(OK, seriously, sorry for the blizzard of posts this morning, but the internet is tricky here and I'm currently on a roll so I'm going for it.)
So I may have mentioned to some of you that I was planning on adopting local clothing for practical reasons: it is designed for this weather and made of breathable fabrics ... but you have yet to see any pictures of either of us in our "daily" wear.
Thankfully before I got here Allen was able to get a handful hand-me-down (mix-and-match) salwar kameez for me from some of the ladies who left after the summer program. Actually, our whole apartment has been stocked with some of the most random items that students leaving the summer program could not justify bringing back to the States but were unwilling to throw away -- anyone need sunscreen? We have about 7 bottles of it.
Most all the time you'll find me in the full salwar kameez; flowy pants, with a loose long tunic, and a dupatta (scarf) to protect my modesty.
The pants really are the funniest part. I remember frequently complaining with ladies back home that clothes never fit and that sizes are confusing because they change from store to store. Here ladies clothes shopping is a "breeze": Standard sizes XS, S, M, L, XL, with pants that can accomodate any width. Eat to your heart's content!
While you'll definitely find (younger) ladies wearing Western clothes, they are rather the exception to the rule. Women here generally wear the full suit (salwar kameez), or a sari, although in prodominently Muslim Lucknow that seems to also be less common.
Men on the other hand, generally are found in Westnern clothes, and usually only dress in the male version of the salwar kameez for special occasions.
We're making a small joke in the picture Allen took: just as western dress is uncommon on anyone but younger women - men generally do not wear T-shirt. So most of the time you will see them in long pants, a tucked in button down shir, a belt (that is too big), and glasses, with a fancy pen in the shirt pocket. Very respectable looking.
For the most part we do our best to blend in, meaning long pants for Allen and salwar kameez plus dupatta for Nikki.
So I mentioned in the previous post that we were invited to celebrate Durga Puja on Sunday at the home of one of Allen's fellow tabla students...
He didn't just invite us - he invited all the students that had come with us the night before, which was amazingly generous. Three other students joined us to go to this family home in the old part of the city.
Again, I don't really know what any of us had been expecting, but India surprised us yet again.
The family home, which had been established by Shiva's grandfather, and was attached to the first Bengali temple in the area, of which he was the establishing priest. The temple is dedicated to Kali, the goddess of time and change, and it right off the main courtyard of the family home. So immediately upon arrival we were ushered in to celebrate a puja with various community members. Shortly afterward we were ushered upstairs for lunch.
Before I begin the description of lunch (which was amazing), I'll note something we didn't realize till we finally departed about an hour and a half later: being that this was the community temple the family was hosting puja and lunch for everyone in the community ... so as we were leaving more people were streaming in, sort of a revolving door of worshipers. I'm having a hard time thinking of good equivalent - best I can suggest is it was like those huge Italian Sunday brunches we have some times had in South Jersey, where people come in, people go out, but there is always tons of wonderful food and merrymaking.
Just imagine the vast quantities of food that were necessary for this arrangement and it is not hard to imagine that they had (apparently, because I didn't see it otherwise there would be a picture of it) bathtub sized pots for cooking in the back ... knowing this will help you better understand how the food was then served ...
But I digress ... what was really important was the generosity of spirit in this moment. This family, who have shown their friendship and camaraderie through a simple tabla class, opened their home to us strangers to share with them and their community a wonderfully holy and friendship-forging event. I feel like I'm not articulating myself well; but I'm finding it hard to put into words the feeling of openness and affection that I've witnessed in my short time here. I don't want to say that it was hard to accept this very generous hospitality - but it really touched me, and to show our thankfulness for all of their generosity, I was able to give them pictures and video from their son's performance the previous evening... a gift that was most graciously received.
OK - on the the description of the meal: an amazing veg (vegetarian) with all the staples - dhal, potatoes, and green vegetables, with a rice pudding for dessert ....but the true novelty of the experience was of eating off banana leaf plates with our fingers (check out the slide show below, link here):
All of the worshipers were lined up cross-legged along the wall, each with a 'plate' in front of him/her, and several gentlemen with large silver buckets were walking around dolling out dollops of food onto our plates ... if they saw you getting low on anything they came back and asked if you wanted more ... the food was piping hot and we learned that to cool it down you had to gingerly stick your fingers in and spread the small pyramid out on your plate.
