Bad American.

Vijay Bhai is a spoken English teacher who had been teaching in the English Medium School for 22 years and also someone Emily and I could go to for guidance during our time at the school. He brought us to the staff room where the female teachers sat on one side of the room and the males on the other side. We sat down with him as he asked us our names. When I first introduced myself to the villagers they butchered my name. Indian’s cannot seem to pronounce the “Feli” to my name. So most of the time they said, “Flesha” or “ Felchia” and this was repeated when Vijay Bhai tried to say my name. Quickly, I thought of an alternative nick name other than Felly because then no one would know my name. I said, “Call me Isha” and this seemed to stick with them because it reminded them of the Bollywood actress Isha Deol. I asked Vijay Bhai if he knew what Isha meant and he said it’s a Gujarati name and it means Goddess. Good choice then.

We were introduced to some of the Female teachers: Amita Ben and English teacher, Nimesha Ben a Hindi teacher, and Puheta Ben. We learned that there are 18 teachers in the secondary school and only 3 of them teach English and there are 20 teachers in the primary school.

Vijay Bhai then took us to meet a class. Walking in I noticed all the girls sat on one side of the classroom and all the boys sat on the other side. All the students ranged in different heights and some even looked older or younger than others. Later I learned that usually the boys who sit in the back are the ones who failed the course so they are probably older than everyone else. Emily introduced herself first to the classroom and then I did. I stated my name, what I would teach and that I was excited to teach them English. Next, volunteers got up and spoke in English telling us their name, where they’re from, and their parent’s names. Majority of the class was shy so it was about the same people that volunteered to speak. All who did speak seemed to know English very well. One of students asked Emily and I, “Who wrote your national anthem?” I began to sweat because I had no idea what the answer was so I looked at Emily who had the same facial expression. Oh my God, how embarrassing. I didn’t know we were going to get drilled on American history! I would have studied before I came to class. Priya whispered, “Francis Scott Key”. On our way out another student walked up to me and asked, “Who made your flag?” I pretended to be in a rush and said, “ I forgot but I will tell you later.” We went back to the staff room and all of a sudden I felt like a bad American. I didn’t know things about my country that I should know and should remember. The Indian educational system is all about memorizing and taking exams that determine the rest of a student’s life and what they memorize they remember forever. The American education system prepared me to memorize and regurgitate it all on tests but I never seemed to remember anything I learned after I complete my exams. Frankly, I was ashamed of that fact.
Betsy Ross.
Betsy Ross sewed the first American flag.

Chakra

June 14
Priya (Program Director), Emily( teacher), and I headed towards the bus stop to take a Chakra to Madhi High School. Chakra’s are similar to taxi vans in NY. The big difference is that NY taxi vans only seat the amount of people the van fits, whereas, Chakra’s are packed to over capacity (13 people) when it can fit 5-8 people comfortably. We squeezed our way onto the back of a Chakra that already had 10 people in them. Priya sat next to a woman who had a huge bowl on her lap, Emily sat on a chair opposite them and I had one butt cheek on Emily’s sit and the other half my body outside the Chakra. We were ready to go and I held on for dear life. The truck behind us kept beeping its horn to let me know that half my body was hanging out of the van. Yes, I’m very aware at the fact that I am a woman hanging out of a chakra. As I got used to my position I decided that it would be more comfortable if I stood on the pedestal on the outside. I mean I might as well since I’m already half outside. It was so much cooler on the outside and it was a better view too. Some people stopped what they were doing and watched me, thinking I was crazy or smiled at my enjoyment. She must be American.

Bardoli

June 7
We decided to go to Bardoli today because Priya needed to fix her internet key and I wanted to look for postcards and nice cloth material for my mom. We decided to take the bus there and when it finally arrived, I was slightly disappointed that it wasn’t packed like in the Bollywood movies where people had to run and ride on the outside of the bus because it was so overcrowded. Sitting in the back moved my stomach into my throat because I was literally lifted off my seat at every bump, which was about every 2 minutes.
Priya was in search of a “Reliance Store” where they fix internet keys and computers, which we didn’t end up finding. Every person we asked either never heard of such a store or pointed us in the wrong direction. After 20 minutes of our “effort” to find it, we gave up and decided to get cold coffee from a small restaurant. As soon as I was done with my last sip I knew I had drunk trouble. My stomach began to curse at me for feeding it milk and no food. We both had given up on our searches and we ended up spending more money traveling to Bardoli than time in Bardoli.
Catching a bus back to Kadod was not as easy as it was catching one to Bardoli. We missed the first bus as we watched people push and shove their way in so much so that the money collector could not close the door. Thirty minutes later, we rushed onto the second bus and the adventure began.
There was nowhere to hold on to and nowhere to move. I was squashed between a man who continuously stared at me in an angry matter and a woman clutching her child with my butt in her face. The best part (sarcasm) was me trying to move more into the bus so people can come in by moving what I thought was a man’s shoulder, but ended up being his very wet armpit. I wanted to gag. The ticket collector really wanted his money as he started yelling at us to move out of the way. “ Sit, Sit!!”, he yelled at Priya and I to take the chair in the front. Neither of us did and when he sat down I said, “oh, but you’ll sit!” He smirked and said, “Well, I offered you the chair…” Priya looked and me and said, “Shut up before he kicks us off the bus.” The bus began moving and it was a show for the ticket collector as he watched us sway to and fro hitting others in the face with our arms. I almost fell completely backwards because my whole arm depended on one bar I held on to. Worst of all, we couldn’t see where we were, so for all we knew, we had already passed Kadod. Finally, the bus comes to a halt and I already knew I needed to throw up. The ticket collector yelled “KADOD” and Priya and I jumped off with our stomachs sorely dragging behind us.

