My First Monsoon, I’m a Real Indian Now

After a few posts on traveling, I decided to write about my roots. After months of downpours and cloudy skies, I saw the sun for the first time.  It was great! I actually kind of forgot how bright it could be. This is cause for a celebration of another milestone, I’ve survived my first monsoon. I loved the monsoon, when I didn’t have to go outside. But I loved listening to the rain and the way it would wash my feet when they inevitably got dirty from walking on the street. It made the once brown and dead fields lush and green, right now everything looks like a rain forest and it’s so pretty! The rain also helped keep the dust down so now my eyes are itchy and watery as ever. But it’s still nice to see the sun. This also means that the solar-powered water heater for my building is also seeing sun which means no more ice cold, but lukewarm showers! I am really living the life now. This also means my laundry will get some warm water too. Laundry probably means something different to me than it does to you. I remember being lazy and piling up a month’s worth of laundry and doing five loads over two days. I now do about two loads every week. Laundry consists of soaking my clothes in water, and then wringing them out to get the excess dirt out. Then it requires a nice beatdown with a bar of detergent. From there it soaks in detergent water overnight. Then I have to manually rinse all the detergent out of the clothes, which is the most time-consuming part. What I usually do is squeeze all the soapy water out of the clothes that I can, and then soak them in water, and then squeeze out all the soapy water again. I do about four or five iterations of this until the water in the bucket is absolutely clear. Then I leave the clothes in regular water for about an hour to get the detergent smell out of them and wring them one last time before finding creative ways to hang them in my bathroom. Once they have been hanging in the bathroom for a few hours, they have stopped dripping and I move them out to my kitchen area where there is a long bar that I use to hang the clothes for the next day while they dry completely. One load of laundry takes about three days from start until being completely dry to wear. So I have to plan, running low on underwear now means only having a week’s worth left. I don’t mind it, I actually enjoy it and I feel that there is a lot of energy and water wasted with washing machines and dryers. But don’t get me wrong I will be using those appliances when I get home. I just think it adds to my Indian cred.

The second thing about Indian cred is using public transport. I’ve written before that the bus numbers are in Hindi script and they don’t really stop so you have to know and commit to getting on the bus while it’s still moving. I live near a small mall, but there is a really large one about ten miles away. It has nice stores and good restaurants. So if I need something Western, or am looking for good food, or just want to kill a few hours I make my way over there. I also usually meet friends there for the same reasons. Thus I developed the habit of going over there pretty regularly, and usually by auto or taxi. This costs about Rs. 250 each way, which is $5. Not so bad for a 20 minute ride. But this has been eating into my meager stipend so I decided I would get there by public transport. For me that means I still take an auto to the train station, take the train, and then take another auto at my destination. But I decided I was going to go at it totally Indian style. So I walked out to the point where I usually get my auto because I knew the bus goes by there. The bus started rolling up and I decided to hop on. Indians are so nice, and I knew people would help me if I asked for help. Sometimes I get help without asking for it too! Anyway I asked “rail station?” and the fare collector bobbed yes and I paid my Rs. 4 for my ride to the train station. That’s 8 cents. I got to the train station and was debating whether I should pay for a roundtrip rail ticket because I might change my mind and still come home by cab. Well each way costs Rs. 7 so I would only lose about 14 cents if I changed my mind later. So I decided to get the Rs. 14 roundtrip and spent the next half hour on the train. I got off at the rail station, and I did my research beforehand so I knew I could just walk to the mall. After my shopping, I decided I would take the train back home. I walked back to the train station, took the train, and then took the bus home. We were squeezed like sardines on the bus, and I prepared to get off at my stop. Well the fare collector didn’t have a chance to get to me so he didn’t know anybody had to get off at that stop, and the bus wasn’t slowing down. I made my way to the edge of the stairs, and once the bus slowed down at an intersection I jumped off. Well when I jumped it turns out the bus started moving again so I actually jumped off a moving bus. I was fine though and made my way home. I spent Rs. 19 to get to and from the mall I usually spend Rs. 500 getting to and from. I was grinning while walking home because I did it! I felt authentic and that I accomplished what I set out to do. Part of being here is to have the real Indian experience, and taking air-conditioned cabs just made me feel a little like a fraud and elitist. But now I can navigate the public transport with the best of them. Plus it helps knowing that people will have your back.

