The light of the art of spanging for western rupies is slowly but surely being illuminated for me. Natural selection has passed these techniques down from generation to generation. The youngsters have refined the process and created subtle variations on the central theme. Thus, people have crazy game in india. Sometimes I find these little mental games challenging and exciting, more often the whole process drives my head into a wall.
Those who know me know that my capacity for quick strategic thinking is nill. However we'll all admit that I've managed to scrape by so far on good looks and not-so technical writing skills. I don't think it has anything to do with the literacy rates, but stuff in writing is relatively meaningless here. Ask the government. Ask the public interest litigation advocates who have to use the courts to sue those in charge to actually enforce written law.
"Friend would you like to see a factory where people are making the handicrafts you see everyday in the market?" He's suggested several other sidetrips and you've axed them all, so why not give the kid a chance. A "no-pressure" high pressure showroom follows that is dressed as a factory. No, the factory is in a village 10km from the city. The manufacturing demonstration consisted of dude dipping two different shapped camel prints in different colors and plopping them on shred of fabric. Lots of talk about the natural dyes and the spinach in the green. Wow, these people certainly have a great capacity to care.
The rugmaking joint that follows features dusty looms, "works in progress" and Rameesh who demonstrates how indian carpets are actually made. We followed through on the rugmaking trip because our driver has come clean and told us that they give him a shirt everytime he steers clients through. This sudden honesty is no doubt due to his screw up where he received the 20 rupie note from the "printmaking factory" dude in plain view.
"Friend where are you from? Canada? Yeah I like Canadians. Here take this puppet as a gift. Usually I sell them for $250. But it is yours for free because I like you... My family made the puppets. Would you like to come over for dinner and see a puppet show? Uh, I see you have other plans... Do you have anything from Canada to exchange for my gift of friendship? Any canadian money, perhaps? Oh, maybe you can just buy me a beer. Or give me 100 rupies. As you wish..."
"Do you need a guide for the mosque... No don't worry I'm not very expensive. Okay - bye. Maybe next time... (5 minutes later) Do you know what the blue lines are for? That is where they carry in the deceased to wash in the fountain prior to the funeral ceremony. Oh don't worry I'll be your guide... I'll do it for free. Would you like to come to my house for dinner later. Great i'll meet you at the steps at 8:30..."
In retrospect these schemes are not too advanced. But they are sneak attacks compared to the constant barrage of mothers and daughters and sons and fathers asking you for stuff. Anything. In pushkar, beautiful gypsy women flock to single male travelers like harpies. They hold your hand and when you look away for an instant they apply a henna tattoo. Then demand payment for their artistry.
People try to tell you that they make out like bandits. Kids make 800 to 1000 rupies per day on the spange. Deepak the incense vendor says that the beggar guy without legs owns a fleet of rickshaws that he leases to his neighbors. His son is a doctor, but he's stays out on the street becasue it brings in serious cash. Oh, but he's not in town anymore because another disabled man came in and cornered his market. Maybe the new guy's stump was more gruesome and infected?
I'm not sure if I buy it, though. You hear those types of rumors all the time.
Since Bombay, I don't think that I've gone one day without seeing the goddamned Om Shanti sign emblazoned on some hapless sunburned tshirt. From what I read and hear the tourist scene is less visible in Amritsar. Seeing less white people always puts me in a better mood (although there is one cute red-headed semitic girl whose company I thoroughly enjoy). Some sort of self-loathing issue says my therapist. Either way, I hope that I won't be counting Germans in the Amritsar internet cafe. You can tell them straight off by their black socks.
4/29/03
4/26/03
Michele in Pushkar
Email - Michele 4/26/03
"Hi All,
Jamie and I are currently in Pushkar, a magical town on the edge of the Thor desert, a town of 500 temples and mountains surrounding a holy lake. It's also a town where pigs and cows share the streets with saddhus in orange and hippies in tank tops. And thankfully, there are no auto-rickshaws and few cars.
All of the guidebooks warn about overzealous priests who lure you down to the ghats and force you to perform puja and then they wrap a red string (the "Pushkar Passport") around your wrist and then demand an exhorbitant amount of money. On our first night, last night, we were accosted by a young man wearing the tell-tale "priestly" white string around his shoulder. He first offered Jamie some hash or marijuana and then when we refused, he gave us two flowers to take down to the water to wish good luck to our families on. We took the flowers and decided that it seemed like a nice gesture and so we went down to the water. As soon as we got down there, dude shows up with another older guy, holding tin plates with string and flower petals, ready to annoint us, practically forcing themselves on us. We tried to rationalize, to explain that the rituals had no meaning to us, that we were not Hindus, and that we did not want to feel pressured to perform some ritual. This had no effect. Finally, we decided to try to turn the tables on them and we blatantly offered them 5 rupees (1/10th of a dollar for a piece of string is not bad) for the "Pushkar Passport" as we figured that once we had this, we would have some respite from other priests. They refused in name but proceeded with the ritual and then became indignant when we offered 5 rupees. We told them that it was not negotiable and that we did not approve of their tactics.
