Monday, January 31, 2011
Google reader
Since I have been sick and not really able to sleep I have been spending time on reader. It is fun lots of interesting and silly things. I am beginning to get annoyed with the photography. Mostly family photo's that are meant to look like model shoots. Usually I am ok with it as long as it is fun reflects the couple and are taken well. MOst of them are taking themselves to seriously and look cheesy. And they also use way to many photo effects. I like pictures and taking them. It is just hard for me when everything I see looks the same.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Surfin' Bird
Things have settled down significantly, and that’s why I haven’t been writing more consistently. Most of the things that I’ve been up to are focused on my project, which you can read when I write the paper, or local things that aren’t especially significant.
I want to first off say that I think that I want to correct a statement that I made in an earlier e-mail. Cheap things in India are cheap. Nice things in India are just as expensive and sometimes more expensive than things in the United States. So, I’m having a particularly hard time wanting to buy things in India when I can buy things of similar quality for a similar price in the US. Of course, those things don’t have the aura of being purchased in India, but I also don’t have to drag it overseas in a suitcase either. To top that off, there really isn’t a place to buy those nice things in Vizag anyway. I’ve also been told that there is a distinct difference between authentic items and expensive items. While it is completely possible to buy nice things in India, buying authentic things (which is what I’m interested in) is next to impossible. To buy authentic things one must know what one wants, know the right people, know the right time to ask if they can buy that personal item (you can’t buy these things in the market), and have the person be willing to sell. There are very few exceptions to this because, as I said before, there is no Indian cottage industry. So...there probably won’t be many gifts coming back to people from India.
Having said that, I think that at the end of the program I’ll be traveling to the northern part of West Bengal to Darjeeling, which is supposed to have a place that sells authentic rugs made by Tibetan refugees. But again, almost all of the street vendors sell rugs, which aren’t made locally, so one has to be careful about where these are purchased. Even if you asked a vendor if something was made locally and he understood what you were asking, he would probably lie to you to fetch a higher price and assure the sale.
Not that buying a rug would be the purpose for going. The north eastern part of India is the seat of the gladiola and orchid industry in India, and I would be going to see and perhaps purchase orchids. There are laws about exportation and whatnot, but I’m not worried about it since one of the nurseries that I would be seeing has specifically sold to someone in the US that I know. Besides that, orchids are propagated using a method called flasking, in which orchid seeds are sown in auger and put in a sterilized jar until they grow into seedlings that can be planted into a regular pot. One of those shouldn’t be too difficult to get through customs.
Speaking of Orchids, a large group of them just got delivered to Hollister, and the vivariums are starting to look quite full. Hopefully they don’t die before I get home, but I trust Katie to look after them. Also, everyone at home has been helping to look after them as well, from what Katie has told me. I do feel a little bad letting her shoulder the burden of my orchids for 3 months, because the amount of plants that I have requires a serious time commitment, but I promise that it won’t be for any longer than this three months.
Earlier this week (on Republic Day) Peter, the local warden and only other white American in the Vizag district, took us men on the program to get a shave from a local barber, which is how all Indian men keep clean. That doesn’t mean that I shaved my beard, it’s just what it’s called when it involves the face. I got my beard trimmed (which I had mixed feelings about, but figured it was an experience that I should have), my neck shaved, and my beard shaped on the cheeks. It was a wonderful experience, especially because included in a shave is a message. It also felt a little like the wild west because all of the shaving was done with a straight razor. I had heard before, and now I believe it, that a straight razor is the best way to shave. It was extremely effective and I’m not sure that I ever want anyone but a barber to shave me ever again. The best part: it cost about 45 cents.
Apparently, the only gym in the region that does olympic style lifting is on the other side of town in a slum area. it has no air-conditioning, no roof, and very primitive weights. It was kind of funny, because before I went there I was talking to people at another fitness gym (the nicest in Vizag...they wanted to 6500 rupees for two months, which is nearly 150 dollars. No thanks) to try and find a place that I could do olympic lifting and they were all telling me that it was a slum area and that I shouldn’t go. I should just work out at the nice gym. Well, I checked it out anyway, and it’s not only cheap (about a dollar a month), but as good as I need. Besides, I would rather rub shoulders with dirty street, slum people than upper caste English speakers. My translator wants to joint the gym as well, so we’ll be commuting with each other starting on Tuesday evening (gas will run us about a dollar a day, split between two people).
Three people in the program ran into a film crew filming a Bengali movie and are going to be in the movie. That’s good for them, and I’m not super interested in telling you the story, but suffice it say, they did two days of filming. One of the perks of being white in India, I guess.
On Saturday, I went to the beach with two other girls from the program, because one of the girls, from BYU Hawaii, had heard that there were surfboard rentals at Rushiconda, a beach just north of Vizag. I told her that I had never gone before, but that I would be willing to go out with her so that she wouldn’t be alone (plus, I’m kind of crazy, so I’ll pretty much try anything athletic). True to the Internet’s word, not only were there two people surfing when we got there, there was indeed a place to rent boards. The man, named Melville, who rents the boards out, is a really cool local who was in the Indian navy, but never had enough money to try surfing. In the ensuing 25 years or so, he’s managed to acquire boards, other supplies, and become friends with world famous surfers and board shapers. It’s a tightknit community of people (only a handful of people) and Melville was very generous to us. After surfing, or in my case, attempting to surf, we ate lunch with him and his friends, talked about surfing and generally got to know each other. Amy, the girl from BYU-H was super stoked to find people who surfed, and fell in love. We’re planning on going back on the weekends to surf, hang out, and find out more about the community for her to blog about and post information about on the internet. I’m not so interested in surfing (I hate the beach, but the ocean was fun enough), but the community is amazing, and I wouldn’t mind going back just to be a part of it.
I didn’t stand up, but I didn’t particularly try. I caught nearly every wave I tried for (which was grand total of 2), but the hardest part of surfing was sitting on the board. When you’re sitting on the board and you’re not moving in the water, it’s incredibly difficult to balance (and I don’t usually have a hard time with balance), but once you actually get going after catching a wave the fins actually do something, and you feel rock solid. Amy thinks that I won’t even be able to stand up on the board by the time I leave, but I’m pretty sure that it won’t take me more than one or two more times of going. I’m a fast learner, and even if I suck at balancing on the board while sitting, I’m pretty sure that I could have gotten up on the board the first wave I caught. We’ll see what happens, because I’m literally teaching myself how to do this. And for the record, the waves weren’t very large (like 2-2 1/2 feet), and they’re supposed to get up to 15 by the time we leave. My goal: ride a big wave before I go home.
Justin Tungate
I want to first off say that I think that I want to correct a statement that I made in an earlier e-mail. Cheap things in India are cheap. Nice things in India are just as expensive and sometimes more expensive than things in the United States. So, I’m having a particularly hard time wanting to buy things in India when I can buy things of similar quality for a similar price in the US. Of course, those things don’t have the aura of being purchased in India, but I also don’t have to drag it overseas in a suitcase either. To top that off, there really isn’t a place to buy those nice things in Vizag anyway. I’ve also been told that there is a distinct difference between authentic items and expensive items. While it is completely possible to buy nice things in India, buying authentic things (which is what I’m interested in) is next to impossible. To buy authentic things one must know what one wants, know the right people, know the right time to ask if they can buy that personal item (you can’t buy these things in the market), and have the person be willing to sell. There are very few exceptions to this because, as I said before, there is no Indian cottage industry. So...there probably won’t be many gifts coming back to people from India.