I can imagine what your thinking: "Why?! after you both got so sick would you do something so potentially risky!?"
Good question: I guess our guts said it seemed OK.
No really, I think we all collectively agreed after the fact that we couldn't imagine another space where we would have felt comfortable enough to eat in this manner, coming so recently off of some pretty miserable eating experiences. But everything seemed above board and given especially how scalding hot all the food was when it was placed on our plates, we all left feeling the meal had been properly prepared.
The family happily invited us all back for Diwali in mid-October, so who knows, we may be back again soon (hopefully).
So, you may or may not have noticed our absence from the inter-webs this past week - I assure you it is not from lack of trying. We had a really fun weekend, with lots of stories, with bal cool (of course) accompanying video and pictures that I'm hoping to share with you soon ... but we've hit a snag: internet connectivity seems to be down all over the city. The internet in our apartment just stopped working this weekend and still hasn't recovered. The internet at school (where I've snuck now) is running at a snail's pace ...
My guess is that the over 100 degree weather for the past couple of days has just melted the wires ... but that is just a guess.
Fingers crossed we'll be up to full speed in the not so very distant future and you'll see some of the crazy things we've been up to.
(Thankfully I was able to sneak online again today...)
The festival of Dussehra comes in various other names throughout this part of the world, but the purpose is to celebrate the triumph of good over evil. It is a 10 day festival ... that also happens to coincide with the Bengali celebration of Durga Puja.
We happily were invited to events celebrating both this weekend, because of Allen's tabla playing friends.
On Friday night we saw a drum and dance performance coordinated by an adult community group to celebrate Dussehra, below is a slide show of some of the performances (Link to photos here). My favorite part of this experience, beside it being in a local auditorium (imagine a church community center) with loads of families watching, there was this one little girl who kept running to the front of the stage to dance along with the dancers. Adorable!
Obviously, Allen was most interested in the tabla players - but accompanying them was what we had originally thought was a xylophone, but turned out to be a man playing cups of water (video below)
At first we thought they were using a xylophone in this drum performance for Dussehra in Lucknow ... but it turns out he was using cups of water.
On Saturday night we were invited to come see the performance of Shivargha, one of Allen's fellow tabla students perform at the Durga Puja festivities in Janta Park. The whole thing was pretty awesome, attached is a slideshow of some of the pictures I took. It totally wasn't what we had been expecting, although in honesty, I don't really know what any of us were expecting.
We were as much a spectical as the performances -- 12 gore (foriegners) showing up, some of the other language students came with us ... but really the whole thing was so big even we seemed to disappear into the crowd. They had this huge tent that had ceiling fans and chandeliers inside!
There were some more dance performances - this time by young children, again, very adorable. (Link to slideshow here)
Then Shiva came on, and he kicked some serious tabla-butt ... Allen tells me that Shiva is the best tabla player in Uttar Pradesh in the under 15 year old category, which is a pretty big deal. Here he is rocking out in the video below:
After all the merry-making, Shiva's father invited us all to his house for lunch to celebrate the Durga Puja with his family on Sunday ... we took him up on the offer, and I'll post pictures and stories in the next post.
(if you're getting this post via email, you'll need to click the link to watch the video)
Here is a short video of our flat in Lucknow. It is a very comfortable space in a pretty building near the "center" of town ... not bad. We have this very nice terrace that Allen keeps insisting he wants to have people over to fly kites (local pastime of children) and drink beer (not a pastime for local children).
Many many thanks for the outpouring of sympathy and advice related to our "difficulties" the past week or so.
So much of it was so pertinent that I thought I would repost some of it here (in case any of you are still contemplating coming to visit): - Amex can give you recommendations for hospitals before you leave, and generally as a foreigner you can get into the more expensive and english-speaking hospitals - Don't drink tap water. The main thing is not to drink or eat anything that hasn't been proactively sterilized (boiled and filtered being the best way -- but when in doubt just buy sealed bottles of water, it is ALWAYS worth the money). For example, we keep a new water bottles in the bathroom to use when we brush our teeth. - Never eat raw vegetables. Eat only the insides of fruit and don't cut it with a knife not certified clean. - Generally just be proactive about germs!
