Seven Months

Happy seven month anniversary to us! (Okay I just read “Gone Girl” and my head is still reeling from the book, and I may have stolen the format for that opening line from the book just so I could say, EVERYONE SHOULD READ IT! Moving on…).  With two months to go, things have been getting and feeling much better: the speakers at our past orientations would probably point to those study abroad graphs they have and say “see you’re following it to the ‘T’!” but I’d like to think that it is more than just the fact that I’ll be returning home soon.  As I sit in this mosquito filled middle school hallway, it saddens me to think that in two months my mornings won’t be filled with the sound of my sixth and seventh graders running up the ramp and through the front doors yelling for their friends, and skidding to a stop at my desk to get in a “OHGOODMORNINGMAM” before running off to copy some homework or gossip before the morning assembly. What am I going to do when I don’t have to give my two class clowns ‘the look’ every morning because they are playing Spider Man and Captain America with some yarn and a book in the hallway during break (which turns into a fist fight 30 seconds later when they lose the yarn and book)?  But for now, I’m going to stop reminiscing from fear of making this entire post a romanticized version of my past seven months, because I imagine that my last post will do the job just fine.

In December, I was lucky enough to be able to go to Nepal, Pondicherry, Sri Lanka, and Mumbai. In an attempt to summarize this month of travel and still keep this post reasonably short, I’ve decided to make this post mostly pictures and excerpts from my journal entries during my travels.  I am going to do my best not to edit them as I retype them, so I apologize in advance for how ridiculous some of my unfiltered thoughts might be…

~

Nepal

“The scratchy sound of white noise jolted me awake. “Ladies and Gentlemen please upright your seats and your tray tables as we prepare for landing, thank you.”  I cracked my neck, straightened my chair and glanced out the little plane window. I gasped: below me was the most beautiful scene I have ever seen flying into any country. Or perhaps just seen, period. I suddenly felt like a three year old on my first road trip, my forehead was glued to the window, my eyes wide open, my breath making the glass foggy below my nose. The valley was full of mountains of varying sizes cast in varying shadows of blue, with white capped peaks, never-ending jagged slopes, dips and turns, valleys and caverns.  I was entranced, mesmerized, captivated. They were everything I had imagined and so much more.  I have never in my life ever seen mountains that beautiful, and I can’t imagine that I ever will again. They have a magical affect, those mountains. I feel ridiculous for saying that, but it’s the truth. I felt tricked because everything was so peaceful when I was looking at them. I tried to fight it, but it was impossible.”

…

“This conference is amazing. Well, the people are amazing.  I could use a little less conferencing… Everyone we met in Austin is here, but we are all much less shy, less awkward, less attached to the group of people from our own country.  Although for India, it is also perhaps the last time we will all be together in one big group, so we’ve been trying to get as much quality time together as possible.  Last night, those of us that had arrived already, went to an Irish Pub where they had a band of Nepali men with huge froes screaming (or ‘singing’) to the beat of banging drums. It actually reminded me of a Coheed and Cambria concert (yes, I know, I’ve been to one) only definitely not as good. But after not having been to a real bar in about six months, it was refreshing. It is FRIGID here though. I am not at all prepared. I also blame it on Madurai. I think my internal body temperature has dropped, because I’m pretty sure it is not actually that cold; i.e. it’s US early spring weather. But after the constant one hundred degree weather of the Mad this feels like freezing temperatures.”

…

“Our last few days have been filled with day-long conference sessions, some more interesting than others.  Each country (for India, each city) had to give a fifteen minute presentation on the first day, those were definitely the most interesting—some of them were tearjerkers.  Hearing about all of the things the ETAs have been doing other than just teaching, has given me that final kick in the butt to go back and start volunteering, to take charge of my schedule at school and get out of these last three months what I wanted out of this experience.  But I think the most inspirational part of this whole conference, is the time we get to interact with each other, outside of the drudging meetings. These people are all amazing, fun, enthusiastic, hilarious, brilliant (I’m starting to sound like a Thesaurus so I’m going to stop now), etc.  I absolutely love all of them, and it’s really exciting to think that we all have this connection for life. We have this amazing experience that we’ll share, will always remember, will continue to learn from in different ways, and continue to share with each other and the rest of the world. So this week is also a really good reminder of how lucky I am to be a part of this group this year.”