Saturn.

June 5,
I’ve always secretly been an astrological nerd. I would get e-mail’s telling me when there would be a meteor shower, when the moon would be a different color, or when I could see a planet in the nights sky. Each and every time I forget that I live in the city and that the only thing I’ll ever see when I look up at the night’s sky is a plane and maybe one star.
When I met Yogesh Bhai he said to Priya and I, “Come to my house tonight and see Saturn”, I thought, What is he talking about? You can’t see Saturn from here. Priya explained how his family built a telescope to see Saturn and how they were given a prestigious award for it. I was amazed and I could not wait to get to his house.
Once we arrived, I saw the massive telescope outside pointed towards the sky. Immediately, I wanted to turn the knobs and focus it in different places but we were seated in their living room. His children: Karan, Divya, and Nimreeta brought out their coin collection. I was immediately amazed and not just from the weight of the binders. The coins dated back to centuries ago, some so old, they were probably worth a lot of money. They had collected them from various places: Zimbabwe, USA, and England. I was holding history in my hand. Next, they brought out their pictures of the moon and its craters. All the pictures they took themselves. It was then I realized that I was in a home filled with geniuses.
Finally, we headed outside to see Saturn. I looked in and could not believe my eyes that there it was and the first thing I said “awe it looks so cute.” Cute? Wrong word, wrong word. This is so amazing. Yogesh bhai then adjusted the telescope so I could see Saturn’s two moons, to which Karan, his son, said “Make sure your eyes are open when you look in” ha ha. Everyone laughed. Yogesh Bhai then used a laser and pointed to Saturn in the sky and it was the first time I was able to see any planet in the sky. I was completely honored by its presence.

Don't Sigh...

When I finally arrived at the Kadod house I was sweaty as hell, exhausted, and hungry. Priya, the Program Director, and I went to eat dinner that was prepared for us by a nice elderly couple just down the road. I did not realize how small the village was until I actually walked around. Everyone seemed to know everyone else and I sure stood out in my hot pink Indian top.

Priya addressed the couple as Dadhi and Dadha (grandma and grandpa) out of respect. Dadha was a short man who wore a white khurta and pants. He had cute round spectacles that made his eyes magnified and he played the TV so loud because of his hearing it made our ears hurt. Dadhi, a sweet woman who wore a blue sari and watched us eat, continuously telling us to take more and if her food wasn’t good we should tell her.

We sat on the floor to eat our roti, veggies, and what I thought was pumpkin curry. I tore a piece of roti and ducked it into the “pumpkin” but once I placed it in my mouth I thought, this sure does not taste like pumpkin. Maybe their pumpkin is different in Gujarat. I looked at Priya and pointed to it. She said, “oh that’s a mango dessert..”

As soon as we got back to the house, I knew I immediately needed to shower. Priya let me know that there was no running water and that I’d have to use buckets to fill the water. This was fine because in Punjab I showered from buckets as well. We decided to put some water into a bucket only to notice water was pouring out from the other end. We immediately started laughing as I realized that my stay here is going to bring a lot of funny laughter and funny situations. As I was gathering my clothes for my shower the lights went out. Great. Priya and I sat quietly in the living room staring into the darkness. The lights came back on, we sighed, and then they came back off again. Great. Principal Mahida shined his flashlight through the window and said, “Turn off your computer!” Priya and I looked at one another confused, “We don’t have our computer on…”, she said. The lights came back on again, we sighed, and then they came off again. Just then I realized I had packed a flashlight so I start rummaging through my suit case in the dark. The lights came on, we sighed, and they went off yet again. Once I found my flashlight, I joined Priya back on the couch, “okay, if the lights come on again, don’t sigh, just hold your breath”, I said. Suddenly, the lights came back on and I literally held my breath until we were sure it was on for good.

