Back Again

Coming back to Hyderabad was almost like coming home. It was sad to walk through the Hyderabad airport without Kaia and Diana, knowing that I wouldn't be seeing them this semester, but once I got back to Tagore and saw the other five people that stayed from last semester, I knew everything was going to be just fine.
It's hard to believe that I've already been back for nearly a month, but I'll try to recall everything accurately.
Spring semester at UoH technically started on January 3, but my plane ticket was already booked for January 7. By the time I got to Tagore on the 8th or 9th (once again, time zones are super confusing) I was kind of already known as the "mysterious late girl." I was afraid that I'd missed out on the essential bonding time with the new SIP students, but people were still settling in by the time I arrived. If anything, being the last person to get there just gave me an excuse to ask, "what is your name again?" for an extra week than was socially graceful.
Since all I brought back from India to the US in December was presents and my pillow, I had a lot of room in my backpack on my return trip. I filled up the entirety of my backpack with tampons and food. Like, the checked bag limit was 50lbs and my backpack was 47lbs. It took me one week to finish one of my bags of pretzel M&Ms and 3weeks to finish my first jar of peanut butter. We all have to make sacrifices while living abroad, but undoubtedly mine is the hardest.
All of the new people here are really great. There's more than there were last semester, but about half of them are all in home-stays, which makes it really hard to know everyone (at this point I've given up on ever knowing the home-stay kids). There are a lot more girls than boys, which has potential to be weird but since everyone is so nice its been really great so far.
As far as school goes everything actually seems to be a lot more organized this semester, which I think terrifies the new kids since they didn't think anything was organized at all. By the time I got here nearly everyone had bikes and phones and the classes on the course list were actually the classes being offered. This semester SIP got another Urdu professor (thank god) so I continuing with that in the hopes that I might actually learn something this time around. I'm also taking Indian Diaspora, Women's Movements in India, and Ayurveda.

Team Tagorgeous

The second week I was here, some girls were watching a cricket match on campus and a professor approached them and asked them if they wanted to set up an intramural team at Tagore. So when they started to ask around at Tagore I agreed, thinking it would be a fun way to meet new people and ridiculous to see a bunch of white girls playing cricket for the first time in India.
The first meeting/practice was on a Sunday afternoon, so me and a few of the girls walked across campus to meet up with the group. We met for about 2hr with the professor and a couple of students who had agreed to help out. Basically, there was a tournament being held the next week and since we had a team we'd be playing in it. At the end of practice the coach set up our next practice time, which was the next day at 6 in the fucking morning. He asked if that worked for everyone, and I was absolutely the most vocal in expressing that that did not work for me. I mean, thinking about me even participating in an organized sport is laughable, but then expecting me to wake up before noon to play that said sport is absurd. I politely informed the group that I would not be attending the 6am practices, but I was more than happy to practice outside Tagore with them between tea time and dinner (5-7pm). They said that was fine, therefore I did not even pretend to make an effort to get up for practice.
We were originally supposed to play our first game that coming Thursday, but India being India, our game was postponed until the next Tuesday. The tournament was "you lose, you're out style," and even though our coach told the girls that they weren't the worst he'd ever seen (allegedly, I wasn't there in the mornings to actually hear him say this), in no way did we expect to win any games.

"Go Tagorgeous!! Do it for all the samosas in India!!"

So as Tuesday loomed closer we practiced almost every afternoon and were feeling semi-confident. We showed up to our game on Tuesday in total style, all wearing our hideously matching SIP polos we were given and black leggings. As fate would have it, we had 13 girls ready to play, but only 11 players are ever on the field. I was the first to volunteer to sit out, seeing as I didn't commit myself to go to any of the practices and would've only been a hindrance on the field anyway. I designated myself official bag and water girl and cheered 'til I was hoarse. A little into the game some more Tagorians came with signs to cheer us on. We may have been the oddest group there, but we absolutely had the most spirit.
Despite the fact that we were a bunch of white girls who had been playing cricket for only a week, we played a really good game! I mean, we still lost, but only by 4 points! The referee/announcer said he was really impressed by us and told us that there would be another tournament in March. So hopefully we'll regroup, and I'll actually practice, so we can make a come back.

da Ladys

This month has also been FULL of birthdays! Marianna's was on Jan. 13th, mine on the 20th, Trudy's on the 24th, and Terence has on on February 11th. A whole bunch of us went out for dinner on Marianna's birthday and the following Friday a group of us went to a "Cuban" club for my birthday. The five of us from last semester (minus a guy named Kevin) went and it was a lot of fun. Of course, I say this retroactively because there's a lot of that night I can't remember. Trudy and Marianna bought me a flaming shot, then Terence one-up-ed them and bought me a bigger flaming shot! It was fun, but I can't see myself repeating the event.