These things are pretty easy to keep to with success when you're a tourist - Allen and I had no issues when we came in January for our honeymoon. We were visiting tourist places, staying at tourist hotels, and eating at tourist restaurants: all places that understand the immune-needs of foreigners, and who have something at stake to maintain their reputation in the Lonely Planet guides.
That said, our best guess is that we just got something bad to eat at a local restaurant or some water got in the mouth during a shower or the list goes on. There is a very zen saying amongst the students here that this sort of thing is bound to happen at some point (if not more than once) during your long-term stay and it is just one more thing to deal with, like the heat.
Thankfully we're both on the mend and as my mom put it to me in an email the other day "after this, the rest of the stay will seem like a breeze, right."
So Allen was on the mend yesterday, which considering the ordeal he went through was a wonderful development ...
So imagine our surprise when I wake us up at 4:30am this morning with "Delhi Belly" --- argh! We weren't fooling around this time so I promptly took our emergency azithromycin (antibiotics) ...
But I was still delirious all day today and felt as if I had a cement brick in my stomach. Not fun.
This afternoon some of the other students Allen studies with thought that my symptoms might suggest a parasite (NO!) ... so we took my temperature and I was reading 101.6 ... crap.
Allen launched into action and took me to a local clinic where the doctor said she didn't think it was a parasite (though she didn't seem all that concerned about my fever, 'It happens') and diagnosed me as just having food poisoning like Allen. She sent me home with three days of a cocktail of antibiotics, pro-biotics, and antacids.
I still have a fever and my heart is racing (over 100 bpm) ... but fingers crossed regardless of whether it is a parasite or gastro intestinitis the antibiotics should run their course and at least bring the fever down.
(sigh)
I don't really know what to say about all this. It is as if this country is intentionally challenging us - which is ridiculous .... or is it?! Mwaha ha ha ha ha (rubbing hands conspiratorially)!
...that was the title of an email my mother-in-law sent to me after telling her about the insanity of our weekend.
We had a lot of fun setting up the apartment, seeing a bollywood movie ("Dil Bole Hadippa") about a woman who cross dresses to play cricket for the Indian national team - very worth a view, watching workmen install our washing machine (yeah!), and meeting my new "boss" (though the project itself won't get off the ground for the next 3 weeks because of paperwork complications --- ah, India)
That was the light-hearted side of our weekend ... the more challenging (to put it lightly) parts included Allen having to go to the hospital for dehydration and Nikki's ezcema exploding in a bad way...
His insides... It happened two nights ago during our dinner with my new boss. Allen stomach was upset, but he didn't really seem sick, just as if something he had eaten had upset him and once it was out of his system it would get better ... But even after an initial purge it wasn't getting better, it was only getting worse and worse. He wasn't able to hold anything down, not rehydration solution, not even water. By 11 he was in a really bad way and I was at a loss for what to do ... Allen didn't think he needed to go to the hospital until the morning, but thankfully when we called the director of his Institute ("in case of emergencies...") he offered to help coordinate a taxi to get us there (hallelujah!) ... I wasn't comfortable making the suggestion myself because I didn't know enough of (any, really) of the language to manage to get us anywhere safely.
Language ended up being more of an issue than either of us had expected --- but amazingly, despite his delirium Allen was able to speak like a star. Seriously, he was talking with the driver and doctors (for all I could tell) very intelligibly, which I can't say I would have been able to do in a similar situation. It was so scary how little I was able to communicate, so I thank our lucky stars that Allen was cogent enough for that... though he related to me after the fact that he probably sounded like you would expect anyone sick to speak, slow and haltingly ---- but that he was able to speak in Hindi/Urdu at all was what I considered a miracle, because I don't know how we would have gotten through this ordeal his language skills. Yes, there was one doctor who spoke (impeccable) English, but he hardly spent more than 15mins tops with us during our 5 hour visit to the emergency room.
