Photobomb

People often try to take a photo with you surreptitiously.

By surreptitiously, I mean that they stand 5 feet in front of you with a big grin as a friend takes their photo. You may treat this in a variety of ways, a few of which I have compiled as they have occurred to me.

• Smile and invite them over. After a polite conversation, ask for them to send you a copy of the photo.  
• Demand to be paid for your services as a walking local attraction.
• "100 rupees!"
• You may find yourself fighting the urge to whip out some distinctly obtrusive hand gestures. 
• Rather than giving into your bitter impulse, take it as an opportunity to practice the pranayama techniques you learned earlier that day.  
• ...or don't. Up to you.
•  Make the best photobomb face ever.
• Jenna Marbles face, anyone?
• Pull a Lemony Snicket.
• This requires cunning. Good luck.
• Pull out a camera of your own to return the favor. 
• Do the sorority squat.
• Start clapping for them. Cheer them on in the middle of their photoshoot. After all, who doesn't need a little encouragement?
• Smile and wave.

Personally, I like taking pictures with babies. The people here are often infatuated with tourists because they are so clearly not-of-this-world. The many invasive questions, the facebook requests, the laughter-- these are all part of sharing and discovering, and deserve to be understood in the manner in which they are intended. That said, boundaries are important. While it is important to understand that people here are unbelievably trusting, it is not always wise to return this level of trust in strangers.

Things that are Frowned Upon

Do Not:

• touch anyone/thing with your shoes or feet. 

• especially other feet.
• point your feet at anyone.
• point your feet at anything sacred.
• have dirty feet.
• use your left hand to accept, exchange, or pass items.
• use your left hand for basically anything.
•  begin one dish before finishing your first.
• say thank you needlessly.
• say please at all.
• refuse a gift. 
• barter badly. 
• pet the dogs. 
• pet the cats. 
• smile at the wrong time. 
• smile at male strangers.
• If female, do not travel after dark.
• If female, do not travel alone. 
• If female, do not travel to anywhere exciting or dangerous.
• unless you have the company of your husband or brother. 
• basically, avoid adventures unless in broad daylight with female friends or male companions.

Manners:

 Most people here are polite by the Indian standard. That means that no one says please or thank you. Everyone eats with their hands, but those who offer a cordial smile are usually met with a smile in return.

The best smiles here are the big, toothy grins you get from small children.

Other things that are totally normal:

Belching is not only common, but no one bats an eyelash. People will do it all the time. If someone belches at a restaurant, they may not even break eye contact with you and continue the conversation. Get used to it.

An empty street in Pune

You will be offered many things-- food, jewelry, a place to stay, phone numbers, safety tips-- simply because everyone can tell that you are foreign. Be sure to know who among these new friends expect you to pay, and who wish to convey only a kind gesture. 

There will be a day when you look down at your feet and see a catfish flopping toward you. Do not convey fear, surprise, or dismay. The locals will laugh.

If you are foreign, you will be stared at.

Staring is not only acceptable, it is normal. Sometimes, I play the staring game right back. Occasionally, I even win.

Beggars here will hit you. Don't react-- it is better for both of you to keep walking.

If you do react, use any word with clear diction. You do not need to raise your voice, but be firm. This is for your safety. 

The most obnoxious panhandlers are children. They WILL hold onto you and your clothing
for blocks.

If you are engaged by a particularly adamant panhandler, find a crowd to join. Shopkeepers and other visitors will not stand for this kind of assault.

Things to Mention Simply Because I have Noticed (and am not amused):

Do not be bothered if, when traveling with a male, other males speak almost exclusively to your male companion. This is the norm.

If female, males will not shake your hand unless you offer it to them. They will, however, shake your male companion's hand.

Because I do not like being left out, I will offer my hand to shake anyway. I will also introduce myself as an individual deserving of respect, and to include myself in male conversations.

Most males will not ask for your name unless they are flirting.

Most young men will flirt with you.

Only if not in the company of a male companion.