Flaming Shot #2

That Sunday myself, Trudy, Marianna, and Connor went for lunch at this German bakery we discovered then we went to Snow World!!! It was by far the most ridiculous thing I've ever payed money to do, but it was still fun. Its basically just this huge indoor area that they pump full of artificial snow, filled with fake snow people, sleds, and about a million rubber balls. Once you get your ticket, you enter into the "preparation room" at your allotted time, where you and about 75 others are given identical red or blue coats, boots, and gloves. Then you have an hour to spend in the magic of Snow World!! We left after about 45min since we were not dressed appropriately for the -5 degrees celsius the room is kept at, but we had a good time.

SNOW WORLD!!!

That next weekend, nearly everyone left Tagore to go on some sort of trip. Since the gang that was here last semester isn't doing as much traveling this semester, we were part of the approximately 15 people left at Tagore. That Friday night, the 11 girls that were here grouped up and went to a "ladies night" at a club called Liquids. Basically, from 8:30-10 we wouldn't be charged a cover fee and all the drinks were free.  We got there around 8:45 and left at 10:30 and it was kind of a shit show, albeit a fun shit show. I think at least half the girls that went puked, either at the club, in the cab, or back at Tagore, and thankfully I was not one of those ladies. The next day I don't think a single one of us actually left Tagore and we were all in various stages of hungover, sprawled throughout the common and tv room.
God, I really should've broken this post up into 2 posts, but now I'm nearly done!
The last memorable event of the 3 and a half weeks I've been back took place at a house warming party last Friday. Two of the SIP girls, one from Sweden and one from Canada, opted to not live in Tagore and got an apartment really close to campus. So on Friday they threw a party and invited all of Tagore and some other friends they'd met in classes. The party was really fun and we didn't even stay too late, but for some reason I took it upon myself to drink the entire, small-ish bottle of gin I brought. I was drunk.
As we were walking back the group I was with split up, and I joined the group going to the rock temple that I've always passed but never gone into. We walked inside and everything was fine, until drunk Harper decided she needed to go bouldering. I swear to god, if I had been sober and had my climbing shoes on everything would've been fine, but I didn't, so it wasn't.
I did not successfully make it on top of the rock I was climbing, and when I fell off I landed really badly on my left foot. I sat there for a while, but then got up and limped back to campus. Predictably, I've been told that I didn't allow anyone to help me walk back, which I'm sure did more damage to my already swollen ankle. Once I got back to my room and properly looked at it, it became fairly evident that I needed to seek medical help. My ankle was 2-3 times its normal size, had already bruised to blue and purple, and had a huge knot bulging off the left side. However, I was drunk so I went to sleep.

da bum foot

I woke up on Saturday totally fine, but when I tried to get out of bed I literally fell on my face, since my left leg could support NONE of my weight. So I laid there for a while and kind of tried to hop around my room, but it was comically frustrating. After about 15minutes Marianna came bursting into my room ready to help. Evidently, I had sent her a plea for help the previous night, informing her that we should probably go to the hospital. She helped me get dressed and after lunch she, Terence, and I went to the hospital.
Overall, the experience was more comical than anything just because of how fucking helpless I am. I got an xray at the hospital, so its definitely not fractured, but for all of yesterday I really couldn't use my left leg at all. It's been better today and I can manage to walk on it, but I just look like a cripple and it takes me forever to do anything. Really, I think this will just be a learning experience and hopefully it will encourage future me to ask for help when I need it.
So today, due to my bum ankle, I could not attend Hyderabad's first Pride Parade/Festival with everyone else, so I've been at Tagore... all alone... blogging... and watching the paint dry, metaphorically that is.

Home for the Holidays

This past October, while everyone was beginning to figure out their winter break plans, I was utterly befuddled. Coming into the semester I had every intention of staying in India for my full 10months, however, I had no idea what I wanted to do with myself for the month we had off over Christmas.

I had no problem traveling by myself, but after I looked at all my possibilities I discovered that the only place I really wanted to go was the Himalayas. 

Well, even if you hardly know me you probably know that I am not a creature suited for cold climates, so the Indian Himalayas in December was probably not the place for me. I also wanted to travel somewhere I hadn’t been before, which basically takes out all of Rajasthan. Then I considered volunteering somewhere for the entire month, that way I could really become a part of a community and develop a routine, and so forth. However, all of the places that I investigated required me to pay to volunteer for them, and a lot of the places asked for American dollars, so that quickly became out of my budget.