What I am trying to understand though is what these priests really think. If they really think that they are benefiting us by performing these rituals, if it is purely motivated by financial gain, if they get anything religious out of it...... I am also trying to understand what Indians mean by "No Pressure" as they say that and then in the next breath, even before the next breath, there is tons of pressure to buy and visit and eat and go somewhere. It drives me crazy.
In fact, Jamie and I have a "Good Cop, Bad Cop" routine down pat. I am the bad cop and I get really pissed at people invading my space and trying to sell me stuff and so I tell them to go away, that they are being really pushy, that I am not interested, that their techniques SUCK, and Jamie then says "Hi, what's your name? I'm Jamie and this is Michele. We're sorry but we are not really interested. But give us your card and we'll come by later". And then I get all mad at Jamie for being so nice (Ed: Stay tuned dear friends, for this may be a recurring theme). We're going to try to reverse the roles but I don't think I can be a Good Cop. And I am not so sure that Jamie can be a Bad Cop, so we'll see.
But Pushkar is lovely. Today we visited temples and walked around the lake and sat in different places and stared at the ghats and the lake. And we climbed a big hill where a temple is perched to see the sunset and the brahmin came to perform sunset puja, carrying his one year old granddaughter on his shoulders. We witnessed the puja and it was beautiful and then we talked to the brahmin for a bit, about how he climbs the hill twice a day, about his granddaughter, and thankfully, he did not ask for any money or for anything from America. And right near our guesthouse is a small temple where women sit at night and sing Rajastani songs while the men sit outside and play cards and talk.
And our guest house rocks, its owned by a huge family, and the 15 year old son is the cook and we go into the kitchen with him and watch him cook (he showed us how to make eggless omelettes as no eggs are allowed in Pushkar since it is a holy place) and he and his friend have adopted Jamie and they hold his hand while they walk in the street. It's very sweet.
It's good to be in a small town. And I am looking forward to being here for a few more days.
Love, Michele"
"Hi All,
Jamie and I are currently in Pushkar, a magical town on the edge of the Thor desert, a town of 500 temples and mountains surrounding a holy lake. It's also a town where pigs and cows share the streets with saddhus in orange and hippies in tank tops. And thankfully, there are no auto-rickshaws and few cars.
All of the guidebooks warn about overzealous priests who lure you down to the ghats and force you to perform puja and then they wrap a red string (the "Pushkar Passport") around your wrist and then demand an exhorbitant amount of money. On our first night, last night, we were accosted by a young man wearing the tell-tale "priestly" white string around his shoulder. He first offered Jamie some hash or marijuana and then when we refused, he gave us two flowers to take down to the water to wish good luck to our families on. We took the flowers and decided that it seemed like a nice gesture and so we went down to the water. As soon as we got down there, dude shows up with another older guy, holding tin plates with string and flower petals, ready to annoint us, practically forcing themselves on us. We tried to rationalize, to explain that the rituals had no meaning to us, that we were not Hindus, and that we did not want to feel pressured to perform some ritual. This had no effect. Finally, we decided to try to turn the tables on them and we blatantly offered them 5 rupees (1/10th of a dollar for a piece of string is not bad) for the "Pushkar Passport" as we figured that once we had this, we would have some respite from other priests. They refused in name but proceeded with the ritual and then became indignant when we offered 5 rupees. We told them that it was not negotiable and that we did not approve of their tactics.
What I am trying to understand though is what these priests really think. If they really think that they are benefiting us by performing these rituals, if it is purely motivated by financial gain, if they get anything religious out of it...... I am also trying to understand what Indians mean by "No Pressure" as they say that and then in the next breath, even before the next breath, there is tons of pressure to buy and visit and eat and go somewhere. It drives me crazy.
In fact, Jamie and I have a "Good Cop, Bad Cop" routine down pat. I am the bad cop and I get really pissed at people invading my space and trying to sell me stuff and so I tell them to go away, that they are being really pushy, that I am not interested, that their techniques SUCK, and Jamie then says "Hi, what's your name? I'm Jamie and this is Michele. We're sorry but we are not really interested. But give us your card and we'll come by later". And then I get all mad at Jamie for being so nice (Ed: Stay tuned dear friends, for this may be a recurring theme). We're going to try to reverse the roles but I don't think I can be a Good Cop. And I am not so sure that Jamie can be a Bad Cop, so we'll see.
But Pushkar is lovely. Today we visited temples and walked around the lake and sat in different places and stared at the ghats and the lake. And we climbed a big hill where a temple is perched to see the sunset and the brahmin came to perform sunset puja, carrying his one year old granddaughter on his shoulders. We witnessed the puja and it was beautiful and then we talked to the brahmin for a bit, about how he climbs the hill twice a day, about his granddaughter, and thankfully, he did not ask for any money or for anything from America. And right near our guesthouse is a small temple where women sit at night and sing Rajastani songs while the men sit outside and play cards and talk.