Trying Times and Front Row at Kolkata Fashion Week

I’ll be totally honest and admit that my first couple months of being here were tough, being separated from family and friends in a very foreign country in almost total isolation were very tough on me. These months tested how much I could take mentally, socially, and emotionally and there were times where I questioned whether it was all worth it. There were times when I thought it easier just to give up and go home to perfect San Diego weather with my family and eat all the beef, Mexican food, sushi, and chocolate chip cookies that I want. However in this last month I have reached a point in my journey where I am genuinely glad to be here, and to be living this very unique opportunity. The times where I thought I would break, I didn’t, and I am now a stronger, better person for it. I have more respect and awareness for myself and my capacities, as well as a new perspective on the human condition. If you aren’t pushed to your brink, then how will you know what you are capable of? How will you grow and cultivate yourself as a person? For too long I was comfortable with my life and being here has made me realize how much life there is to live. I am deeply grateful for the chance to be here and learn these timeless life lessons. I know I will come out a better person, and I will have memories and lessons to take away that I might have never learned.

On a lighter note, this new appreciation for my opportunity here has partially translated into more traveling! My friend invited me to go to Kolkata (Calcutta) for the weekend and I jumped at the chance. I was excited to see this famed city and yes, a part of me just wanted to get out of Navi Mumbai! Getting to the airport requires an auto ride, then one and a half hours on the train, then another auto ride, and making sure to get to the airport early enough to pass screening for entrance into the airport, check in, and security. So for my 8:15PM flight I left my house at 4:15PM. I usually get past security quickly because there are separate lines for men and women, and there are usually about 5 women and 100 men. After getting a chicken sandwich for dinner, I met a fellow Accenturite! (spelling?) He’s an SAP consultant based out of Bangalore but traveling to Mumbai for the client. His next staffing opportunities include a choice among Stockholm, Indianapolis, and Singapore. So unfair! Anyway, our flights were about five minutes apart so we spent some time talking about how great consultant and Accenture life is (I’m not joking).  I know that at certain times of the year, like after annual reviews, people can be a little disillusioned with Accenture. However I can tell you that after being a poor NGO worker for the past six months, Accenture is a heavenly dream. Health care! Dental care! Life insurance! 401k! Traveling! Hotels! Rental cars! And of course, really great people (still not joking). So to all those people who diss on the corporate life or complain about their jobs, I invite you to spend a week here with me living on my $7 a day and then tell me how much you want to quit.

Back to my story. I get to Kolkata, and the hotel we are staying at is on the famed Sudder St., pretty much the most poverty-stricken, dingy part of India I have been to so far. The hotel is nice, but the street’s characters were definitely a highlight of the trip. Every person was incredibly nice (except this one old lady) and as Indians, always eager to help. I crashed pretty hard after watching Family Guy (TV!) in the hotel room and was ready for a day of sightseeing. If you can believe it, Kolkata is more humid than Mumbai. I don’t know how you get more humid than 100% Mumbai humidity but you can. We saw the sights and then went back to the hotel to get ready to go to a fashion show. I did not have high expectations for this show. I half expected it to take place in a TGIF room with no catwalk and the models walking down the center of the restaurant. I had never been to a fashion show so I was excited but I wasn’t expecting Christian Siriano. Anyway we get there and the hotel is really nice. Not a bad start. We get shown to the ballroom where the shows will be taking place and it is really nice. A nice runway with full lighting and a really great DJ. Oh, and did I mention that we were front row? And this was Kolkata Fashion Week? Yea, we’re pretty  dope.  The dresses were beautiful, and after spying on all the models’ footwear I really, really miss wearing heels. I have not worn heels for six months and currently do not have any in my possession. I think once I get home I will only wear heels for at least a month. Oh and the models were gorgeous too. After the fashion show we are ushered to the after party in the hotel bar, which again is really nice.

