Daily Life

For some reason, this website began showing up in Dutch or something, so I hope I can click the right buttons to post correctly. I am at the library, and one never knows what to expect from these old computers.

I figured I'd give a quick description of what daily life is like here. First of all, it's HOT! To be honest, I haven't actually ever seen a thermometer here, but if I had to guess I'd say it was about 70-80 Degrees out most days- and this is only the winter! In the coming months it should get up to over a hundred on an average day. The heat, combined with my hostel's location up a bumpy dirt road two miles from the main campus, makes for a very sweaty lifestyle. And unfortunately, I am cultivating a fantastic farmer's tan.

I start off each day with some morning meditation, which we have been learning about from Dr. Vasudeva Rao. Then I head downstairs for a breakfast of toast, curd (yogurt.. possibly from a water buffalo?), banana, fresh fruit juice, and tea from 8-9am. The mess hall has us on a strict meal schedule, and I find my mouth watering by 1pm for lunch. Lunch is usually some sort of fresh vegis, roti (flat bread), rice, curried potatoes and vegis, and dal (lentils). Dinner is from 7-8pm, and is usually a different version of similar ingredients to lunch. We get very excited for dosa nights, as dosas are delicious wraps similar to crepes with cheese, masala, gobi (cauliflower) and whatever else you want inside them. Lussies are also one of my favorites, and they are like a sweet yogurty milkshake. The kitchen staff is a bunch of characters also, so meals are always interesting.

Mondays and Wednesdays are my easy days, where I spend as much time in the painting studio as I can, and only have one real class from 4-5pm (Hindi). Then I have tabla lessons at 6. The tabla is an instrument similar to the bongos, and it usually accompanies the sitar or kathak dancers. Tuesdays and Thursdays are pretty exhausting, beginning with the race down from breakfast to class at 9, for Sociology of Health, Sickness and Healing. It is a very interesting topic, but a pretty dry class. We have a two hour lecture that could probably be condensed into about 20 minutes. Before that class is over at 11, I have to get up and leave quietly so I can make it to my next class back on my hostel's side of campus which starts at 11 (hmmm?). That is my Cognitive Psychology class, which I arrive to panting and sweating profusely. I have class with younger students, about my brother's age, (UOH is a graduate university, except for this integrated studies program which is a 5 year program for undergraduates, and this major will be the first group of Psychology students to graduate in India) who are often moved by the professor because they talk in class. I enjoy the course, and it is very great to be able to study Psychology here, but the 2 hour classes really do take a toll on my attention span. So Psych goes from 11-1, and I am starving for lunch. Then it's Hindi at 4 again with the lovely Bhavani, then Hindi tutoring with Tabussom (Super awesome Muslim graduate student, studying for her PhD in Deccan Hindi) at 5. If it's Tuesday, Meditation class at 6.

Sometimes my constant bike rides up and down these bumpy roads reminds me of when Helen and I were younger, biking around Quonnie in the summer on Nana's red bike. The temperature is right, the speedbumps are right, and there are rocks protruding from the ground everywhere. People sit on the back racks of the bikes just like we used to. And it still REALLY hurts to go over the bumps if you're on the back. If I close my eyes (quickly!), and listen to a plane going overhead, and notice the hot sun on my face, it's great to feel that sense of a home from my youth.

Evenings are usually spent reading, practicing tabla, hanging out with friends on the balconies of our hostel, planning our next trips, exploring the city, or, every once in a while, studying. As time goes on, and I get to know the students in my classes even better, I hope to hang out more with them too! I have a few good friends in my Psych class, as well as my Painting class. However it is much more difficult here than I had expected to make Indian friends. The concept of arranged marriages in this country adds an interesting dynamic to the situation. The boys make it too easy, as they would LOVE to have an American girl friend. (The other day I found a note on my bicycle that read "Dope iz Kool, <3 S.A."). The day before that, I took a ride on the back of a guy's motorbike, because my tire was flat, and it takes 45 minutes to walk to the other side of campus. After I thanked him, he immediately asked for my phone number. (I declined). I do not really trust these boys' intentions, although I am sure most of them are perfectly harmless and wonderful people. The girls, on the other hand, do not like the attention we receive, and are not as quick to approach us. But I have been working my way through these barriers, and will miss the great Indian students I have met as much as the great American students in my program.

So that's a taste of my routine here. It can be frustrating at times, and amazing at other times. Every day I learn something new about this place. This afternoon, I am off to the state of Karnataka for the weekend, to visit the ruins at Hampii with a couple of friends. I hear there are lots of monkeys. Woo!