My Days

Hey everyone. Sorry it has been so long since my last email, but stops at internet cafes have been less than frequent. Hopefully things will settle down a tad soon with my schedule and all. Speaking of schedule, I am starting to have a little bit of a regular time frame of activities. My weekdays are pretty much like this.

7:00- I get up when the power goes out and take my shower from a bucket in the dark. Because of electric conservation everyday different sections of the city endure a scheduled power outage. At home, it is from 7-9 am, and then at school it is from 9-11 am. For 4 hours each day I am without power. It is not a nuisance, but with the ceiling fans not blowing-a must in each room in India-the classroom can get very warm.

7:30- Breakfast. Usually white bread American style with jam or butter. Sometimes I will have an egg or an “omlet sandwich” which I am becoming fond of. I always have chai, the real stuff, not the fake American stuff. I think that while I am here I will drink tons of Indian chai just to make up for the poor quality of any American coffeeshop chai.

8:00-I leave for school with Garland. She goes to the University of Pittsburgh in Pennsylvania and her homestay is just a block away from mine. There are so many people on this program who either go to school in Pennsylvania (Penn State, Allegheny College, University of Pittsburgh) or are from the state. Its crazy!

9-10:00-Hindi class. I mostly observe so far. My hindi is far more advanced than any that the class will study up to and the teacher, Rajul, does NOT know what to do with me. It is fun to see everyone learning Hindi, but Rajul moves so fast they are becoming lost and I am starting to be a pseudo teacher/tutor for those who are confused. I don’t mind at all because it is really good practice for me.

10-10:30-Chai break. Raguji, the employed man at the MSID office who isn’t quite a servant or a janitor, but who is a peer employed to make tea and look after the place, serves us all chai in little teacups and we get to socialize.

10:30-12:30-We have one of our core classes during this time: International Development Theory, Cross Cultural Perspectives, or the India Country Analysis. This hour is either very interesting (globalization theory) or very boring (ancient Indian history which I don’t think is very relevant).

12:30-1:30-Lunch. Everyday our host family packs us a lunch for school. I usually get chapattis with some sort of vegetable and a green citrus fruit that I eat like an orange. I don’t know what its name is, but from the outside it looks like a big lime, but it is sweet like an orange and is becoming one of my favorite Indian things to eat.

1:30-2:30-Hindi again.

After 2:30 we are free to pursue what we want. So far this week my excursions have largely been to try to see parts of the city and get aquaitined with the environment. On Wednesday I went to Gaurav Towers, a shopping plaza (like a mall) that has tons of different stuff (McDonald’s, Pizza Hut, grocery store and department store). MSID had shown us Gaurav briefly while it was closed, so it was nice to see it all in action. We were told its quite the "hopping" place at night with the young crowd. It was really nice to go there, but it is slightly far away and I can't go there all the time.

Last Thursday I went to see a Bollywood movie at Raj Mandir. We went to see DHOOM. It was all in Hindi and most of the girls that went don't speak very much Hindi, so I was trying to understand enough to tell them what was going on. If you have never seen a Hindi movie, you should rent one. In and of themselves they are a crazy crazy thing. The dancing, the singing. Plus, there weren't many women there and no other non-Indians, so we got stared at alot by all the men. I was so happy that they have separate sections for men and women in the theater (and separate ticket lines too) so that I wasn't sitting next to some shady Indian man. We got out of the theater to find out that it was raining, and had been for 2 hours. The streets were flooded and everyone found an autorickshaw except for me. So here I was, alone and in the rain. I was negotiating with a rickshaw driver about a ride when a little street girl, covered in mud, started pulling at me begging. Even though he was asking too much, I jumped in the auto trying to escape what seemed like, to me the CRAZIEST situation.

I feel bad because I am always playing catchup with this weblog, but I will update it soon, with all the news about last weekend, and about my birthday (which was Monday for those who might have forgot!). Thanks to everyone for sending me messages telling me you remembered! I appreciate it tons.

These last two sections are papers I have written for school, kind of journal entries. I thought they might be interesting for you to read.

Leslie J. Jorgensen
POR #1
Cross Cultural Perspectives

On Wednesday of this week, a small group of MSIDers, myself, Alicia, Arwen, Jenny, Kevin and Anthony decided we wished to go explore a part of Gaurav Towers. Since there were so many of us be broke off into pairs and determined we would meet later at Coffee Day Café. Kevin and I wandered off to find an auto to take us there, and found a ride for the price we asked (Rs. 40).

Neither of us had ever been to Gaurav Tower, and so we wandered around trying to discover what there was to see. We went in and out of some stores without very much hassle or activity and proceeded to the small grocery store in the basement. We both needed some toiletry items and so we went in together.