Having said that, I think that at the end of the program I’ll be traveling to the northern part of West Bengal to Darjeeling, which is supposed to have a place that sells authentic rugs made by Tibetan refugees. But again, almost all of the street vendors sell rugs, which aren’t made locally, so one has to be careful about where these are purchased. Even if you asked a vendor if something was made locally and he understood what you were asking, he would probably lie to you to fetch a higher price and assure the sale.
Not that buying a rug would be the purpose for going. The north eastern part of India is the seat of the gladiola and orchid industry in India, and I would be going to see and perhaps purchase orchids. There are laws about exportation and whatnot, but I’m not worried about it since one of the nurseries that I would be seeing has specifically sold to someone in the US that I know. Besides that, orchids are propagated using a method called flasking, in which orchid seeds are sown in auger and put in a sterilized jar until they grow into seedlings that can be planted into a regular pot. One of those shouldn’t be too difficult to get through customs.
Speaking of Orchids, a large group of them just got delivered to Hollister, and the vivariums are starting to look quite full. Hopefully they don’t die before I get home, but I trust Katie to look after them. Also, everyone at home has been helping to look after them as well, from what Katie has told me. I do feel a little bad letting her shoulder the burden of my orchids for 3 months, because the amount of plants that I have requires a serious time commitment, but I promise that it won’t be for any longer than this three months.
Earlier this week (on Republic Day) Peter, the local warden and only other white American in the Vizag district, took us men on the program to get a shave from a local barber, which is how all Indian men keep clean. That doesn’t mean that I shaved my beard, it’s just what it’s called when it involves the face. I got my beard trimmed (which I had mixed feelings about, but figured it was an experience that I should have), my neck shaved, and my beard shaped on the cheeks. It was a wonderful experience, especially because included in a shave is a message. It also felt a little like the wild west because all of the shaving was done with a straight razor. I had heard before, and now I believe it, that a straight razor is the best way to shave. It was extremely effective and I’m not sure that I ever want anyone but a barber to shave me ever again. The best part: it cost about 45 cents.
Apparently, the only gym in the region that does olympic style lifting is on the other side of town in a slum area. it has no air-conditioning, no roof, and very primitive weights. It was kind of funny, because before I went there I was talking to people at another fitness gym (the nicest in Vizag...they wanted to 6500 rupees for two months, which is nearly 150 dollars. No thanks) to try and find a place that I could do olympic lifting and they were all telling me that it was a slum area and that I shouldn’t go. I should just work out at the nice gym. Well, I checked it out anyway, and it’s not only cheap (about a dollar a month), but as good as I need. Besides, I would rather rub shoulders with dirty street, slum people than upper caste English speakers. My translator wants to joint the gym as well, so we’ll be commuting with each other starting on Tuesday evening (gas will run us about a dollar a day, split between two people).
Three people in the program ran into a film crew filming a Bengali movie and are going to be in the movie. That’s good for them, and I’m not super interested in telling you the story, but suffice it say, they did two days of filming. One of the perks of being white in India, I guess.
On Saturday, I went to the beach with two other girls from the program, because one of the girls, from BYU Hawaii, had heard that there were surfboard rentals at Rushiconda, a beach just north of Vizag. I told her that I had never gone before, but that I would be willing to go out with her so that she wouldn’t be alone (plus, I’m kind of crazy, so I’ll pretty much try anything athletic). True to the Internet’s word, not only were there two people surfing when we got there, there was indeed a place to rent boards. The man, named Melville, who rents the boards out, is a really cool local who was in the Indian navy, but never had enough money to try surfing. In the ensuing 25 years or so, he’s managed to acquire boards, other supplies, and become friends with world famous surfers and board shapers. It’s a tightknit community of people (only a handful of people) and Melville was very generous to us. After surfing, or in my case, attempting to surf, we ate lunch with him and his friends, talked about surfing and generally got to know each other. Amy, the girl from BYU-H was super stoked to find people who surfed, and fell in love. We’re planning on going back on the weekends to surf, hang out, and find out more about the community for her to blog about and post information about on the internet. I’m not so interested in surfing (I hate the beach, but the ocean was fun enough), but the community is amazing, and I wouldn’t mind going back just to be a part of it.
I didn’t stand up, but I didn’t particularly try. I caught nearly every wave I tried for (which was grand total of 2), but the hardest part of surfing was sitting on the board. When you’re sitting on the board and you’re not moving in the water, it’s incredibly difficult to balance (and I don’t usually have a hard time with balance), but once you actually get going after catching a wave the fins actually do something, and you feel rock solid. Amy thinks that I won’t even be able to stand up on the board by the time I leave, but I’m pretty sure that it won’t take me more than one or two more times of going. I’m a fast learner, and even if I suck at balancing on the board while sitting, I’m pretty sure that I could have gotten up on the board the first wave I caught. We’ll see what happens, because I’m literally teaching myself how to do this. And for the record, the waves weren’t very large (like 2-2 1/2 feet), and they’re supposed to get up to 15 by the time we leave. My goal: ride a big wave before I go home.
Justin Tungate
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Sick sick sick
Our son was sick for 3 days. He just wanted to be held and rocked. so cute. He is now feeling better and I am feeling like I want to sit and be held all day.
To be child with no responsibilities...
To be child with no responsibilities...
Monday, January 24, 2011
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Wish I had more money
Oh man I was just looking at a food blog. i wish I could devote my time to visiting fantastic restaurants and bloging about them...
Movies and Pizza
Yesterday, for dinner, the group decided that it would be fun to try the local pizza, so we hopped in a rickshaw and told the driver to go to the place that we had been told had pizza having absolutely no idea what to expect. Well, it turns out that the place we went was a hotel/resort, and a nice one at that (not a single piece of trash, guards in full get up at the gated entrance, manicured lawns, water features, etc.). Pizza was regularly priced (10-20 bucks for a medium...the upper end may seem expensive, but that pizza had lobster on it) and it was made in an outdoor brick oven right in front of us and it was just about as good as any place I’ve eaten in the US. We ate on the patio area next to the pool. It felt like we were in a tropical paradise, not India. Well, a paradise that only has 10 songs from the year 2000 playing on repeat. Honestly, it felt weird...almost like I didn’t belong in a place that nice. Maybe that sounds strange, but it felt like we only got in because we were white. I was sure that I would feel strange going back to dirty India when we left, but I felt better about it, like I was back to the real world where I was supposed to be. Before we left the girls wanted to see how expensive a night was so that they could plan on spending a day or two just in the resort, and the rooms cost 200 bucks a night on the lower end, which isn’t incredibly expensive, but it’s certainly nicer than any place I’ve purposefully stayed in. It’s a nice place and I think that we may be going back for birthdays or something like that.