Unlike my Norwegians, all of my friends are poor and have families that care about them and want them to be home for Christmas, so I didn’t even have anyone to tour around India with. I considered tagging along with the Norwegians and their Norwegian friends that were coming, but I decided I would ultimately be too American for them, so I nixed that idea too.
About midway through October my mom emailed me in a continuing plea for me to come home for Christmas. For the first time, this actually began to seem like an option. Once I told her that I was considering it she responded by saying she would pay for my ticket and we could take my dad by complete surprise! Being the daddy’s girl I am I generally said “fuck it” and booked a round trip home (using Cheapoair.com, which sounds super sketchy but they have some good prices).

As fall semester came to a close I got more and more excited about coming home. Now that I’d let it come a possibility, and it was actually happening, I was extremely excited to get home! I missed my animals and my friends and America dammnit! I had a mental list of all the food I was going to eat and had an actual list of all the food/products that the people who weren’t going home for Christmas needed.
Not only was I going to surprise my dad, but I had also decided to surprise one of my best friends, Keli. I probably told a total of 5 people about my return home. My mother reacted differently. She told my entire family, all her friends, and my grandmother’s surgeon, who, coincidentally, is my dad’s best friend. I have no idea how word didn’t get back to my dad, but my secret was somehow still safe.

According to my mom, my dad was handling my “not coming home for Christmas” very poorly. He too had tried to bribe me to come home, offering trips to Disney World and even a new car, but I continued to decline and “assured” him that I was going to travel up north with my Norwegians. My dad didn’t take this well. Apparently he would regularly stomp around the house and declare that “there would be no Christmas this year!” because I wouldn’t be home. My poor little brother began to get his feelings hurt since he, apparently, wasn’t reason enough to celebrate Christmas. Moments like this make me wonder how he sometimes feels knowing that I’m the favorite child, but can you blame my parents? I’m obviously the better choice.
Also, if anyone has ever wondered why I stomp and whine until I get my way, at least we now all know who I get it from.
Finally, I was in Varanasi, readying myself to say goodbye to my wonderful friends from last semester before I went back to Hyderabad to catch a flight back to good ole’ Nashvegas. However, as I think I alluded to in my last post, I failed to make my train back to Hyderabad. The same train, leaving the next day, was totally full and since it was a 29hr train ride I basically didn’t have enough time to get back to Hyderabad in order to catch my flight out of the country.

Long story short, I had to call my mom and have her get me a ridiculously expensive ticket from Varanasi to Hyderabad, but there was really no other option. So after she has transferred me the money and I bought the ticket, I sent her an email confirming the ticket purchase and thanking her again, ending the email with “see you Friday!” It would be my downfall.
Once I got back to Tagore, in Hyderabad, my mom had responded to my email saying that my dad had seen the last email I sent her and saw that I wrote “see you Friday!” My mom fessed up to our plan, but alas, our long, carefully schemed surprise was ruined.

There's rarely enough room for me on my bed.

I actually think that it was probably better this way. If I appeared back at home on Friday unannounced and totally took my dad by surprise, I wouldn’t have been able to handle it if he had begun to cry. I would’ve just slowly backed out of the room, then the house, and would’ve sought refuge in a very public place until it was safe to return home, once all of the feelings had been suppressed back to their usual depth beneath the soul. I mean, that’s how all families deal with shit, right?

But I was back home and it was great. Within 10minutes of being home I was on the end of the couch with Lucky on my lap, Obie next to me, and Huck on the other end. I went to bed that night (with Chrysanthemum next to my head, Obie at my feet and Lucky on my legs) and continued to sleep for the next 18hours. The only thing I had left to do was go to Maryville the following Tuesday to surprise Keli.

My plan was to just show up at her dorm and invite her out to dinner, like nothing was unusual about my appearance, however I had agreed to meet with my advisor at 3 that afternoon. My mission, which was to walk into Thaw, get to Dr. Henson’s office, and then leave Thaw without ANYONE seeing me, would require a lot of stealth and espionage, but I was prepared.

I drove my mom’s Prius to Maryville, since my car is hideously recognizable, parked on the side of Thaw, and went in through the side door. I cautiously walked down the hall, passed three people, none of whom I recognized. However, despite my lack of recognition, one of the three people I passed apparently recognized me and waved. I waved back, smiled, and wondered where/if we had ever met. 

I had my meeting, met up with my man, had a very enjoyable afternoon, then, once evening approached, went to collect Keli for dinner (I had been in contact with her roommates, so I knew she was free). I walked up to her apartment, knocked on her door, and when she answered she screamed “I knew it!!” then shut the door on my face.