Visiting the hospital emergency room was an experience I hope to never repeat (in India) again if I/we can help it. I helped Allen walk to the the emergency room of the hospital, after we had both removed our shoes before entering. It took me a while to get anyone's attention to get him to a bed or even to attend to him ... frankly, despite how quite the whole floor was (see picture) I felt that generally the staff couldn't give two shakes about taking care of Allen. Look, I understand that he was only dehydrated and not bleeding profusely or injured with a broken body part -- but frankly, given all the screaming we could hear from other parts of the ward, I'm not disposed to think that they cared to much about anyone else there either.
Maybe he wasn't "important enough," I don't know, but between him being ignored and no one speaking to me it just felt like we were very much alone.
They had me run to the pharmacy three or four times to buy the medicine that Allen was being given ... here instead of just one bill at the end of our stay, they will charge you each time something is used and have the family member (or person responsible for you) run to the pharmacy to pay for the replacement syringe, solution, medicine, whatever ... thankfully because all Allen needed was essentially saliene solution, we were able to cover all the costs with cash in hand, but I was worried each time I went to the pharmacy because I couldn't tell by the slip of paper I was bringing to them how much any of those items cost.
We were there between midnight and 5 am, because to stay any longer would have meant being admitted ... which on the surface doesn't seem like it would have been a bad thing for him to have gotten more rehydration solution intravenously, which we obviously weren't able to do at home and seemed to be making a marked improvement in both his coloring and his consciousness ... But no one was really paying him any attention and starting at about 1:30/2am the bugs started arriving.
It started with finger-digit-sized beetles running along the wall. Not something to freak out about, but unnerving nonetheless. Slowly they started getting bigger, with index-finger sized crickets just wandering through the ward without a care in the world (remember everyone has their shoes off in this part of the building). I was noticing on each of my trips to the pharmacy that crickets en masse were coming through the main door of the building, most were being squashed right there (if someone cared to do it) but some few brave through were able to venture all the way to the emergency room ... I would have to dodge this mass cemetary of crickets every time I went to the pharmacy (I was so thankful we were smart enough to think of putting on sneakers and socks before leaving the house)
By dawn we were out of there, bill paid, and on our way back to the apartment, a little worse for wear - but under the circumstances it was MUCH better that we had gone and gotten some fluids in Allen than not. I was just inscensed at their inattentiveness to his needs and was thankful that he could finally rest (properly) at home.
Her outsides... For those of you know know of the trials that I've gone through with my skin, it should be no real surprise that between the stress of the hospital experience, coupled with the heat, and discomfort I was feeling at not being able to sit down properly for 5 hours (I only had a stool to sit on, which I took myself because no one was offering me anything) ... that by the time we came back I had a full body episode of ezcema.
I don't know what ezcema (or whatever this is called) is like for anyone else, but for me, my whole body will break out in mini-boils that are extremely itchy and sensitive to touch. I'll spare you from the pictures I took of what they look like (documentating the disease), but it isn't pretty.
If there is one "happy" thing we can take away from this experience I think it is that we have a better understanding of what are the causes or irritants that make my skin worse.... HEAT. Plain and simple - I say that, but it has taken years to even get this deep of an understanding because (obviously) I do my best to avoid situations where my skin will freak out.
We're pretty confident now (95% certain) that the cause is a dramatic change in temperature that my body isn't initially able to adjust to. I'd ball-park it at a 20 degree difference in temperature between NYC and Lucknow, and 30+ degree difference in the sun. My body can't take it so, it freaks out --- but we've found that if I soak in cold water (in a kiddy wading pool I brought with me) that my skin's temperature drops dramatically and the redness and the swelling goes down markedly ... Just for clarification, I don't have a feever and am not, outwardly-seeming, sick ... but my skin is always hot - most likely as a consequence of the reaction my skin is going through.
The real question is - will my skin stop freaking out as the weather gets colder? will it get worse again as it heats up in the summer? or will I be aclaimating at that point so it is not that bad?
We're not gonna know the answers to any of these questions for some time --- but I gotta admit, I'm nervous about how bad it has gotten so quickly. I mean, I wasn't so naive not to expect something to happen, but ... well, I didn't expect this.