The men here either laugh and enjoy my forwardness or choose to exclude me more clearly.

I dig the dudes who include me because I subtly demand to be included. 

If you give a mouse a cookie...

Do not inspect any rashes, even of the benign nature, unless in the privacy of your own home.

I only say this because if you are show the wrong Indian man your rash, you will have the misfortune of seeing his.

That is all.

Grammar

The grammar of the signs posted in English here is endearingly tragic. Reading signs like these is like reading slam poetry transcribed by a distracted teen without the help of spell check.

 

 Avoid gossip. Do Worship.

What u r,what you eat.

What You eat,what you are. 

What you see,what you are.

What You listenWhat you are.

 

Lovably bad, isn't it?

It sometimes takes two readings, but I smile.  

A Rainy Walk Home

I wonder what it is that the children say to their parents
after rushing through the streets of Chinchwad
and into the familiar hold of home.

"Mama, I saw a foreign woman today.
Dark hair and skin like rice."

Giddy with excitement
and all because a young woman smiled.

Insight

    It is not quite 5pm here in Malavli, and the rains have begun again.It falls thickly now, beating at the roof and walls and sending the trees into a watery dance. The soil here, red and fine, is diluted by the rainfall, and soon everything will be tinged the dirty maroon of mud and dust.

     I had meant to begin this week with a description of my adventures since we've last spoken, but a lazy day in monsoon season is good at changing such things.Instead of the stories of my week, I want to talk to you about sadness, loneliness, and being alone.

     I counted today. It has been three and a half years since the last time I finished reading a work of fiction.

     Three and a half years, until today.

     The book itself was given to me by a friend who is challenging me to take things easier. I am grateful for his kindness, and for letting me read Sold by Patricia McCormick. It encompasses the story of a young girl sold into the sex trafficking industry, lost in an abyss of despair, of torment, and betrayal. She is strong and willful and alone, and her story is one of the most compelling pieces I've read.

     Today marks the first time in more than three years that I've read for leisure-- truly for the thrill of the immersion into fantasy-- and the first time in a long while that I've cried. I am not one to forsake work, nor am I one to recline in fantasy and illusion, and I am realizing that cleansing myself of these traits has proven to be one of the most debilitating choices I have made in my young life. Rare is it that a 20 year-old woman thinks of herself as an ancient, hobbling crone-- but this is the image that I have wrought of myself after having chosen to deny myself the luxury of youth. I am beginning to recognize this as a choice, and not a necessity, of my daily life.

     It is a difficult thing, the life that I live, but it does not have to steal my softness. I am not required to lose myself in the turmoil of work and studies, but can make the choice to recognize my own inspired nature and to revel in the life that I have been given.

     And so I have been sitting in this home that is still a stranger to me, in a country drowned by rain that teases at all its majestic colors, and I have spent an afternoon in another world, with another heart, and I have cried. I have hope again, and that is a kind discovery.

     I suppose the moral of the story is that when you find yourself very, very alone in a country in which you do not speak the language, in which it is not safe for you to walk the streets alone in the evenings and on the weekends, you will find yourself feeling sadness. I have been reminded of my brokenness here, and that it is going to be okay. 

     There is no hope for a future in which you run to the hills like a desert father. There is no salvation for those who do not ask for a gift. There is no sunshine for a person who is always waiting for rain. And so I will plant myself in this moment, ask the universe for a gift, and drink in the sunshine.I will make my own luck.

     Know that you are going to remember your weaknesses in the silence of travel. Know that you are going to find yourself desperate for the company of the familiar, and for the daydreams of what is not real. Know that you will find yourself missing something that you've never had, and know that you will come back to yourself again at the end.

     I will not let the heaviness of my heart keep me from my journey. I hope that you will do the same.

