I will be in Malaysia in less than 24 hours, which means I better wrap up India before I get lost in another country.
India was pretty fantastic. To be honest, it was one of the least impressive ports we’ve come into, and when you wake up at 5:30 AM after losing half an hour (yes, half) from crossing time zones, you kinda hope to see a pretty sunrise and a neat port. Well, we couldn’t even tell if the sun had rose, it just kept getting lighter outside so we finally assumed the sun was up somewhere. There were a few whispy pink clouds, but that was the extent of the sunrise. The skyline of Chennai was also less than impressive, especially when Salvador and Cape Town were absolutely beautiful. Oh well.
Getting of the ship was a nightmare. I was dead tired because I had slept very little the night before, so I wanted to spend the morning sleeping after I had eaten breakfast. Instead, I spent the morning listening to announcements every 15 minutes. Customs officials were checking our papers and passports and we had to go up according to when our number was called. Lucky for me, I was number 842, so I had to wait for most numbers to be called instead of getting it over with and popping earplugs in. After we got our passports checked there was another line to get entrance cards stamped, and I opted to not wait in the line of a few hundred students.
Anyway, after the mess of getting things checked, I think the ship was cleared around 11:30 or so, which meant it was lunchtime. Krista and I decided we were just going to stay on the ship until our welcome reception in the evening because we had no idea where we would go for 5 hours. Our ship was located in a shipping yard. Our view from the ship was hundreds of new cars lined up, waiting to be put on ships to head elsewhere, and it took about 20 minutes to walk to the exit gate to get a rickshaw. The customs authorities only allowed workers and us through the gates, and we had to get our landing cards and IDs checked every time we left and entered. Few rickshaw and taxi drivers had the right documentation to get through the gates, so we had to go to them. Inside the gates, the only thing close to us to do was a duty-free shop. I spent the afternoon sleeping, and I seriously needed it. At lunch I was dead tired and I was not enjoying anything in the slightest, so although I feel a bit like I wasted a day in India, I know it was for the best. I wanted to keep my immune system as healthy as possible.
The SAS-sponsored welcome reception was my first venture into the country of India, and it was by bus. We went through Chennai to an place that can only really be described as an outdoor reception area. We were greeted by university students of Chennai who put tumeric bindis on our foreheads and leis made of AMAZING smelling fresh-flowers around our necks. Music was being played as we arrived. A student greeted Krista and I and led us to food, where there was a sampling of traditional Indian cuisine from breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We were explained what the name of everything was but I forgot it within a minute. The only thing I remember was the chutney, and it was tasty! Some things we ate were bland and some were spicy, so in combination they worked with one another. At one point Krista and I were eating a delicious fried-nut-concoction when we suddenly looked at each other. We both had discovered the the delicious-fried-nut-concoction had, in fact, ultra-spicy-stealthy peppers inside. At the same time we both discovered these spice explosions and our mouths were on fire for a good while. Krista had tears in her eyes and I was completely distracted by the intensity. However, our meal ended with a little doughy ball which was covered in some super sweet syrup and they were scrumptious. We ate with our hands, as Indians normally do, and I was pretty amazing eating with my right hand and holding my video camera with another, because there were dancers performing traditional dances from south India for us. The moves were hundreds of years old, and they were fascinating. The dance is really a bunch of singular movements put together, and everything means something. The dancers’ faces were highly expressive to depict emotion and their hands were constantly changing into new signs. It was fantastic and I’m really glad I had my video camera to capture it all.
There were a few merchants allowed to come in to sell handicrafts. I brought about $60 worth of rupees with me, thinking I wouldn’t spend it all, but I was wrong. Krista wanted to look at jewelry first, and I instantly fell in love with a hand-made sterling silver bracelet with carved elephants in it. I tried to bargain to get another bracelet with it but it was not happening. I was really looking for something to get my mom, not me, because I knew she would like the silver jewelry. Sorry mom, I got the bracelet for myself, haha.
Finally, there were girls drawing henna tattoos on everyone’s hands (for free yay), so we all took a turn and got some before we had to leave. It was a pretty short reception which was a bummer and the Indian students couldn’t stay for all of it. I was hoping to get a better chance to interact but we didn’t really; I think we outnumbered them as well.
The next day I had an early morning. I was up and at the buses by 6:45 AM to leave for Kancheepuram and Mamallapuram, two cities with hundreds of temples. Kancheepurum means the Golden City, although there is nothing gold about it, and it’s also known as the “city of 1,000 temples.” The first temple we went to was my favorite, despite the warning from our tour guide, telling us not to let anyone come near us—beggars, hawkers, etc.—because Al Queda has a presence in the area and he was warned by the police to keep an eye on us. Eep.