------
So, we've been better. But we're not dead, right? Just kidding. We're OK now, much much better (behot acha) ... but we're laying low for the next little while, just enjoying our washer* and eating peanut butter and banana sandwhiches.
*Note on the washer, which I thought you would all appreciate. They put it in the second bathroom - and bathrooms in India gernally (though usually not in tourist hotels) will just have a shower head and a drain in the floor -- very practical, and easy to clean. But, for the washer, they set it up to take advantage of the floor drain and just use it for the washer as well so it looks something like this:
So much for multi-tasking; taking a shower while standing in laundry drain water doesn't really look like it is in our cards...
... I had the Mary Tyler Moore theme song stuck in my head as I headed into Lucknow airport ... I made it, after 27 hours and 35 minutes of "traveling" (either in the air or waiting in the airport).
Thankfully, besides having a sore backside from all the sitting, the flights were uneventful and the transfers went much easier than I expected.
Settling into Lucknow has been a bit of a shock - to put it lightly. It's very hot here (though not all that humid). But our apartment is comfortable and our neighbors are really friendly ... because of all of Allen's preparations, it feels like I've just fallen right into place here...
But it feels like I'm really disconnected from "reality" or what life was like back in the States, it is like I'm living a totally different life....
Shortly after my arrival I found out that a dear relative had passed away very suddenly and unexpectedly ... and even though I've been hearing from family, I feel so far away. Maybe it is because I'm not online and connected all day long ... I don't know, but ... it feels weird being here.
I'm sure things will get easier, once I've spent enough time here and found a routine, but right now I sort of feel like I'm in Wonderland.
I realize I've basically dropped off the planet this summer. For me this summer was an endless roller coaster of events and emotions: highs and lows, successes and failures, life and death, gain and loss, hope and despair ...
Looking back on all the things I've accomplished this summer, I'm surprised (and so thankfully) that (almost) everything came together in the end. I was able to refinance on our apartment; I found and prepare the logistics for a wonderful person to look after our home for us; put together the finances so we could afford this trip; patched together all the logistics to get me to India (health insurance, medicines, doctor visits, NYU internship credits, etc...)... amongst other things.
But I would never have made it through this summer without help. If it hadn't been for my family and friends, who lent a helping hand on so many different occasions* ... I don't think I could have accomplished half as much.
Honestly, it was too much for me to handle. Most of the time I was just overwhelmed by how much there was to do -- and how hard it was to get anything done. No joke, most of the time I was just chasing people to get them to do their jobs correctly the first time - or sending them a complaint to fix things - or following up that my requests had been met - or .... basically kicking everyone in the pants to do what they technically get paid to do ... that felt like almost a full-time job in itself.
I have a lot of regrets about this summer - most important of which was I wish I had been more social. I mean, I'm leaving for a year and the majority of my time was spent with a small nucleus of people. But, even in hindsight, I don't think I could have changed anything: I was mostly too overwhelmed by what was going on to want to talk or socialize. Knowing what was ahead of me and all the things I still had to get done stunned me into silence** ... talking about it would just open the door to all my anxieties - and so rather than let anything out, I just stayed in.
There were bright spots for sure: seeing Qawwali music with a Well Woman and drinking milkshakes with a Memoirst ... meeting my third cousin's baby son (I think I got the genealogy of that one right) ...
... but on the whole, this was an incredibly difficult summer for me. A good friend (when I mentioned writing this post) said that I have nothing to feel bad about - I got stuck in a bad situation, things didn't work out perfectly, but that's not my fault. But if I'm honest with myself, I do feel guilty about closeting myself away, even though it felt very necessary at the time. I feel like I let people down by disappearing, and selfishly I wanted to write this post rather than trying to explain myself individually: I wouldn't have been able to handle that conversation more than ... ever.
So what I did on my summer "vacation" was feel mostly disappointment for not living up to my own (unreasonably high) expectations of myself, punctuated with moments of real happiness with loved ones - who were able to make me smile, if only for a little while.
My flight to Lucknow starts on Wednesday - so here's to hoping that the difficulties are behind me and all that's left is the excitement of the upcoming adventures.