     Namaste. नमस्ते 

So, Today I Drank Distilled Cow's Urine

     Wednesday brought with it a visit to a local herbal farm known for its sustainable practices and unique medicinal concoctions. Upon entrance, I was welcomes by a herd of cattle making their way from grazing land to manure pen. Even the cows notice my whiteness. The tour that followed was a delight to the senses as well as the mind, and I was offered several mementos of the day by was of plant leaves and Indian fruit. Jam, by the way, is one of the most interesting foreign fruits I've ever come across. If you ever get the chance, I highly recommend giving one a try. 

     But really, though. The cows.

(The sound in this video is garbled, so you may want to watch without audio for the best view)

     It is no wonder that cows in India are so prized as to be thought of as too sacred to be slaughtered for meat. What the cows here provide allows for life to function—there is little to no waste. The milk produced can be drunk straight, but can also be used to make butter, cream, or ghee (“clarified” butter). More than milk, however, cow dung can be utilized to create manure to fertilize the land for crops. Cow urine is often used as a home treatment for a variety of ailments, and is generally seen as a wellness booster for the old and young alike. To visitors, this may sound unpalatable, but the locals continue to swear by its healing properties.

     And yes, I drank distilled cow's urine. I couldn't put words to the tingling sensation that accompanied swallowing it, but my mouth definitely took on a lighter taste afterwards. It was strangely...refreshing.  

     Ghee cows are rich brown in color, sleek in shape, and have a distinctive hump on their backs that mark them as cows that produce milk that is excellent for ghee production. Clarified butter is not necessarily butter as such, but rather the outcome of a long process of heating and separating curds from milk. For a better description, click here.

 

(My introduction to Ghee cows was being on the sideline of  the movement of the herd)

     These cows are not aggravated to produce more milk than they normally would for their calves, and so produce about half as much as a normal dairy cow here. Their caretaker, a kind man who spoke no English, explained to my teacher and me that he has named each of the cows, and each is able to respond to his name in turn. The younger ones, the calves of only 20 days or so, will come to nurse only when their names are called. Even their eyes are a soft brown. 

     The cow dung is collected and gathered in a small pit that captures the methane gas produced for the cooking and energy needs of the family that lives on this land. The dung is then transferred yet again to the manure tent, where it will sit with other organic compounds to create manure for fertilizer. After 54 days, the dung has been successfully changed into manure, and can then be used for the farmland. Cow urine is also extracted and distilled here so that it can be made into medications that aid in wellness and longevity. When drunk, it has a slight burn at the back of the mouth and down into the throat, but it is a warm taste that is surprisingly palatable. Ha!

      The farm itself is lush and green—the plants thrive in the red soil, and the rains that are beginning give life to the land. As we walked through the herb garden, the manager who led the tour offered us tastes of the herbs, most of which were meant for relieving colds and respiratory tract discomforts (a small blessing due to my own current ailment). From the mint and turmeric that we touched and ate, my favorites were by far the touch-me-not plant—a plant who reacts to stimulus applied to the back of the leaf’s stem by retracting its leaves—and a powerfully astringent flower that causes a cool tingling sensation when placed upon the tongue. Oh, it was a lovely visit. 

     The sugar cane here grows in thick stalks that climb to twice my height, if not more. During her childhood, Prafu would run through the thick forest of stalks while braving the cuts and scrapes that came with the thick, sharp leaves. Even as a child, she found thin stalks to bend and uproot in order to strip the leaves from the stalk and run her teeth along the center. This, in her words, is how the young children came to know sweetness—not from the refined sugar, but from the sugar cane itself that grew near to her.  


 

     Finally, I want to share with you one of the many ways that home has reached into my present. While touring the garden, I was introduced to the Arjun tree, which bears a bark-like fruit in the shape of a star. It is named for the warrior who has also given his name to my brother, and sent a pang through my heart at the thought of my family so many miles from this remarkable place. 

     Here's lookin' at you, kid

     Namaste.

     India greeted me with open, humid arms this morning. After a tumultuous flight from London to Mumbai, I was so excited to find my program coordinator and make my way from Mumbai to Malavli!

