack of windshield and stung me. Seriously? Overall it was an amazing trip, but also one of the most ridiculous 48 hours I’ve ever had, and I think both Jack and I were pretty glad to be back to the “peace and calm” of Delhi.

My hand is tired from signing autographs

So as you may remember, back in October I made a new best friend named Jules. You may know her as Julia Roberts. On the way to becoming best friends, I also dabbled in acting, showing a large repertoire of walking, standing, and bollywood dancing. After months of sleepless nights in anticipation of my debut, the Eat Pray Love trailer was released, or at least now shows up on youtube. While watching it, Jack managed to hit pause at exactly the right moment to view our glory. I can guarantee you that this moment passes so quickly you can try 100 times to re-pause it and will not succeed. Thus, the still fame below is the only way to see my 0.15 seconds of fame. Please note the red circles, clearly indicating, from left to right: Jack (in amazing red hat), Me (10 shades more pale than anyone else in the shot), and Julia (clearly in the midst of thinking how amazing I am as an extra and planning our next shopping trip).

Family Matters

Considering in our family (as I believe is true in most families) the ability of the group to make asses of themselves is generally greater than the sum of its parts, I have to say I think my family survived their week here quite admirably. We powered through the Golden Triangle, a famous North Indian tourism trifecta consisting of Delhi, Agra (the Taj Mahal) and Jaipur (home of a large fort/palace).

We started and ended the week in Delhi, and I think my proudest moment was when the four of us squeezed into the back of an auto like any good penny-pinching Delhi family would do. The Taj Mahal was absolutely amazing, and totally meets the hype. It was made even more enjoyable by our Indian tour guide, who kept talking about the Muggles who had built it. We got extremely excited that he too was Harry Potter fan and we were impressed that he took the time to tell us it was not, in fact, constructed by a bunch of Hogwarts kids. Alas, it turns out he was referring to the Mughals, who build an empire in India in the mid 16^th century and who are not nearly as cool as Muggles.

Agra also has a history of producing precious stones, so part of our tour included a stop at a jewelry store that makes Tiffany’s look like Claire’s. I mean there were some serious rocks in there. At one point the jeweler showed us their prize piece, which was an emerald necklace worth 7 million dollars. After he showed it to us he insisted that one of us try it on. Of course, my mom, sister, and I were terrified of the thing, I mean if we broke it my NGO salary in rupees was not exactly going to help us buy it back. Somehow he convinced Care to wear it, and I must say that it went extremely well with the Red Sox t-shirt she was wearing. I think its safe to say no Plant will ever again wear a 7 million dollar necklace. Hell, even a 7 million rupee necklace isn’t likely!

Mostly it was great to see them after such a long time, and I think they enjoyed seeing the absolute chaos that is a life in India. Being with them definitely made me realize I am going to be in for some serious culture shock when I get back to the US. I don’t think I had realized just how “Indian” I’ve become over these past 9 months. I’ve definitely picked up on Hinglish, which involves using bizarre verb tenses and phrases - I would be wanting to see you all when I get back to the US, and I will do my level best to see you this summer only. Once I am in receipt of my plans I would be letting you know. Fortunately, I still prefer beer to Barcadi Breezers and football to cricket, so there is some hope for an easy transition.

The glossary grows

I am currently in the middle of very rural India, and it has been an interesting journey thus far. It still amazes me that I can get internet out here (via the cell phone towers) but only a squat toilet. Real porcelain or access to facebook? Tough choice. I will relay stories of my visit at some point I’m sure, but in keeping with last post’s theme, as well as in preparation for the familial visit, I put together a glossary of a things India.

Chai – India’s national drink. Most people down about 4 shot-sized cups of chai a day. Its 10% tea and spices, 40% milk, 50% sugar and 100% delicious. If you are visiting someone or meeting with an organization they will offer you tea once every few hours. You can say no thanks but they’ll be bringing you some anyway.

Cricket – By far India’s national sport, nothing else even comes close. Boys play at all hours of the day using sticks and stacked rocks for wickets. At first I really could have cared less about the sport, until I met a really hot cricket player and suddenly I wanted to know all about it. Now I can actually follow a game and can say with authority it is not nearly as fun or interesting as football.

Cricket, Indian National Team –Imagine if you will that the entire country was made up of Boston and its surrounding areas and that the Red Sox played year round. This is the Indian National Cricket team. Sure, you have your occasional supporters of those others sports – here its field hockey and soccer – but everyone knows that they aren’t worth nearly as much to society. When they play everyone watches, when they win everyone celebrates, when they lose everyone feels it.

Dhaba – A general name for any street stall selling food. Some of my best meals in India have been at Dhabas, and they only set you back 20 rupees, or about 60 cents. Definitely not for those without a strong stomach, though.

Green dot/red dot – Since so many Indians are vegetarian, all menus and foods use a green dot to label veg food and a red dot to label non-veg food. Sometimes the green dot seems hardly necessary – such as on a bottle of coke but hey, its better safe than sorry. The red dot also appears on items that have egg. The first time we ordered chocolate cake with a red dot we tore it apart looking for the bits of chicken.

Head nod – The Indian head nod is impossible to miss if you spend more than 20 minutes in the country. It is neither a nod nor a head shake, but consists of moving your head back and forth at a diagonal. It is the response to nearly every question and it can mean yes, it can mean no, it can mean I understand, and it can mean I don’t know. The key to interpreting the head nod is an analysis of angle, facial expression, and speed. It is a highly precise art.

Ji – a term of respect, such as Suzanne-Ji. The problem is that they translate this to sir, regardless if they are talking to a man or a woman. I have now been called sir so many times that I’m starting to seriously question my hair and wardrobe choices.

Kingfisher – Kingfisher is by far the most common brew sold here and is basically synonymous with beer. The key to a Kingfisher is that it has a different taste depending upon which state it is brewed in. If the bottle says Kerela it can be pretty decent. If, however, the bottle says it’s from Punjab it tastes like the Natty lite you had from a warm keg your freshman year.

Sachin – Sachin Tendulkar is the most important name in Indian cricket, and thus in Indian sports. He’s like Michael Jordan, Brett Favre, and Wayne Gretzky rolled into one 5’4’’, 130 pound Indian man. He’s been playing for the Indian national team for a whopping 20 years and has broken every record in the book.

Shah Rukh Khan – Definitely Bollywood’s biggest star. You can’t go a day in India without seeing his face. He is in about a movie a month, on billboards, in magazines, TV ads, in the newspaper at least once a day. Basically: he’s kind of a big deal.

While these glossaries are clearly not the entire Cliff’s Notes to India – should you ever find yourself here they should bring you one step closer to fitting in. Or you can just wear a Sari and call it good.