Anyway, the first temple we went to was amazing. We had to remove our shoes at the entrance, and I loved feeling the stone under my feet—it was constructed in 710, entirely of stone, and still remains today. It was covered in pillars, cubbies, wall panels, you name it, all of which were covered in Hindu carvings. I had a hard time finding a match of the carvings, it seemed like everything was unique. Without pictures it’s difficult to justify, but almost every inch was covered except for the smooth floor. Even places where carving would prove to be difficult, there were instead frescoes painted (most of which had long since disintegrated, but partially remained to prove their existence). What helped make this experience so neat was running into about a dozen Hindu women coming to worship for the day. Our guide asked them if they would mind us talking to them, and they graciously waited for him to explain their attire (married women can wear certain necklaces and toe rings; widows cannot wear jewelry and they do not get ritual bindis on their foreheads, instead the ash is smeared on the forehead). One of the professors on the tour did her dissertation on ancient architecture, so she enquired about the “womb chamber” and our guide got permission for all of us to go inside. A priest, dressed in nothing but a traditional male’s skirt, performed a short ritual for us to see. He took a tray of ash and circled it clockwise around a large lingam statue, decorated in flowers, and said something (couldn’t hear). He then came and put ash on each of our heads in turn and blessed us (I guess is the best word?). It was short but sweet, and the tiny, humid, stone room had a lot of energy flowing through it. It was probably the highlight of the day.
We went to various other temples throughout the day, including one that was 10 stories tall and had a hall of 96 pillars, of course which were all decorated. We removed our shoes for this temple, too, although it seemed less personal of an experience. It was much more touristy than the first temple. After this, we transferred to a shop where saris are made. They are still made by hand, because mechanization would cost too many needed jobs. We saw the giant looms where men pulled strings, pushed foot pedals, and threaded different colored silk through the looms. It takes 12 days to make a full sari, 6 yards of fabric, and then another few days to make the petticoat and top to match. They make three saris of the same pattern at the same time, so men spend about 45 days on the same pattern, and one of the SASers remarked that they’re probably putting in more time than 8 hours a day.
We ate lunch at a resort after a drive to Mahabalipuram/Mamallapuram (and it’s still creepy going to manicured gardens and sitting on beautiful furniture after looking at such extreme poverty, health problems, and sanitation concerns on the streets right outside the gates). It was a lunch buffet of mostly Indian food, and it was amazing! I really did not think I was going to like Indian food much, but I tried as much as I could, and I’m glad I did. I still really like chutney, and although I still haven’t figured out what I’m supposed to eat it with, I’m ready to go to Indian restaurants back home. Also, I must say their desert bar was exquisite—there was mango ice cream and some sort of sugar treat. Oh man. Delicious.
We visited a few more temples after this, including the Five Rathas, stone caves, Arjuna’s Penance, and more…I can’t even remember it all. It was a crash course in stone temples. One of my favorites was called the “butter ball,” which Krishna placed on a steep rock face. It’s a giant boulder hanging on somehow, barely staying where it is. I feel like an earthquake would move it, but it was so close to the beach, and the tsunami was recently, but it’s still intact. Local legend says that when the boulder teeters off of it’s spot, the world will end. The Shore Temple was the last stop of the day. It’s a large ancient temple on the beach, and is supposedly the last surviving temple of 8. It, too was impressive to see, although all the temples began to look similar to me.
At this point in the day everyone was exhausted—we spent half the day on the bus. I tried to sleep but I never can. We missed dinner so I hung out with some people who remained in port (Chelsea included) at the Piano Bar and ordered my first ship pizza (wasn’t impressed), and it was really nice. At this point, everyone who went on trip (most of the ship) had left at this point, so it was probably about 50 people on the whole ship. It was blissful the whole time, and we got a chance to eat breakfast/lunch/dinner with staff and professors and talk with them a little bit. I kinda liked it.