The night before that we went and saw a Telugu film. Don’t know why, but I think that everyone expected there to be subtitles...there weren’t. You should try to get Once Upon a Warrior (I can’t remember the Telugu name) and try watching it without any subtitles, it’s an experience. Apparently, the movie is the first joint venture with Disney in India. All of the special effects and acting and what not was done by local Indian talent (especially the special effects...they were pretty terrible by American standards), and Disney mostly contributed to the story development and film promotion. I don’t know if I would ever watch the movie again, but it was a fun experience. There were so many inconsistencies and cuts that it was hard to take some of it seriously, but the thing that bugged me the most is that they filmed one of the music videos in a mineral formation very similar to Mammoth in Yellowstone (probably more impressive actually). They were splashing around in the water and whatnot. I turned to the person sitting next to me and told them that I was very unhappy with them destroying a natural formation. I’m sure that no one else in the movie theater (including the Americans) cared one bit.
The most interesting part of going to the movie wasn’t actually in the movie though. While I was with one of the translators buying the tickets for the movie a couple of hours before hand I was stopped by someone who asked to take my picture. I complied and posed for his picture and told him my name when I asked (he wasn’t in the photo, by the way. It was just a picture of me). That’s not entirely strange for India, but it gets better. When we came back for the start of the movie some guy I had never met waved at me and said, “Hi Justin”. Apparently, the guy who had originally taken my picture had told his friends about me. A little weird, but it gets better. As it turned out, we sat directly behind those guys in the movie theater and at intermission they turned back to talk to me and showed me that the background on his phone was the picture that he had taken of me, and his friend went about explaining to me how smart I looked in the picture and even compared me to someone (the name of whom I didn’t catch). I had a little fan club. These weren’t kids mind you, but men in their 20s (one had a daughter 5-6 years-old). Americans, despite recent political mess-ups and their declining world image are still very much loved here in Vizag.
For reference sake, there are less than 30 Americans in Vizag District, and all of them except one are Indians who have citizenship for one reason or another (like their parents worked in the US when they were born). When I say that there are no white people in Vizag I’m not kidding; that makes everyone in the group very nice people (who else are we going to be friends with if not each other). Even considering that, I’ve been surprised to find that I would actually be friends with a couple of the people in the program in real life. Maybe my expectations weren’t fair, but I really didn’t think that I would be able to get along with anyone...them being from BYU and all.
The food here is amazing...I will definitely gain weight while I’m here.
I bought some more traditional clothes and I’m excited to finally get into the spirit of being in India. I plan on buying a few more things, but we’ll see how that pans out
Justin
The night before that we went and saw a Telugu film. Don’t know why, but I think that everyone expected there to be subtitles...there weren’t. You should try to get Once Upon a Warrior (I can’t remember the Telugu name) and try watching it without any subtitles, it’s an experience. Apparently, the movie is the first joint venture with Disney in India. All of the special effects and acting and what not was done by local Indian talent (especially the special effects...they were pretty terrible by American standards), and Disney mostly contributed to the story development and film promotion. I don’t know if I would ever watch the movie again, but it was a fun experience. There were so many inconsistencies and cuts that it was hard to take some of it seriously, but the thing that bugged me the most is that they filmed one of the music videos in a mineral formation very similar to Mammoth in Yellowstone (probably more impressive actually). They were splashing around in the water and whatnot. I turned to the person sitting next to me and told them that I was very unhappy with them destroying a natural formation. I’m sure that no one else in the movie theater (including the Americans) cared one bit.
The most interesting part of going to the movie wasn’t actually in the movie though. While I was with one of the translators buying the tickets for the movie a couple of hours before hand I was stopped by someone who asked to take my picture. I complied and posed for his picture and told him my name when I asked (he wasn’t in the photo, by the way. It was just a picture of me). That’s not entirely strange for India, but it gets better. When we came back for the start of the movie some guy I had never met waved at me and said, “Hi Justin”. Apparently, the guy who had originally taken my picture had told his friends about me. A little weird, but it gets better. As it turned out, we sat directly behind those guys in the movie theater and at intermission they turned back to talk to me and showed me that the background on his phone was the picture that he had taken of me, and his friend went about explaining to me how smart I looked in the picture and even compared me to someone (the name of whom I didn’t catch). I had a little fan club. These weren’t kids mind you, but men in their 20s (one had a daughter 5-6 years-old). Americans, despite recent political mess-ups and their declining world image are still very much loved here in Vizag.
For reference sake, there are less than 30 Americans in Vizag District, and all of them except one are Indians who have citizenship for one reason or another (like their parents worked in the US when they were born). When I say that there are no white people in Vizag I’m not kidding; that makes everyone in the group very nice people (who else are we going to be friends with if not each other). Even considering that, I’ve been surprised to find that I would actually be friends with a couple of the people in the program in real life. Maybe my expectations weren’t fair, but I really didn’t think that I would be able to get along with anyone...them being from BYU and all.
The food here is amazing...I will definitely gain weight while I’m here.
I bought some more traditional clothes and I’m excited to finally get into the spirit of being in India. I plan on buying a few more things, but we’ll see how that pans out
Justin
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Justin In India
I had some trouble with my ATM card so I couldn’t withdraw any money since I’ve been in India. Unfortunately, that meant that I couldn’t get on internet for the last couple of days, and therefore meant no e-mails. So, I’m sending this short e-mail out to let you know that my money issues have been solved and I should be back on track with regular e-mails from here on out.
This festival season seems like it’s never going to end. You would think that I would welcome it, but unfortunately all of the festivities have made it difficult to do any work. In Vizag these festivals aren’t exactly grand experiences. Some of the villages have cock fights, but other than that there isn’t much fanfare surrounding the harvest. Mostly, all the shops are closed and everyone that I would be interested in working with is drunk. So, I’ve been staying at home wishing for something to do besides studying language and reading books about my project.
On that note, this language thing is hard. Telugu has cases, just like Latin and Greek, which makes it silly. Apparently, it’s supposed to become quite intuitive, but to me it just feels like more work. Hopefully, I’ll get it before I leave, but I’m not exactly counting on it. I am getting closer to reading Telugu though. Lots of people on the program aren’t really interested in being literate in Telugu, but I feel like it’s the most likely way that I’ll be able to keep up my Telugu after I leave India (although I understand that the chances of that happening are still small).
It’s heating up here, and I’m regretting having brought jeans. I have no idea what the temperatures have been, because no one has thermometers here, but it’s been on the lower end of unpleasant and I’m starting to sweat during the day when there isn’t a fan on. It’s still in the middle of winter though, and it’s only going to get much much hotter. I’ll probably end up buying some lighter clothes before to long.
I feel like India is lacking artisans. Everything that you see for sale by street vendors looks cheaply made and mass produced, and I’m holding out on buying things until I find something that I think will last and be worthwhile. Those things may be more expensive, but I think that in the end I would just rather have something nice instead of something that looks like a 10 year old in a factory airbrushed it in 2 minutes. We’ll see what I eventually find, but I may just have to resort to buying things that are subpar. Sorry Katie, but your Christmas present might not be coming from India after all.