Show 2 of the night.

The designer and her beautiful dresses from show 2.

The first day of Durja Puja started while we were here. Durja Puja is a six-day festival that celebrates Hindu Goddess, Durja. In West Bengal (where Kolkata is), it’s the biggest annual festival. It also includes the worship of Shiva, who is Durja’s husband (and if you remember from the previous post, Ganesha’s dad and mom!) There are more than 2000 pandals set up in Kolkata, and the city is covered with lights. Lots of tourists come to go “pandal-hopping” which often stops traffic. It’s referred to as the Rio Carnival of the Eastern Hemisphere. How lucky am I! Ganesh Chaturthi and Durja Puja!

Durja Puja pandal.

Sunday consisted of more sightseeing and relaxing. Both our flights were that night, to different cities, so we headed to the airport. All in all, a very nice weekend. From Sudder St. to Kolkata Fashion Week, I experienced the new and old, the privileged and unprivileged of Kolkata.

Kolkata is one of the few places in the world with hand-pulled rickshaws.

India's Clean Heart

My roommate and I decided to brave the public buses for the first time last Saturday. By braving the buses, I mean that, for me, buses are the most intimidating form of public transportation. Subways and light rail have signs with clearly labeled directions and stops and maps. With buses, you have to be sure you're on the side of the road going in the right direction, you have to know where the bus stop is, and you have to be familiar with the destination area to know where to get off the bus. On top of it all, the buses in Mumbai have the route numbers in Hindi script (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indian_numerals) so you have to make sure your Hindi is good enough to know you're getting on the right bus. Once you've determined you're at the right bus stop going in the right direction, then there's the problem of actually getting onto the bus. Buses in India don't really stop, they slow down to a crawl while people exit from the front of the bus and people jump on at the back, and speed up again once everyone is physically on the bus. Not sitting, not even completely off the stairs getting onto the bus. Once all limbs and belongings are within the doorframe of the bus, it speeds up. I made sure my feet were planted right within the threshold of the bus, and got a good grip on the rail while my purse was still hanging out of the bus, it started on its way. I very much like this system, it is very efficient and shows there is no need for the bus to wait while all people exit and enter the bus from the same door and wait for all the passengers to pay. While waiting for my first bus ride, an older man started talking to me. I happened to wearing my "I'm not a tourist. I live here" shirt that's written in Hindi. He was asking about it and asked how I was liking India. Every Indian I've talked to has asked how I like India. Understandably, Indians have pride in their country. India is unlike any place I've been before and you can feel the whole country is on the brink of realizing its full potential in becoming a real power in the international arena. While standing on the unpaved side of the road, near the ubiquitous litter that lines the streets, in the midst of all the honking and the dust and pollution in the air, he looked at me and said "India is not clean, but our heart is clean." I knew exactly what he meant. And I know my attempt to explain it right now will be futile, but I will try.

Being in India is definitely sensory overload. There is so much noise, people, smells, and things happening that it's overwhelming. The crowdedness and business along with the pollution and litter can mix together that doesn't always give the impression of being clean. The crowdedness and lack of space lead to a different culture of lines and customer service. I'm used to standing at the counter and waiting for someone to help me promptly, and as soon as they're ready. Here, I've noticed that people think I'm just standing there, with so much space between myself and the counter, that they go up to the counter and ask for help directly. I didn't feel like someone just cut in front of me, I realized that customer service operates a little differently here and you have to make it clear that you are waiting for something or someone. Despite all of this, I've noticed that people love India and want you to love it too. They will speak English to you, but a few words of Hindi lights up their faces because they are so excited that a foreigner would try to learn some of their language. One man at a linen shop I was at would speak to me rapidly in Hindi for about a minute for each Hindi word I was able to communicate with him. When I demonstrated I didn't understand, he would stop talking but his excitement would set him off again at my next Hindi word. Even at the bus stop, one of the young women overheard our conversation with the man and helped us get onto the right bus and told us when to get off. Every person I've asked for help has gone out of his/her way to help me. People here love India, and want others to see its beauty and love it like they do. Isn't that the sign of a clean heart?