The next day I slept in, and it felt so good! Chelsea and I ate lunch on the ship and met up with an RD on the ship, Mario, and went shopping. We opted to walk to the street to get a rickshaw, because we heard the ones right outside the port gate have bad habits of stopping at shops (in which they get commission from) instead of taking you right to your destination. We walked across a pedestrian walkway which went over train tracks and down to the street (although a rickshaw driver near the gate insisted we would find nothing but a train station—we should let him drive us), where a local market area lined the road. There was no sidewalk, so we walked down the edge of the street. I needed to get to the ATM because I didn’t bring enough US money to exchange (there were people exchanging money right on the ship this port, which was ridiculously convenient). We also found the post office so I bought some stamps. It was harder here to get a rickshaw driver who spoke English, but we finally found one who knew where to take us, and understood exactly how much we were willing to pay. I had no problem the whole time with rickshaw drivers; I think I know how to look for them and I’m not worried about being adamant about what I’ll pay and where I don’t want to go—I think some people are still nervous about bargaining and they want to be courteous.
We did some damage shopping—except I spent little money. We first went to T. Nagar, a main street type place with nice, air-conditioned shops and then booths lining the streets. After, we went to Spencer’s Plaza, that was like China’s silk-market in mall form. It was 5 stories of merchants, booths, specialty stores, and you could bargain in some, and others were affordable. Food places cropped up here and there and supposedly there was a movie theatre somewhere, but the mall was so immense, confusing, and repetitive we didn’t get far. We also decided to get home before dark. It had been raining all day and we wanted free dinner on the ship. The rickshaws were great the whole day, even though they were exposed to the elements and it was pouring rain part of the time. I totally dig auto-rickshaws.
The next day I had planned to go out with Anna (from Florida). She had gone on a trip to an Art of Living Institute, and the jury is still out on that one (I’ve heard it’s interesting, but also like a cult a bit). She wasn’t feeling well so we stayed in for the morning and went out after lunch, with anther Anna (from Wisconsin, who was also my roommate in Atlantis). We tried another mall based on the recommendations from one of the Indian men staffing the hospitality desk on board the ship. He sent us to City Center, which turned out to be a Western mall, with clothing stores and Western companies, which was a bit of a bummer. We did find a bookstore though, where I acquired an Indian Vogue, an Indian Business Magazine (which had Obama, Clinton, and McCain on the cover), and some cardstock for the Ambassador’s Ball invitations (in which I need to make soon). I’m really glad I bought the magazines—the Vogue is completely interesting because it’s really geared more toward Indian women and not necessarily Westerners, and the article in the business mag was interesting to read, too. The main article discusses if America can see past Obama’s skin color, and it goes as far to say
“Will a majority of white Americans accept Barack Obama as their President if he defeats Hillary Clinton and wins the nomination at the Democratic Candidate? Or will a minority of loud and abusive white supremacists and a majority of silent and guilt ridden but helpless white racists prefer the softer option and usher in war hero and Republican candidate John McCain as the next President?”
Whoa. Anyway, after the bookstore we tried some real fruit smoothies, in which I realized after I drank it had ice and now I may have a parasite…oops…and we went to a movie. We chose one in Tamil, had no idea what was going on, but it was a great experience. There was random scenes of violence (which were mild), only one dance scene (men in a bar…the cleared the tables out of the way before breaking into song), and nothing sexual (not even a kiss, but there was a woman fantasizing about dancing with her beloved). People in the movie would chat on their cell phones, yell at the characters, and had no issues with discussing the plot with everyone around them. It was a great experience (there was even a snackbar with curry puffs! I don’t know what they are but just how much cooler is it to ask for a curry puff than some popcorn?). We left at intermission, which was almost 2 hours after the beginning.
So, once again, this is a ginormous entry. I’m on my 5th page in Word, and it’s single spaced. Sorry people. It’s worth it though, I saved the best for last.
The last day was my day for volunteering. I went with an SAS group to a disabled children’s home. We got a tour of the facilities, first seeing where mentally handicapped people worked. They had rudimentary workshops where they made together pads of paper or stamped certain tickets. Some girls came to learn to sew for two years, and they then take their craft back home. We visited an area where there is a hospital. The administrative offices were small. They took us to the room where X-rays were taken and processed, and I could barely comprehend I was in a hospital, it was so the opposite of sterile. The only air-conditioned room was the admin office, which wasn’t much bigger than my ship cabin. Every other room didn’t have glass over the windows, just bars. We moved to an area outside, and a leg mold was stuck in the mud to dry in the sun…a prosthetic leg was inside, I think. The casting area was like a workshop in my dad’s garage…random tools, and two men at two work tables, one making foot molds, the other forming legs. Next door one of the residents of the home was making sandals. We went to room with patients, and it was at this point it hit me that I was in a hospital. This was where people go to get treatment, and it was not clean! It was not comfortable! It was small, cramped, exposed to the outdoors…a man was getting his bandages changed in the first room, and I didn’t dare look in because the sink for the bandages was filthy. I almost started to cry at this point because it was overwhelmingly inferior to what I’m used to. I felt bad for the woman leading us around, because how do you stay excited and interested in what she has to show you when you know it’s inadequate? And this was a good clinic for people to be treated, they had about 40 cases a day, this wasn’t a random overflow hospital, it was a main hospital. I don’t even know.