However, I feel like living in India is going to make me a miser. Everything is SOOO cheap here. If something is significantly above 500 rupees then I’m thinking, “why on Earth would I spend that kind of money?” 450 rupees is only 10 dollars, but it feels like so much more. It also makes haggling more of a hassle because I really don’t care about 10 rupees difference (about 20 cents worth), but I feel obligated to haggle so that people don’t get the impression that white people are easy to take advantage of. Haggling just isn’t something that I’ve ever enjoyed. If it’s worth 30 rupees today it should be worth 30 rupees tomorrow.
Justin
This festival season seems like it’s never going to end. You would think that I would welcome it, but unfortunately all of the festivities have made it difficult to do any work. In Vizag these festivals aren’t exactly grand experiences. Some of the villages have cock fights, but other than that there isn’t much fanfare surrounding the harvest. Mostly, all the shops are closed and everyone that I would be interested in working with is drunk. So, I’ve been staying at home wishing for something to do besides studying language and reading books about my project.
On that note, this language thing is hard. Telugu has cases, just like Latin and Greek, which makes it silly. Apparently, it’s supposed to become quite intuitive, but to me it just feels like more work. Hopefully, I’ll get it before I leave, but I’m not exactly counting on it. I am getting closer to reading Telugu though. Lots of people on the program aren’t really interested in being literate in Telugu, but I feel like it’s the most likely way that I’ll be able to keep up my Telugu after I leave India (although I understand that the chances of that happening are still small).
It’s heating up here, and I’m regretting having brought jeans. I have no idea what the temperatures have been, because no one has thermometers here, but it’s been on the lower end of unpleasant and I’m starting to sweat during the day when there isn’t a fan on. It’s still in the middle of winter though, and it’s only going to get much much hotter. I’ll probably end up buying some lighter clothes before to long.
I feel like India is lacking artisans. Everything that you see for sale by street vendors looks cheaply made and mass produced, and I’m holding out on buying things until I find something that I think will last and be worthwhile. Those things may be more expensive, but I think that in the end I would just rather have something nice instead of something that looks like a 10 year old in a factory airbrushed it in 2 minutes. We’ll see what I eventually find, but I may just have to resort to buying things that are subpar. Sorry Katie, but your Christmas present might not be coming from India after all.
However, I feel like living in India is going to make me a miser. Everything is SOOO cheap here. If something is significantly above 500 rupees then I’m thinking, “why on Earth would I spend that kind of money?” 450 rupees is only 10 dollars, but it feels like so much more. It also makes haggling more of a hassle because I really don’t care about 10 rupees difference (about 20 cents worth), but I feel obligated to haggle so that people don’t get the impression that white people are easy to take advantage of. Haggling just isn’t something that I’ve ever enjoyed. If it’s worth 30 rupees today it should be worth 30 rupees tomorrow.
Justin
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Toilet Monster
I feel asleep with our son on the bed. While I was sleeping he woke up and stuffed two rolls of toilet paper into the toilet. Thankfully he didn't flush.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Saturday, January 15, 2011
orchid pictures
This post is mostly for Justin. These are the latest pictures of some of our plants. I will be adding more pictures tomorrow.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Eventful events
Learning Telugu has been stressful. I feel like one one hand I’m remembering a lot, but on the other I’m forgetting everything I learn. I hope that over the next week or two I’ll become competent enough to at least say something to people, even if I don’t know what they’re responding with. It’s also frustrating to not be able to read. I wish that I could read Telugu because I feel like I could really accelerate my understanding and vocabulary.
I visited the village where I’ll be working two days ago and it was a strange mix of excitement and apathy. People generally continued to do what they were doing, but we still attracted quite a crowd as we moved through the village. Dr. Nuckolls has been adopted into the kinship system and so has family relations in the village whom we visited for a while. Afterwards we traveled down to the beach and saw the temples and the boats and catches of the local men. The boat technology that’s used now is thoroughly modernized; instead of boats made of worked logs lashed together the new boats are made of fiberglass and a few are even outfitted with motors. These new boats are so much more efficient that Jalari men travel upwards of five times further out to sea than they had previously (100 kms as opposed to 20). As we stopped into the home of another one of Dr. Nuckolls friends we were given soda, which is pretty much customary when guests are around. Dr. Nuckolls told his friend that it would be unnecessary to go to such an expense (since there 5 or 6 students altogether), but our host insisted and with the response, “how else should I act?” we were handed a round of drinks.
As it so happened, it we were on the beach as men started to come in with their catches. We even saw some young men carrying in a swordfish worth 5000 rupees, or about one months salary for one person. That’s only 110 dollars.
Yesterday the group took a day trip up to the tribal area of Araku valley that sits on the border of Andhra Pradesh (which is the northern border of what is considered south India). The people there aren’t related to either of the major groupings that categorize Indians today. They speak a language (or group of languages) that is neither Dravidian based or Sanskrit based and it is theorized that they are the native inhabitants of the area, although the majority of the tribal peoples are Hindu (but their worship practices vary dramatically from Brahmanic Hinduism). The area is protected and was explained to me to be a kind of reservation. I’m not sure of the specifics of what that entails, but I do know that in 1970 the Indian government created an act that only allowed the sale of tribal lands to other tribal peoples. However, heavy logging has reduced what was once a lush forest into grassy hills.
Vizag sits at the bottom of the Eastern Ghats and traveling north meant going into the mountains. There is a relatively famous cave on the way that was actually quite impressive. As we walked up I wondered what kind of experience this would be. All caves that I had been in previously were with the supervision and guidance of a tour guide. As it turns out Indians don’t really care too much about supervision and once we passed through the gate there was not a single person guarding formations or informing people about appropriate interactions with the cave. I could have hopped across the railing and traveled as deep into the cave as I pleased and not a single person would have said anything (believe me, I was tempted). Borra Cave has a large opening (probably large enough for a 3 or 4 story building to fit into), and very few formations. The path that we walked on had been tiled with slate and there were stairs, but that only went back so far. Dr. Nuckolls explained that on his last visit, 25 years ago, he had gone quite far into the cave, which eventually met up with an underground river. There is a Shiva lingum inside the cave which is simply a columnar formation that is believed to be a manifestation of the god Shiva. It’s not exactly in a convenient spot and 25 years ago was only accessible by rope climbing.
When we arrived in the valley we were given a presentation about the local area from the local non-profit organization that heads up AIDS education, environmentalism, sanitation and other similar things. After lunch we ate a delicious meal and went out into one of the tribal villages. We were fortuitous to find the village engaged in traditional type of dancing, which is almost exactly like a conga line, albeit a little more complicated. The line of people moves around like a snake which coils in on itself and generally moves in a circle. Some students got involved in the dance, but that didn’t seem like my cup of tea so I opted to take pictures for the people who hopped in. When we went back to the headquarters of the non-profit they taught us how to actually do the dance and we did one with us students and the people who work for the non-profit (I reluctantly joined, although I was not nearly as reluctant as some). There really aren’t any musical instruments involved (or any at all) besides drums and the human voice, but the beats were so much different and complicated that it was actually quite nice to listen to just them. I think that American drum lines could learn a thing or two from these tribal people.