Surat

What is so wonderful about India is that each state you tour is completely different from the other. There are different languages, religions, cultures, and ways of life. That is what I love most about India; you will never get bored of it. So, when I landed in Gujarat I could not wait to see the sights that it had to offer me. Surat, a city of Gujarat and also India's eighth largest metropolitan city, is beautiful. The cleanliness of the city allows for people to see it’s greenery, markets, and huge variety of textile and jewelry shops along the highway. Speaking of highways, we passed High Way 8, also known as “High Way Aids”. Apparently, all the truck drivers that would use that high way would stop into other states and sleep with people. Once they get back home, they would do the same. This caused the major spread of Aids in India.

On my way to Kadod, I also heard another story that happened last year. A young girl was walking home from school at night which is very dangerous to do in Gujarat. Men kidnapped her and put her in a van where they raped her for hours. Once she was released she ran home and told the cops. She had remembered seeing something dangling from the rear-view mirror and so the cops went on a search the whole night. They ended up finding the men but now the uproar in the city is that the men are Muslim and the girl is Hindu. There has been a lot of hostility towards Muslims since then.

Wrinkles

I turned “Goodbye” to “See you later” in hopes that I’ll have a chance to visit my family in Punjab later in the month. I knew in reality that I wouldn’t have time because Punjab was a whole day away from Gujarat. As I hugged my dadhi (grandmother) I looked at her in her red eyes that were quickly forming tears. I looked away because mine were doing the same. Right then and there I hated the fact that “See you later” actually meant, “See you in a few years”. My three year old cousin, Dilraj, who I had just met in the three days staying at her house, looked at us curiously as she wondered where I was going and why. I wondered, will she remember me in about 3 years? Probably not.
I made my way down the row of generations of family before I got into the car. There they all stood all waving me goodbye: cousins, grandchildren, uncles, aunts and the roots of the tree: my grandparents. Although I didn’t know my language at all and frankly, ashamed at that fact, I found ways to get to know them. For example, just from observation, I know that my grandmother was definitely the rule maker in the house. In other words, everyone kissed her ass for a share of the acres of land she owned. My cousin Amrik, although protective of his female pride, was all in all: a momma’s boy. His sister, Jeeti is one of the hardest working women I know. All day she cooked chapati, made chai, served food, washed dishes and tended to the buffalo. Only until the end of the day did she actually sit and have her meal. They all had stories to tell and I knew it by just looking at their faces. I wish I could have stayed longer to hear them even if I didn’t know exactly what they were saying.
As the car turned out of the village, the smell of cow dung and burning hay were not smells that totally repulsed me but had put a smirk on my face as I watched people starting a hard day’s work in the fields,under the Indian sun.

Tone-Up

Upon my arrival in Dehli I was greeted by hot wind. For those who have never felt hot wind, do as follows; turn on your oven with nothing sweet baking in it, wait 30 min, open it and let your face just stay in front of it. Not a feeling you want after exiting a cramped plane in clothes you’ve worn for a day and a half straight. Despite my dehydration, I could not wait to observe how India had both changed and remained the same since I last visited in 2007.

Driving through the highway I took note that India’s traffic is still the same, if not worse. There were cars, trucks, motors, bicycles and rickshaws all going in different directions in the same lane. Thus, causing me to have mini heart-attacks as I screamed to the driver in Hindi, “Deheere Deheere!!! (slow, slow!!). To distract my mind, I looked up at the billboard advertisements, my eye catching a bold one. A woman had her back faced to her viewers only wearing a tank-top, underwear, and Sketcher’s “Tone-Up” sneakers. I laughed to myself as I remembered my mother scolding me as she helped pack my suitcase, “Don’t show your cleavage! Make sure you wear a tank-top underneath everything!” Yet, here I was in India, a place to be known as backwards and forwards at the same time, staring at a billboard of a woman half naked displaying her toned buttocks.

Mango

If one ever asked me, "What does India taste like?" I know now to tell them, "Eat a mango. Maybe, throw some pepper on top for a taste of India's burst of flavors." The lengend of the mango is to be believed that the mango tree grew from the ashes of the sun princess who had been incinerated by an evil sorceress. The emperor fell in love with the mango flower and subsequently, its fruit. When it ripened and fell to the ground, the beautiful sun princess emerged. Thus, the fruit has become a symbol of love in India and a basket of mangoes is considered a gesture of friendship.
Funny how fruit and prayer bonds people in India and what bonds people in the states is a computer screen.

***On the right side are more blogs from June and a new log for July*** Enjoy<2