     Mumbai, the city that never sleeps, is always in motion. If it is not an autorickshaw spilling over with passengers, it's a packed city bus reeling through the streets. The air is filled with honking, and the chatter of the city is an absolute uproar.

     Malavli, a small town situated between Mumbai and Lonavla, is where many of the city people keep their vacation homes, as it is quieter and cooler than the cities themselves. The dirt here is just the same, but there are few crowds except by the train station.

     In any case, this was Monday's post that was never posted due to a loss of connectivity. I'll be catching up shortly, but to appease the need for posts today, I'll leave you with a photo that sums up my feelings:

London's Layover

     Hello from London, England!

     This Fourth of July has been unlike any other holiday in the history of my life. Upon first writing, it was 7:00am, and I had already been wandering the Heathrow airport for almost two hours. My sore shell of a body existed in a precarious balance between exhaustion and elation— I have now been here for five hours, and I am fighting the exhaustion that comes with being surrounded on all sides with noise and confusion. I am still holding on to my excitement, because this has been a pleasant experience thus far. I do, however, find myself needing to nod off. 

     Don’t let this jubilant photo lie to you— I know I look like a movie star, but the truth is that I haven’t slept more than 4 hours straight in almost a week. So really, let’s be glad that I’m conscious and abroad. 

     I don't wish to be so dreary on my second day, I am just a sufferer of overwhelm. While I am tired and in need of silence, I am sincerely grateful for the opportunities ahead of me. It would be a horrific lie for me to say that this came without toil—I have worked upwards of 60 hours a week all summer and have maintained myself on a minimal budget in order to make this opportunity possible. Though many believe that we make our own luck, friends, I want to tell you that I am so fortunate to have been given the assistance that has come my way. To many at home—My mother, my great uncle, Diane, John, and my comrades at Cinebarre—I send my thanks and my abiding appreciation. I could not have made it here without your help. Even Mike’s Camera, where two very kind gentlemen helped me find a memory card that, theoretically, is no long sold in stores. You see, while I have done my best to finance this excursion, I am blessed to have had the company and the support of so many. Thank you, Colorado and Jewell, for all the blessings that you’ve sent my way. 

     Well, I am off for now. I should be landing in Mumbai shortly, and there is much yet to do.  

     Wishing you well.

Upcoming Adventures

     Greetings!

     You may have noticed that there has been little to no activity here in a long while. This summer has found the Trail Tuesday family separated by more than a thousand miles, and I cannot help but miss them. I am elated to report, however, that each has found a wondrous new adventure waiting in the wings!

     My own adventure is the beginning of a long journey. In fulfillment of both childhood and collegiate dreams, I embark upon a trek to India to study Ayurveda, Meditation, and Yoga with a small educational facility there. I hope to share these adventures with you as a part of my own diary and as a piece of a larger vision in my nursing career. 

    Taken from my proposal to pursue an Honors Project, this journey aims to illustrate "the similarities and differences between “Western” allopathic medicine and “Eastern” traditional medicine. Though these practice appear radically different, their comparison may shed light on the shortcomings that we see in our modern medical system, ranging from the methods through which they approach health and illness to the system through which medical care and advice is dispersed. Because health is a term that is understood to entail a variety of traits, the medical philosophies that guide the treatment of illnesses and are heavily influenced by the cultural assumptions about health and its related concepts. By comparing the traditional American definition of health to its Indian counterpart, I hope to discern the characteristics unique to both systems that complement each other. This will result in a synthesis of practices that can positively impact our approach to illness prevention and treatment, opening the world of medicine to a range of practices that have proven beneficial to the promotion of wellness."

     In less stilted words, I hope to dive into a different culture and better myself as a nurse and a spiritual being. This is no small adventure, to be sure-- it has become a pilgrimage to a better understanding of the human condition and its many, many facets. I am so hopeful, friends, that you'll journey with me as I learn and write.

     More to come in the near future-- thank you for your kind wishes, thoughts, and support. I am deeply indebted to so many who have reached out to me in this last year. 

     Thank you.