While walking, Dr. Nuckolls told me (after affirming that I could live in a place like the village we visited) that I should bring my family back and live in one of the tribal villages for a few months (you’re apparently taken much more seriously if you bring your family with you). It’s a fascinating idea, but not one that I’m sure I’ll ever feel comfortable doing. Would I really be OK with taking my son to not only a foreign country, but to an area infested with mosquitos and poor sanitation? I don’t know. At this point I could probably be talked into it, but only after some lengthy education. It was really quite nice to be in a place that wasn’t filled with trash though.
Today is the start of San Kranti, or the harvest festival, which is probably the largest festival in Southern India. I’ll let you know if anything piques my curiosity.
Justin
I visited the village where I’ll be working two days ago and it was a strange mix of excitement and apathy. People generally continued to do what they were doing, but we still attracted quite a crowd as we moved through the village. Dr. Nuckolls has been adopted into the kinship system and so has family relations in the village whom we visited for a while. Afterwards we traveled down to the beach and saw the temples and the boats and catches of the local men. The boat technology that’s used now is thoroughly modernized; instead of boats made of worked logs lashed together the new boats are made of fiberglass and a few are even outfitted with motors. These new boats are so much more efficient that Jalari men travel upwards of five times further out to sea than they had previously (100 kms as opposed to 20). As we stopped into the home of another one of Dr. Nuckolls friends we were given soda, which is pretty much customary when guests are around. Dr. Nuckolls told his friend that it would be unnecessary to go to such an expense (since there 5 or 6 students altogether), but our host insisted and with the response, “how else should I act?” we were handed a round of drinks.
As it so happened, it we were on the beach as men started to come in with their catches. We even saw some young men carrying in a swordfish worth 5000 rupees, or about one months salary for one person. That’s only 110 dollars.
Yesterday the group took a day trip up to the tribal area of Araku valley that sits on the border of Andhra Pradesh (which is the northern border of what is considered south India). The people there aren’t related to either of the major groupings that categorize Indians today. They speak a language (or group of languages) that is neither Dravidian based or Sanskrit based and it is theorized that they are the native inhabitants of the area, although the majority of the tribal peoples are Hindu (but their worship practices vary dramatically from Brahmanic Hinduism). The area is protected and was explained to me to be a kind of reservation. I’m not sure of the specifics of what that entails, but I do know that in 1970 the Indian government created an act that only allowed the sale of tribal lands to other tribal peoples. However, heavy logging has reduced what was once a lush forest into grassy hills.
Vizag sits at the bottom of the Eastern Ghats and traveling north meant going into the mountains. There is a relatively famous cave on the way that was actually quite impressive. As we walked up I wondered what kind of experience this would be. All caves that I had been in previously were with the supervision and guidance of a tour guide. As it turns out Indians don’t really care too much about supervision and once we passed through the gate there was not a single person guarding formations or informing people about appropriate interactions with the cave. I could have hopped across the railing and traveled as deep into the cave as I pleased and not a single person would have said anything (believe me, I was tempted). Borra Cave has a large opening (probably large enough for a 3 or 4 story building to fit into), and very few formations. The path that we walked on had been tiled with slate and there were stairs, but that only went back so far. Dr. Nuckolls explained that on his last visit, 25 years ago, he had gone quite far into the cave, which eventually met up with an underground river. There is a Shiva lingum inside the cave which is simply a columnar formation that is believed to be a manifestation of the god Shiva. It’s not exactly in a convenient spot and 25 years ago was only accessible by rope climbing.
When we arrived in the valley we were given a presentation about the local area from the local non-profit organization that heads up AIDS education, environmentalism, sanitation and other similar things. After lunch we ate a delicious meal and went out into one of the tribal villages. We were fortuitous to find the village engaged in traditional type of dancing, which is almost exactly like a conga line, albeit a little more complicated. The line of people moves around like a snake which coils in on itself and generally moves in a circle. Some students got involved in the dance, but that didn’t seem like my cup of tea so I opted to take pictures for the people who hopped in. When we went back to the headquarters of the non-profit they taught us how to actually do the dance and we did one with us students and the people who work for the non-profit (I reluctantly joined, although I was not nearly as reluctant as some). There really aren’t any musical instruments involved (or any at all) besides drums and the human voice, but the beats were so much different and complicated that it was actually quite nice to listen to just them. I think that American drum lines could learn a thing or two from these tribal people.
While walking, Dr. Nuckolls told me (after affirming that I could live in a place like the village we visited) that I should bring my family back and live in one of the tribal villages for a few months (you’re apparently taken much more seriously if you bring your family with you). It’s a fascinating idea, but not one that I’m sure I’ll ever feel comfortable doing. Would I really be OK with taking my son to not only a foreign country, but to an area infested with mosquitos and poor sanitation? I don’t know. At this point I could probably be talked into it, but only after some lengthy education. It was really quite nice to be in a place that wasn’t filled with trash though.
Today is the start of San Kranti, or the harvest festival, which is probably the largest festival in Southern India. I’ll let you know if anything piques my curiosity.
Justin
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Feeling Stupid
Justin has started an orchid blog http://orchidementia.blogspot.com/ It is pretty interesting for those that want to check it out. I feel like a goober because it has taken me this long to first of all add it to my list and secondly say something about it on the blog.
I will blame it on the baby.
yeah
I will blame it on the baby.
yeah
A photo Update!
This is a photo for Justin. On the top right corner you can see a root that has grown all the way up the cork. Super cool
Felix really likes to load and unload the dishes.
THis is what the rearranged room looks like!
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
I can share
I had been giving Felix crackers because he wanted a snack and was being kind of crazy. I looked over and saw that he was giving one to Risky. How cute!
This is what I found a little while later.
Clearly he had been sharing for a while.
This is what I found a little while later.
Clearly he had been sharing for a while.
The inner sanctum
Today we went to the temple on the hill. I can’t remember what the name of the temple is or who the God is (or be able to spell it), but I do know that Semhatulam (almost invariably an incorrect spelling) is the name of the hill. Because of contacts that Charles Nuckolls has with an Ayer Vedic doctor, who just so happens to be the personal doctor to the Maharaja, who just so happens to be patron of the temple, we got into the inner sanctum. Most Indians just walk by and look into the inner sanctum, so what we experienced was very rare, even for Indians. Apparently, it would cost an Indian 10000 rupees to do that. I wondered to myself as I walked by how they would feel about it. Were the Indians in line wondering why on earth a bunch of white people who were probably Christian got to cut through line and get into the inner sanctum? I don’t know, but I imagine that it’s probably what I would have been thinking.
After the inner sanctum we were tied to a wishing pole that is said to be especially effective for women/couples wishing to conceive. I admit that I made a wish.
At any rate, the temple is beautiful. It’s a little weird though, because Indians don’t seem to have any regard for architecture and they bulldoze and tear down buildings and structures that date back to the 16th century and replace them with kind of crappy concrete structures. It’s like artisans got replaced by day laborers. Luckily, enough of the old stuff is still around to make everything seem very nice.