-------- *Special shout out goes to my brother for being a real rock of support for me this summer. **I'm not exaggerating.
This short video is from when I went to Banaras in July and I met one of the two families that carves wooden drums there. A few things are interesting to note. The guy chipping away at the inside of the drum is making sure that the interior of the drum is uneven. It is important that the vibrations don't bounce back directly. so it is hard to use a machine to scoop out the insides in an uneven way. In the final frame of the picture, you can see the lathe in the background. There was no electricity at that time, so I didn't get to see it in action. The guy in the blue Loongi (sarong like wrap) has been hacking at the uneven tree trunks to make them more or less uniform so that they can be put in the lathe. I am excited to have already met them. I have yet to meet the tabla wood workers of Lucknow, but hope that will happen soon.
So I haven't posted about traffic yet, and it seems like something I ought to do. Basically there is no concept of "right of way" here, and I have to admit that bothers me. In the states if you approach a T intersection and you see cars moving, you will assume to stop and then go when there is an opening in the traffic - say if you were pulling out of a gas station for example. In India, you would only do that if you were smaller than the traffic coming. If you are in a large enough vehicle, then waiting is not necessary. Subsequently if you are on the main road. AND on a bicycle, then you always have to yield all the time no matter whether or not you got anywhere first. It's a system that takes some getting used to. Basically you will always be cut off all the time so deal with it. AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!
Monsoon is a tough season for tabla makers, because many phases in the process involve waiting for the tabla head to dry before the next step in the process can happen. When there is no sun and really high humidity, everything dries much more slowly. Here's a snap of Mahfooz Sahib speeding up the process with fire.
I just thought i'd give you guys some more photos of my classes. I really like learning with the other Indian students. It's SO much better than private lessons. The students are of all ages. There is one guy (not in the picture)who has been learning since he was 4. He is now 14, but if you were to ask me I would say he looks and acts like he is 9 or 10. the way he snuggles with his Dad and Ustad-ji is just adorable. I wonder, why does teenage rebellion seem to not exist in India? Kids seem to stay sweet and innocent for much longer. Or at least that's my take.
Anyhow, between sitting on concrete all day making tabla, riding a bicycle that's too small for me, and then sitting on concrete in tabla class; my back and knees are starting to get a bit sore. But other than that I'm enjoying it.
I haven't posted in a long time about the whole host family thing, but I got offered another ketchup sandwich today for breakfast and decided the time had come. Aunti Ji raves about how great a cook she is, but man, when Pushpa has the day off it's rice and yogurt for dinner and ketchup sandwiches for breakfast.
and for those of you who are in doubt. here is a picture. Yes, that's untoasted fully bleached white bread smeered with ketchup and topped with Oyster Crackers. YUM!!!! Oh, and be careful with that bowl that looks like porridge. It's cold milk with some grain at the bottom and about a quarter of a cup of sugar. The real secret around here seems to be either add a tremendous amount of salt or a tremendous amount of sugar. No inbetweens.....
This morning, I quickly snapped a picture when Aunti Ji left the room, threw the ketchup sandwiches into the garbage, and came back. Maybe I'm just venting now, but another beef that I have is that I feel like when I am a guest in someone's house I should be offered the same food that they eat - whatever that is. I asked for fruit today, because I have noticed all last week that Uncle Ji and Pulkit have been having guava, pomegranate, and watermelon on a daily basis. The response was, "did I bring any fruit?" What's up with that? It'd be one thing if I didn't see that the refrigerator was full of fruit that looks like it's going to go bad in the next couple days. I'm SO ready to not be living in someone else's house!!!!!
The pants really are the funniest part. I remember frequently complaining with ladies back home that clothes never fit and that sizes are confusing because they change from store to store. Here ladies clothes shopping is a "breeze": Standard sizes XS, S, M, L, XL, with pants that can accomodate any width. Eat to your heart's content!
We're making a small joke in the picture Allen took: just as western dress is uncommon on anyone but younger women - men generally do not wear T-shirt. So most of the time you will see them in long pants, a tucked in button down shir, a belt (that is too big), and glasses, with a fancy pen in the shirt pocket. Very respectable looking.