~

Sri Lanka

“I knew Madurai wasn’t a very efficient city, but oh man today it hit the limit.  I was so excited that for once I could get somewhere from Madurai with just one flight. It was supposed to be effortless, relaxed, comfortable. Instead I stood in front of an immigration officer’s desk for THIRTY MINUTES. You would think, maybe, that in order to be an immigration officer you would HAVE TO KNOW ENGLISH. Apparently not in Madurai. I really shouldn’t have been surprised: they let you take a water bottle through security here as long as you take a sip of it in front of the security guard…

But I’m getting off track. This immigration officer, oh boy. I walk up to his desk, hand him my passport and OCI card and form.  He looks at it for a few minutes while I’m daydreaming about Sri Lankan beaches. “You are student?” I nod my head, “Yes Sir.”  Where do you study? “At an American College sir, in the US.” “Ohh American College in Madurai?” “No, a college in America.” “What?” I spent another ten minutes trying to explain to him that I went to a University called Washington University in America, not American college in Madurai. His response… “Ohh in Washington DC?” I sighed, “SURE, yes.”  He went back to looking at my documents. Two minutes later he started asking me what I was studying. I told him English.  He looked at me. “Mam, American College is an Arts and Sciences College, you cannot study engineering there.” I could feel my temple throbbing. “Sir, I said English. ENGLISH LIKE THE LANGUAGE YOU SHOULD HAVE TO STUDY TO HAVE THIS DAMN JOB.” If only I had said that. Instead I spent another five minutes trying to re-explain that I studied in the US not in Madurai.  At this point a very nice young woman standing behind me walked up to the counter, patted my shoulder, and explained it all to him in Tamil. He seemed to understand. Two minutes later, he asks “Who is your guardian?” I stared at him. “Excuse me?” “You are an OCI cardholder, who is your guardian?” He’s KIDDING right? “Sir, I’m 23 years old I don’t have a guardian.” “Mam, in order to be an OCI card holder you must have a guardian.” I wanted to PUNCH HIM. Apparently this guy has more problems than just not speaking English. “Um sir, NO YOU DON’T. I was born in India.” “Mam who are you living with here?” “My friends.” “What male is taking care of you?” At this point I am ready to go apeshit on his ass. “NO ONE, YOU CHAUVINISTIC PIG.” “Mam I need the number of your guardian.” I was shaking with rage as I wrote down the number of my grandfather. After all of this, he called over two more idiot men and they talked about me for about ten minutes. I was breathing so hard and my face was so red you would have thought I just tried to run a marathon. Finally he decided to let me pass. He pushed my documents toward me and I stormed over to customs.  The customs officer took one look at me and decided it would be better not to speak with me. I handed him my things, and after looking through them for a minute he looked up with a weak smile and then said timidly… “Um mam, where is your immigration stamp?” I almost cried. “What are you TALKING ABOUT? I JUST STOOD AT THAT DESK FOR THIRTY MINUTES.” He shuffled through my things apologetically. He finally found the stamp. It was on my boarding pass. He called over the manager to go yell at the idiot at counter three. Ten minutes later I was boarding a toy plane with three propellers and one seat in each row. Great. I’m never going to make it to Sri Lanka.”

…

“There are so many Elephants!!!! I love it.  Sri Lanka is actually very much like India, just cleaner and smaller. We walked Colombo (well most of it) in one afternoon, stopping to admire the beautiful Gangarama Temple.  We tried to break into the Harbor that was our Hotel’s neighbor, but decided that might not be smart when we noticed that a Police headquarter and the heavily guarded President’s house shared the same street.”

“The beach was gorgeous: Carolina and I spend Christmas Eve on Unawatuna eating a five course meal at a table in the sand with our toes just one foot from the ocean, the waves lapping toward us threatening to wet our feet.  On Christmas we spent the morning in the water and on the shore lounging and reading: it felt a little wrong not to be eating chips and guac and sipping a margarita.”

“Kandy was like a jungle paradise on a mountain, lush roadside gardens of coconut trees, palm trees, and flowery bushed.  And the Elephant orphanage!!!! I have never seen so many elephants! I did feel a twinge of guilt that the elephants were prodded with bull-whips and forced to pose for pictures with gullible tourists who would hand over much too large of a tip to a worker in exchange for the quick snap.  But I suppose if not for the orphanage many of these elephants would not have survived…?”

~

Weary and beat from travel, but inspired by the wonderful people I met at our conference, I came back to The Mad with new resolve: one of my New Year’s resolutions is to try and make these last three months the best that they can be.  Soon after returning I was lucky enough to run into someone who worked at an NGO, People’s Watch, which combines all three of my passions: law, human rights, and women’s health. The organization handles everything from human rights violations in schools to human rights violations in communities, hospitals, the work place, etc. This job is giving me the chance to be involved first hand in so many relevant community, state, and nation-wide issues, and it has really made me feel like a more productive part of this city. Not to mention I’ve met some pretty amazing, bad ass, and strong individuals.

I’m excited by the direction this past month has been headed, and as time flies by, I am doing my best to grab every opportunity that comes my way, do things that make me happy, relax, and laugh a little more at the ridiculous things that happen on a daily basis.  I feel more like myself than I have in the past few months and this city is finally starting to feel like a home to me:  I finally have some internal peace and quiet. I of course can’t wait to be headed home—to finally see friends and family—but I’m glad to be ending this year on a happy note, and not an anxious one.