The store has many front end employees to bag and ring up purchases, and they are all standing in the front. When Kevin and I came in they just stared at the two of us. I know that it is very unusual to have an Indian woman alone with a man her age, and so they may have been examining our interaction with each other. Personally, since I have found the stares and glares of men in India, especially on my walk home through the Raja Park neighborhood, to be kind of disturbing I felt a bit safer in Kevin’s company than I would have if I had been with one of the girls. Anyway, because of the surplus amount of employees in the store it seemed that there were 20 people who were watching the two of us, stalking our every move with their eyes. I don’t know whether we were the only actual customers in the shop or not, but it seemed that way. It was just a very odd experience to have.

The two of us made our purchases and left to meet the group at the café. We were a little early and the group was a little late, so it gave us time to discuss how weird the grocery store felt. It was especially odd since our new surroundings were so different.

In the café the only customers were our age. There were some young people who were in mixed company and all were wearing Western clothes (no saris or salwaars to be found). They were playing American music and had pop culture magazines to read. And the most obvious difference was no one was staring at the Americans. The entire time I have been in India I have always felt, and known, that my actions and interactions were being monitored by those around me. This was the first time I felt like the pressure was off, no one was judging me or examining me, I felt a bit freer than I have felt in days.

This to me was the ultimate in contradictory experiences. Going from the grocery store where I felt exceptionally scrutinized to the café where no one looked at us (except for the fleeting glance) reminded me of how different it is here in India. At home, no one stares when you come in the door, and if they do they are extremely rude. Here, to stare seems to be the norm, especially when you are a white woman. It can even mean taking your scooter an extra turn around the block to get a second look. The Coffee Day Café gave me a sense of home from the other side of the world, and I really think I needed it.


Leslie J. Jorgensen
International Development
POR #1

I have been in India for two weeks exactly. The maximum length many tourists ever visit a country, and I have learned many things about life here and what it means, for me. This is a summary of some of my realizations.

1. I am capable of stereotyping. On the eve of my birthday here in India I was excited when I came home and my host mom was preparing homemade henna for me to put on my hands. I looked forward to the experience and the beautiful body art that comes from henna work. As we sat down with the bowl of henna, she pulled out some designs and I excitedly looked over them, decided which figures I wanted to adorn my hands. I pointed out what I liked and what she liked, and then decided on a pattern. She said, “Good!” and left the room, leaving me, an inexperienced henna applier to the task of creating the design myself. When she discovered I hadn’t begun my hand art yet, she started me off. This is when I learned that I was guilty of a stereotype. I had thought that all women were experts at henna, that it was something that was taught to all girls while growing up and that all girls were good at it. But, I was wrong. Maybe the henna was too thick, maybe my hand was too small. At any rate, I ended up with a second rate amateur henna job, done by myself, which I know I had to endure for two weeks until it disappeared. Perhaps it is my own fault for stereotyping.

2. I am a pompous American. What’s even worse is that I don’t think that I am a pompous American. I like to believe, and have often told my parents, that I hate America and all it stands for. I go on and on about how I wish that I could live in Europe where things are simpler and better. But yet, now that I am here, I find myself drawn by the comforts of America, like McDonalds. I rarely eat McDonalds at home, and yet I feel like I can be comforted every time I walk under those golden arches in any country. It especially applies here, since India is by far one of the most different cultural experiences of my life. Here I am, believing I am above it all and yet I run to my creature comforts, homesickness quietly numbed by the fries and soda.

Another time I experience this is in coffee shops. I love coffee shops when I am home, frequently staying until they close and midnight or one in the morning. Finding a coffee shop here is like finding a piece of home, a refuge. European/American espresso concoctions can always make me feel better, and I have found in my 1 ½ weeks here that I have searched more for a good coffee shop than I have a really good Indian restaurant. I like to preach ideology, but yet I run from it the moment I see or feel any urge to cling to the culture I know so well.

3. I am not the only white person in India. Sometimes it is very hard to remember this, but often it is not hard to discover the truth in this matter. This weekend, when all the students went to Amber fort, it was weird for me to see other tourists, other white people. I had become so accustomed to being the only one (or ones) around that I must have made a subconscious decision that this type of phenomena didn’t exist here. But yet I’m here. There obviously is an attraction for me to be spending 9 months of my life exploring a different culture, so why am I surprised to find that other white people share my curiosity.

4. I believe that Americans seriously under use the scooter (i.e., moped, vespa, autobike of any kind). My short time here I have seen enormous amounts of people on these little automobiles: 3 adults and 3 children, 2 Adults and 2 boxes, 4 young teenagers. All of these people on one scooter and all while driving in the most insane traffic conditions I believe I have ever seen. In India, it seems that traffic lanes, sides of the road, and traffic signals are all optional. The most important rule of the road is whoever has the loudest horn wins, because the car horn is the only thing that ever seems to dominate the roads.