At some point we encountered some of the kids that we had come to see. They were all so happy to see us, so friendly, so ready to meet us. Some of them were sitting on boards with wheels (like I used to play with in P.E.) because they couldn’t walk far; most of the older kids suffered from polio. There was also a man who could use nothing but his feet (similar to the story “My Left Foot”) and he knows how to use a computer, paint, sew, do all this amazing stuff. He had put together a montage on the computer about himself. He sold some of his paintings, and he had never even seen the lakes he painted, the pots of flowers, the trees…he had never left the home and clinic. He was found in the trash when he was young, by one of the women in the home, because he was moving his toes. Gah.
We were split up into groups to do some volunteer work, either painting a mural (several SAS groups over the years painted, it was really cool to see all of their contributions over the years), moving sewing machines, or gardening. I volunteered to do gardening, because the woman at the home said “we need 8 people who can handle working in the sun” and as a resident of the Arizona desert I felt obligated, because I knew some of my peers could not handle the heat as well as me (and it was the first hot, sunny day in Chennai since we had arrived). I spend almost two hours hunched over with a weird shovel, clearing an area of weeds, grass, and leaves. The tools were really basic, they didn’t have a rake, and we didn’t have gloves. I’m not gonna lie, it was freaking tough. We felt bad, 7 girls stopping to stand in the shade and drink water while another Indian guy kept working, but we were feeling lightheaded. Oh man, it was rough. But I can say I am happy the girls I was with complained little. There are some complainers on this ship, and thankfully none of them were gardening with me.
BUT we were rewarded with HOMEMADE INDIAN LUNCH and it was DELICIOUS! It was served on banana leaves, and it was so tasty. After lunch we got to hang out with kids—older kids who were mostly physically disabled in one room, young kids with mental disabilities in another. I guess the children’s home used to be for polio but it’s almost completely eradicated so it’s begun focusing on mental disorders. I went to the older kids room, and I spent most of my time with a girl who seemed shy and tucked away at the edge of the room, doing her own thing. She didn’t speak a lot of English like the other kids, and I think she was really self-conscious about it, so we sat in silence most of the time and we played solitaire (the marble game). I was surprised to learn she was 17, I think she had mental problems rather than physical ones, but it didn’t matter. The kids in the room got ahold of all of the SASers cameras and were running around taking pictures of each other and then looking at them on the screens. At one point I went to the young kids room, and it was a hurricane of energy. My camera almost got destroyed by the most rambunctious kid I’ve met (my fault, not his, I shouldn’t have even let him see it) and one of them drew blood from my nose somehow. While some kids were really sweet, I was not prepared for the firestorm that surrounded me, so I went back to the big kids room to finish out playtime.
At this point we were allowed to ask questions to one of the senior volunteers. We learned that many of the mental disabilities were caused between intermarriage between families or improper delivery at birth—often the forceps are used too roughly and babies’ heads are crushed. That was hard to hear. Parents pay an average of 100 rupees ($2.25 or so) a month, and it really was to make the parents have a visiting time with their children rather than need. The home was funded through government subsidies and donations (with Institute for Shipboard Education Students being in the top 5 of benefactors).
The day was wrapped up with 10 of the kids being able to follow us back to the ship for a tour. After some complications were sorted out, I offered to show them around, which was exciting for them and me. There wasn’t a whole lot of time but I think they enjoyed it. I stuck with some of the teachers from the home who were excited to see classrooms and were asking questions…I know some of my peers had grown attached to the kids and wanted to stay with them as long as possible, and even though they had a hard time walking the still drug SASers around the ship looking at things like kids do. It was a great way to help see they way I live through another’s eyes—one woman kept saying to me “it’s very nice!” for almost everything. It never hurts to be reminded how fortunate I am, and although it was weird showing them this amazing, immaculate-feeling ship when they live in the complete opposite, I was still proud to walk around with them.
Anyway, the kids soon had to leave and I had to have my face-to-face meeting with customs before leaving (everyone had to do this). That’s pretty much it for my experience in India! I’m still processing it, but there wasn’t much time to let it settle. I’m now trying to figure out how, when, and if I’m going to Kuala Lumpur on Thursday. Pff, what a weird thing to say, haha.
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
cold
disappointed