She eventually reopened it, we hugged, we laughed, we cried, and we collected Hayden and went to Tomato Head. Apparently the ONE girl that recognized me sent out a single text alerting Hayden’s girlfriend to my sudden reappearance on campus. She told Hayden, who told Keli, who then drove around the parking lots on campus to see if she could recognize my car. I mean, I literally saw THREE students for the hour I was in Thaw and with a single text my months of planning had been compromised. Damn you small liberal arts schools, damn you.

Other than seeing friends, I did nothing for the entirety of my break, which was exactly what I wanted. I did do a lot of eating though. I mean, I think the month I was home was the first time since I went through puberty/developed a body image that I ate anything and everything without a single thought or care. There was no inner dialogue of “Harper, you’ve had enough sweets today. Why don’t you eat some carrots?” or “Harper, you’re not actually hungry, you just want to eat that. Put it down.”

BFFFs

I ate cake AND carrots. I didn’t put it down. I ate continuously for the whole month I was home and didn’t give three fucks about it. I gained all the weight back that I lost in India and then some, but did I care? Nope. And it was great.

While I was home I saw The Hobbit twice, which was wonderful (says the LotR nerd). I caught up with my three best friends since pre/elementary-school. We had an unofficial MLK c/o ’09 reunion on December 27^th, which turned out to be tons of fun. Approximately 50(?) people showed up and it was great to see how everyone had changed (or didn’t) for the better (or worse).

The next day I got to hang out (babysit) with Jack(6) and Knox(3). I’ve babysat Jack since he was 2, so I have a lot invested in this little guy’s well being. Knox was born while I was backpacking in Asia, so I don’t know him as well, but he’s basically just a big ball of little-boy and continually cracks me up. I’ve always known Jack would love Legos once he was old enough, so now that he’s in kindergarten I got him a set for Christmas.

Well, apparently this was the first “real” set he’d gotten (according to Jack) and he absolutely loved it. I figured I’d have to help him read through the little instruction booklet to put the dump truck and explosive set together, but he took to it like a freakin’ fish takes to water and I think I had to help him like once when he accidentally skipped a page. He never ceases to amaze me. Next thing I know he’ll be reading me books instead, and that will be my cue to start having my own babies or buying my first batch of cats. I got Knox some Duplos, which he liked, but he was far more interested in Mickey’s Christmas Carol, which was understandable.

For New Year’s Eve, Bowen and myself went up to Keli’s boyfriend’s cabin for a few days. We shot off fireworks, guns, and played rook. There was one day where I woke up at 11, got coffee and ate entire bag of puppy chow, then went back to bed until 3. Fun was had by all.
I was scheduled to go back to Hyderabad on January 7^th, and even though I had a great time being home, I was ready to get started on my spring semester. Even though I still don’t quite know how to put it into words, I really missed India while I was gone. 

At home, people would ask me to tell them about all of my “adventures,” but I just had no idea what to say. I ended up talking a lot about the cows, which I did miss a lot, but it’s really hard to describe India to people who have never experienced it. God, I hate saying that because I know how pretentious I must sound, but it doesn’t make it any less true.

Traveling opens a person up to new and different worlds and perspectives, but India isn’t just a different world, it’s a whole different universe! I’ve come to the conclusion that no one, regardless of caste/socio-economic class or heritage, lives in India; you have to survive India. 

I mean, it is hard to live here, especially being a young, white, ginger woman. While its a general consensus that America is a patriarchal society, just saying that in India is laughable, just because it’s so damn obvious. Three facts about India: 1) It runs on Indian Standard Time 2) It’s the world’s largest (most populous) democracy 3) It’s a patriarchal society. 

My guy friends here have no problem going off and traveling on their own, using couchsurfing and having great experiences, but you just cannot do that being a woman. India can be so backwards; they’ve had a woman prime minister, something the US still hasn’t managed, but whenever a group of us go out the rickshaw drivers and waiters always direct all of their questions toward the men in our group. 

This is definitely a tangent that arguably doesn’t have anything to do about my holiday back home, but the thing I hate most about India is that I’m not just a “person,” I am a women and I am white, and here that makes a difference in every aspect of life.
I can’t put into words what I like about India, because I do really like it here. Maybe I don’t know. But that’s clearly a goal for this semester, to find out what about this huge subcontinent makes me keep coming back.

Me, Sabina, Mo @ reunion

Mony, Me, Maddie, Mo @ reunion

Going to the park is very serious business

I miss them every second of every day.
Yes, I will die alone with 30 cats.