I got my phone today. The number is 91-7702573486. I don’t think that I pay anything to receive phone calls, but calls to the US are like 14 cents a minute. Skype calls are definitely less expensive.
On a negative note, I found out today that I lost my camera/got it stolen. I left my bag in a car that we rented for a day trip and when I got it back, I didn’t think to check in the bag to make sure that everything was there. Well, it turns out that today I couldn’t find my camera. This being India though, I was lucky to get my bag back at all, let alone with most of the stuff inside. I should have known better...lesson learned. I don’t know what I’m going to do about the camera situation, but I’ll check out what’s available here and hopefully pick something up that’s not too expensive.
I’m tired....
Justin
I didn’t make a wish to conceive, just to be clear. Those were unconnected statements. And while I’m remembering the God is wrapped in sandalwood paste every day of the year except for one when he is unwrapped. It is believed that his glory is so great that he needs to be contained or else the world would explode.
Justin
After the inner sanctum we were tied to a wishing pole that is said to be especially effective for women/couples wishing to conceive. I admit that I made a wish.
At any rate, the temple is beautiful. It’s a little weird though, because Indians don’t seem to have any regard for architecture and they bulldoze and tear down buildings and structures that date back to the 16th century and replace them with kind of crappy concrete structures. It’s like artisans got replaced by day laborers. Luckily, enough of the old stuff is still around to make everything seem very nice.
I got my phone today. The number is 91-7702573486. I don’t think that I pay anything to receive phone calls, but calls to the US are like 14 cents a minute. Skype calls are definitely less expensive.
On a negative note, I found out today that I lost my camera/got it stolen. I left my bag in a car that we rented for a day trip and when I got it back, I didn’t think to check in the bag to make sure that everything was there. Well, it turns out that today I couldn’t find my camera. This being India though, I was lucky to get my bag back at all, let alone with most of the stuff inside. I should have known better...lesson learned. I don’t know what I’m going to do about the camera situation, but I’ll check out what’s available here and hopefully pick something up that’s not too expensive.
I’m tired....
Justin
I didn’t make a wish to conceive, just to be clear. Those were unconnected statements. And while I’m remembering the God is wrapped in sandalwood paste every day of the year except for one when he is unwrapped. It is believed that his glory is so great that he needs to be contained or else the world would explode.
Justin
Monday, January 10, 2011
Update on Justin's Research
There have been a few changes to my project. Instead of studying Sati Polamma I’ll be studying a new festival that’s developed since the tsunami in 2004. I don’t know much about it, but it’s exciting to study something that no one has written about or really studied in an academic sense yet.
Sunday In India
Church was interesting. My first impression when I walked in was that there were more members than I expected. There were probably at least 100 people in the branch that I went to (there are two in Vizag). However, sitting through Sacrament Meeting was as boring in Vizag as it is in the US. Everyone speaks english and the missionaries are legally only allowed to proselytize in english. This is because the majority of christians in India already speak english and the powers that be don’t really care if christians become christian. What is sad is that not everyone speaks english well and since there’s absolutely no language training for the missionaries they go through their entire missions not understanding a lick of what most people say. Even in church we had gospel doctrine taught/translated into both english and telugu mostly for the benefit of us Americans.
Lots of people seemed to love going to church (and plan on getting more involved in firesides and other such things) and it wasn’t a particularly bad experience for me, but it felt too familiar, which was strangely off putting. I know that lots of people love that the church is the same everywhere, but especially after this experience, I am not one of them. Along with the church came everything else about western culture. The church had western toilets, western dress (suits and ties for men, sarees for women), and western conceptions of faith.
Having said that, in Gospel Doctrine a man got up and gave one of the most beautiful and sincere prayers I’ve ever heard. He prayed that God would deliver his message through the teacher, but in a way that was completely foreign to me as a westerner. He practically told God to deliver his message, “You tell us what You want us to here”. It was beautiful in the sense that it recognized that each of us becomes a conduit for God as we speak truth and that we have the right to demand that God teach us. We become the medium through which He communicates His message, and in that way each of us has the power to ascend into the divine and God inhabits us for just a fleeting, but awe inspiring moment. It was the most Indian part of church.
Overall, however, it felt like a slightly counterproductive experience. Immersion seemed a little less possible afterwards. So, while I still plan to attend church while I’m here, I don’t plan on making any more of it than that.
Lots of people seemed to love going to church (and plan on getting more involved in firesides and other such things) and it wasn’t a particularly bad experience for me, but it felt too familiar, which was strangely off putting. I know that lots of people love that the church is the same everywhere, but especially after this experience, I am not one of them. Along with the church came everything else about western culture. The church had western toilets, western dress (suits and ties for men, sarees for women), and western conceptions of faith.
Having said that, in Gospel Doctrine a man got up and gave one of the most beautiful and sincere prayers I’ve ever heard. He prayed that God would deliver his message through the teacher, but in a way that was completely foreign to me as a westerner. He practically told God to deliver his message, “You tell us what You want us to here”. It was beautiful in the sense that it recognized that each of us becomes a conduit for God as we speak truth and that we have the right to demand that God teach us. We become the medium through which He communicates His message, and in that way each of us has the power to ascend into the divine and God inhabits us for just a fleeting, but awe inspiring moment. It was the most Indian part of church.
Overall, however, it felt like a slightly counterproductive experience. Immersion seemed a little less possible afterwards. So, while I still plan to attend church while I’m here, I don’t plan on making any more of it than that.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Why did I become a parent?
I am having one of those why did I become a parent moments. Felix is screaming for no reason, the room is a mess I am tired and really want a shower. My son is also feeding the rat crackers which he is hiding around the room. I am not looking forward to ants.
Post 3 from Justin
The day isn’t up, but I wanted to get this out there while it was fresh. Today we got in a car and drove north of the city about 50 kms, which doesn’t seem very far, but we already live on the northern side of the city, so it basically meant that we were in the country. large broken down buildings quickly turned into small brick huts (or at least what appeared to be brick) with very low palm frond roofs (this happened within a mile or two). We visited a Vishnu temple that is located at a major battle site. In the late 1700s the British started demanding taxes from the land owners which really upset the tax system that was already set up because of two basic reasons. 1st, the land owners already paid taxes to the king (that was the system, the British should have worked with the king, not the land owners) and 2nd, the British didn’t demand a reasonable tax. So, in 1794, the king and 300 princely warriors died fighting the British in a battle that lasted all of 45 minutes. The British squashed them. The king had assumed, because of the local rules of engagement that the battle would begin at dawn and end at sunset, but the British attacked during the night.
We performed puja and then went to a monument on the King’s gravesite. A school was on the road down and the people in charge of it asked us to come into the school yard so that the children could see how exotic we were. They were very excited to see us and even went so far as to ask us for our autographs. It was surreal. I couldn’t believe that I was treated with such adoration simply because of the way that I looked. We were movie stars to those kids and they couldn’t get enough. It conjured up some very complicated emotions in me and I’m not sure that I have words to describe it.
Afterwards, we drove back to Vizag to have lunch with the chancellor of education in Andhra (I think that’s his title. I don’t quite remember) at the Waltair club, an old British club. he oversees the second largest education system in India, which is larger than the education system of California. The club is exclusive and we were the first BYU students to step foot inside (exclusive in the sense that you have to apply to become a member and your applications, complete with salary, are posted on the wall). It wasn’t a particularly impressive building (although it did have western toilets) by American standards, but the grounds didn’t have any trash, which was a nice change. I have to tell you as well, the fried fish was the best fish that I have ever had...EVER. I couldn’t believe my mouth. I have no idea what was in it or how it was prepared (other than battered and fried), but it was amazing...I don’t even have words to describe it. Anyway, we were in little Britain, and I was surprised by how much the bustle, chaos, and dirtiness of urban Vizag jolted me when we left.
The other students in the program are nice enough. I tend to dislike the most bubbly and outgoing of them, which is standard for me it seems.
The other day one of the students said, “these kids are adorable” in reference to all of the kids in India and it felt condescending to me, not complimentary. She certainly meant it in a complimentary way, but somehow I just felt like it was a softly prejudiced thing to say, as if it were surprising to discover that little Indian babies could be cute too.
I feel like I talk too much to the other students. As is my nature I tend to interject when I feel that I have some knowledge to add to a conversation. I think that I might be developing a reputation as a know-it-all, which isn’t really what I would like. I don’t really know how to shut up though. It’s almost compulsive.
I haven’t taken any pictures yet. I’ll have plenty of time to take pictures later and I hate feeling like a tourist trying to get pictures of every school kid that comes my way. I want my pictures to mean something to me, and so far nothing has really struck me as significant enough to document.
Justin
We performed puja and then went to a monument on the King’s gravesite. A school was on the road down and the people in charge of it asked us to come into the school yard so that the children could see how exotic we were. They were very excited to see us and even went so far as to ask us for our autographs. It was surreal. I couldn’t believe that I was treated with such adoration simply because of the way that I looked. We were movie stars to those kids and they couldn’t get enough. It conjured up some very complicated emotions in me and I’m not sure that I have words to describe it.
Afterwards, we drove back to Vizag to have lunch with the chancellor of education in Andhra (I think that’s his title. I don’t quite remember) at the Waltair club, an old British club. he oversees the second largest education system in India, which is larger than the education system of California. The club is exclusive and we were the first BYU students to step foot inside (exclusive in the sense that you have to apply to become a member and your applications, complete with salary, are posted on the wall). It wasn’t a particularly impressive building (although it did have western toilets) by American standards, but the grounds didn’t have any trash, which was a nice change. I have to tell you as well, the fried fish was the best fish that I have ever had...EVER. I couldn’t believe my mouth. I have no idea what was in it or how it was prepared (other than battered and fried), but it was amazing...I don’t even have words to describe it. Anyway, we were in little Britain, and I was surprised by how much the bustle, chaos, and dirtiness of urban Vizag jolted me when we left.
The other students in the program are nice enough. I tend to dislike the most bubbly and outgoing of them, which is standard for me it seems.
The other day one of the students said, “these kids are adorable” in reference to all of the kids in India and it felt condescending to me, not complimentary. She certainly meant it in a complimentary way, but somehow I just felt like it was a softly prejudiced thing to say, as if it were surprising to discover that little Indian babies could be cute too.
I feel like I talk too much to the other students. As is my nature I tend to interject when I feel that I have some knowledge to add to a conversation. I think that I might be developing a reputation as a know-it-all, which isn’t really what I would like. I don’t really know how to shut up though. It’s almost compulsive.
I haven’t taken any pictures yet. I’ll have plenty of time to take pictures later and I hate feeling like a tourist trying to get pictures of every school kid that comes my way. I want my pictures to mean something to me, and so far nothing has really struck me as significant enough to document.
Justin
Friday, January 7, 2011
Bye Bye?
Our son likes to talk. He doesn't say much right now but the most intelligible thing he says is "Bye Bye?" And he says it all the time. Usually after we leave or in the morning when he is sitting in his bed or just playing quietly. And it is always a question. I love it. I am not sure he understands what it means. But he does under stand the word no. I tried to give him cereal this morning for breakfast and he pushed it away and said "No." And I ask him to come and he says "no" as well.
First real day in India
Today was simple and almost boring at times.
We started out the day with a walk down beach road (as an exercise on how to walk down the street), but that ended when some people at a local private school invited us to stop in. The children were excited to see us and as luck would have it the school was preparing the children for an upcoming festival by dressing them up and having them perform the rituals (that’s the wrong word, but I don’t know what else to use). The festival is Sankranti and I really don’t have any clue what it’s about, but the real festival starts on the 14th and lasts for three days, so I’m sure that I’ll learn more then. The children really love the most outgoing people. Like I said, I’ll have to work on it. In reality I think that I’ll be more likely to be outgoing when I’m not around everyone from the program.
We did some other things, like set up internet and whatnot, but the most interesting for me was stopping by the Krishna Temple. We went inside and performed puja or worship, which included clapping and walking around the shrine as the priests chanted and clapped together symbols (along with other people from the neighborhood). After that we stood in line for water that had camphor in it, drank some, wiped the rest on our heads, and were given a food substance of some sort. I’ll have to look into the meaning of all that went on, or at least as much as I can find and let you know. The Jalaris, the people I’ll be working with, don’t really worship Krishna and Dr. Nuckolls said that 90 percent of them wouldn’t have any clue what deity the temple was even dedicated too. Local village goddesses are vastly more important to the Jalari than Krishna, Vishnu and other deities in the regular pantheon that we associate with Hinduism. Those Gods are worshipped and recognized mainly by Brahmans (and only Brahmans can become priests).
The house doesn’t have any hot water and the shower head works only marginally well, so I prefer just to pour water into a bucket and scoop it out to bathe. It has the major advantage of not making you all cold all at once. Water shortages are common here in the summer so water use is somewhat limited, so I hope that I’m using the more water conscious way to bathe, but I don’t really know and I’m not sure that I really care to find out.
I am tired and need to get to sleep so that I can wake up early tomorrow.
Justin
We started out the day with a walk down beach road (as an exercise on how to walk down the street), but that ended when some people at a local private school invited us to stop in. The children were excited to see us and as luck would have it the school was preparing the children for an upcoming festival by dressing them up and having them perform the rituals (that’s the wrong word, but I don’t know what else to use). The festival is Sankranti and I really don’t have any clue what it’s about, but the real festival starts on the 14th and lasts for three days, so I’m sure that I’ll learn more then. The children really love the most outgoing people. Like I said, I’ll have to work on it. In reality I think that I’ll be more likely to be outgoing when I’m not around everyone from the program.
We did some other things, like set up internet and whatnot, but the most interesting for me was stopping by the Krishna Temple. We went inside and performed puja or worship, which included clapping and walking around the shrine as the priests chanted and clapped together symbols (along with other people from the neighborhood). After that we stood in line for water that had camphor in it, drank some, wiped the rest on our heads, and were given a food substance of some sort. I’ll have to look into the meaning of all that went on, or at least as much as I can find and let you know. The Jalaris, the people I’ll be working with, don’t really worship Krishna and Dr. Nuckolls said that 90 percent of them wouldn’t have any clue what deity the temple was even dedicated too. Local village goddesses are vastly more important to the Jalari than Krishna, Vishnu and other deities in the regular pantheon that we associate with Hinduism. Those Gods are worshipped and recognized mainly by Brahmans (and only Brahmans can become priests).
The house doesn’t have any hot water and the shower head works only marginally well, so I prefer just to pour water into a bucket and scoop it out to bathe. It has the major advantage of not making you all cold all at once. Water shortages are common here in the summer so water use is somewhat limited, so I hope that I’m using the more water conscious way to bathe, but I don’t really know and I’m not sure that I really care to find out.
I am tired and need to get to sleep so that I can wake up early tomorrow.
Justin
First India Update
I don’t know if Katie e-mailed or called people, but I’m now in Vizag and have been for the last day. I now have internet access (I pay for it by mbs), and am capable of skyping anyone who wishes to talk. Because of the time difference though, it would be better for me to talk in my morning (your afternoon), although I’m least busy around 1 or 2 in the morning (your time obviously). I will have a cell phone in the future, but I’m not sure if it will be cheaper to call or skype, because I don’t know the long distance calling rate. Either way, I’ll probably have skype up in your evening if you want to talk (although probably not for very long, an hour maybe).
Also, feel free to forward this to anyone you think might want to read this and future e-mails. So, Katie you need to send this to your family.
The flight was exhausting. I was between a bigger person and Frenchman with wide shoulders which made it nearly impossible to actually sleep. I think that all of the sleeping I did happened in 15-30 minute intervals and really only happened two or three times (I don’t actually remember very well). That’s about all the sleep I had for 40 hours or so. I was too tired to read, but too awake to sleep, so I watched movies...lots and lots of movies. Other than that everything was smooth. Several people lost luggage on the way and I feel fortunate to not be one of them, but it wouldn’t have been a big bother. I didn’t have anything important in my luggage, or at least not anything I couldn’t do without.
Just so you all know, Vizag is about 12 hours different from all of you (11 and a half from Utah).
Last night wasn’t actually all that bad. I crashed at 645 pm or so (and I CRASHED) and slept until 430, which I think was a pretty good sleep. I didn’t have any troubles falling back asleep after waking up the couple of times I did and that’s what most people complained about. At around 445 the Krishna temple which is only 3 buildings away or so opens the temple with loud bells and chanting (Hindu temples are supposed to be loud). I was already awake, but I’m glad that in the future I will have it as an alarm. We’ll see how long I stay in bed after a couple of weeks, but for now my plan is to wake up with the temple and exercise (which I did this morning). I’m fighting a headache right now, but I think that it’s a combination of jetlag and dehydration, and I’m definitely not feeling very smart. I can’t seem to remember simple things.
Vizag is a fascinating place. There are lanes on some roads, but no one seems to care either way if they’re in them or not. Drivers go where they fit. The city is a very strange mix of broken down or incomplete buildings and very nice places (all built in the last 20 years or so). The very contemporary mall (nothing on the order of the size of our malls, more like a medium sized business building 4 stories high) looks over at a 5 story building partially covered by tarps (half of two sides). I guess that I always assumed that in cities around the world there was segregation between the very poor and very rich, and there is some in India, but it’s not nearly as easy for me to see the division as in US.
There are no tourists in Vizag and people seem to be more excited to see us than we are to see them. White people are rare, especially Americans, and I have yet to see anyone outside of the program who is. It really pays to be outgoing in Vizag, so I’ll have to work on that, but it’s difficult for me to understand people (even when they speak english) and I feel rude asking them to repeat things over and over. Like I said, I’ll have to be outgoing and willing to make mistakes and talk to people, none of which I do very naturally.
The apartment/house has cement tile floors and cement walls and feels a lot like a missionary apartment (except cleaner).
Justin
Also, feel free to forward this to anyone you think might want to read this and future e-mails. So, Katie you need to send this to your family.
The flight was exhausting. I was between a bigger person and Frenchman with wide shoulders which made it nearly impossible to actually sleep. I think that all of the sleeping I did happened in 15-30 minute intervals and really only happened two or three times (I don’t actually remember very well). That’s about all the sleep I had for 40 hours or so. I was too tired to read, but too awake to sleep, so I watched movies...lots and lots of movies. Other than that everything was smooth. Several people lost luggage on the way and I feel fortunate to not be one of them, but it wouldn’t have been a big bother. I didn’t have anything important in my luggage, or at least not anything I couldn’t do without.
Just so you all know, Vizag is about 12 hours different from all of you (11 and a half from Utah).
Last night wasn’t actually all that bad. I crashed at 645 pm or so (and I CRASHED) and slept until 430, which I think was a pretty good sleep. I didn’t have any troubles falling back asleep after waking up the couple of times I did and that’s what most people complained about. At around 445 the Krishna temple which is only 3 buildings away or so opens the temple with loud bells and chanting (Hindu temples are supposed to be loud). I was already awake, but I’m glad that in the future I will have it as an alarm. We’ll see how long I stay in bed after a couple of weeks, but for now my plan is to wake up with the temple and exercise (which I did this morning). I’m fighting a headache right now, but I think that it’s a combination of jetlag and dehydration, and I’m definitely not feeling very smart. I can’t seem to remember simple things.
Vizag is a fascinating place. There are lanes on some roads, but no one seems to care either way if they’re in them or not. Drivers go where they fit. The city is a very strange mix of broken down or incomplete buildings and very nice places (all built in the last 20 years or so). The very contemporary mall (nothing on the order of the size of our malls, more like a medium sized business building 4 stories high) looks over at a 5 story building partially covered by tarps (half of two sides). I guess that I always assumed that in cities around the world there was segregation between the very poor and very rich, and there is some in India, but it’s not nearly as easy for me to see the division as in US.
There are no tourists in Vizag and people seem to be more excited to see us than we are to see them. White people are rare, especially Americans, and I have yet to see anyone outside of the program who is. It really pays to be outgoing in Vizag, so I’ll have to work on that, but it’s difficult for me to understand people (even when they speak english) and I feel rude asking them to repeat things over and over. Like I said, I’ll have to be outgoing and willing to make mistakes and talk to people, none of which I do very naturally.
The apartment/house has cement tile floors and cement walls and feels a lot like a missionary apartment (except cleaner).
Justin
Update!
- We moved to California after Collins wedding. We are living with Justin's parents. The weather is fabulous about 58 degrees every day!
- Our baby is no longer a baby he walks around everywhere now. It is so cute. He is also learning how to run. He will not stay in his high chair anymore. He also figured out how to get out of being tied in...
- Justin is now in India!!! he working on getting adjusted to the time change and waking up at 4:30 every morning. I will be posting his e-mails for those that are interested in his eastern adventures.
- School has started again for me. I am waiting for financial aide so I can buy my books so I pretty much can't do anything with school right now.
- We have 2 terrariums to house our orchids. The plants seem to be enjoying them and doing quite well.
- The little guy passed away last week. It was sad. He just did not adjust well. So, Risky is a little lonely, but I think he is happy to be getting out more.
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