And our guest house rocks, its owned by a huge family, and the 15 year old son is the cook and we go into the kitchen with him and watch him cook (he showed us how to make eggless omelettes as no eggs are allowed in Pushkar since it is a holy place) and he and his friend have adopted Jamie and they hold his hand while they walk in the street. It's very sweet.
It's good to be in a small town. And I am looking forward to being here for a few more days.
Love, Michele"
Michele in Jaipur
Email - Michele 4/23/03
"Hello Everyone,
We are now in Jaipur, the capital of Rajastan. Rajastan is a state of deserts and as such, the land is very rocky and tan. It almost reminds me of Joshua Tree in some places and in other places, it seems almost middle eastern. Allegedly to compensate for the barren surroundings, people here wear very bright clothing and so there are many women walking around in neon orange saris and bright green dupattas and all kinds of mirrored clothing. Not a bad way to cheer things up.
Today, after arriving (we almost missed the 6:10 AM train as we overslept and woke up 20 minutes before the train was scheduled to leave and frantically threw everything into our bags and found a bike rickshaw to take us to the station-- for once, the price was quickly negotated) we went to the Monkey Temple which is set in a beautiful valley about 9 KM out of the city. It is essentially a monkey party under monkey rule and there are monkeys everywhere. The first time we went in, with a bag of food, a clever monkey ripped open the bag and all the food fell out. The second time, we were more crafty and Jamie threw small amounts of food to distract them and we walked quickly to the heart of the temple; we made it in without sacrificing anything to plunder. It felt like a video game--- how to outmonkey the monkeys and make it to center of the temple unscathed. It was a really beautiful temple, very graceful and large, set into the rock, with a cold spring feeding two pools where local boys were swimming (apparentlyit's a godly bath). And I can't stress how excited I was to see the monkeys!
The following story illustrates what is so maddening about India at times-- since we were late to get to the train station this morning, we were frantically trying to find the right tracks (which is almost impossible it seems as it is just not posted, or if it is, I have no idea where). Anyways, we asked a man standing by one of the tracks where the train was. He looked at the ticket, looked at the scheduled departure time (6:10), looked at his watch and saw that it was then 6:11 and he said "Sorry, you missed it". And he did this without even looking around, he was so confident that procedure was being followed, that the train was on time, when OF COURSE it had not left yet.....People here can be so frustrating in that way, they seem to not question things at all-- maybe because there are so many ludicrous hoops that they need to jump through all the time that they can't really think critically, as if they did, they would realize that things don't make sense. But then again,maybe I am being an uber-rational western person that places too much of a value on rationality and logic. Sometimes I wonder if the way that I think might simply not apply here. OK, enough rambling.
Jaipur is one of the few places where having constricted peripheral vision has been a blessing. I am better able to ignore all the touts and tourist hounds, I can just walk with them next to me and not really know that they are there. Tunnel vision in India is an advantage at times as is being deaf-- I can't hear their promises and boasts and pleas. Jamie, on the other hand, is having a much more difficult time ignoring people, maybe this is why.
OK, I am out for now.
Love, Michele"
"Hello Everyone,
We are now in Jaipur, the capital of Rajastan. Rajastan is a state of deserts and as such, the land is very rocky and tan. It almost reminds me of Joshua Tree in some places and in other places, it seems almost middle eastern. Allegedly to compensate for the barren surroundings, people here wear very bright clothing and so there are many women walking around in neon orange saris and bright green dupattas and all kinds of mirrored clothing. Not a bad way to cheer things up.
Today, after arriving (we almost missed the 6:10 AM train as we overslept and woke up 20 minutes before the train was scheduled to leave and frantically threw everything into our bags and found a bike rickshaw to take us to the station-- for once, the price was quickly negotated) we went to the Monkey Temple which is set in a beautiful valley about 9 KM out of the city. It is essentially a monkey party under monkey rule and there are monkeys everywhere. The first time we went in, with a bag of food, a clever monkey ripped open the bag and all the food fell out. The second time, we were more crafty and Jamie threw small amounts of food to distract them and we walked quickly to the heart of the temple; we made it in without sacrificing anything to plunder. It felt like a video game--- how to outmonkey the monkeys and make it to center of the temple unscathed. It was a really beautiful temple, very graceful and large, set into the rock, with a cold spring feeding two pools where local boys were swimming (apparentlyit's a godly bath). And I can't stress how excited I was to see the monkeys!
The following story illustrates what is so maddening about India at times-- since we were late to get to the train station this morning, we were frantically trying to find the right tracks (which is almost impossible it seems as it is just not posted, or if it is, I have no idea where). Anyways, we asked a man standing by one of the tracks where the train was. He looked at the ticket, looked at the scheduled departure time (6:10), looked at his watch and saw that it was then 6:11 and he said "Sorry, you missed it". And he did this without even looking around, he was so confident that procedure was being followed, that the train was on time, when OF COURSE it had not left yet.....People here can be so frustrating in that way, they seem to not question things at all-- maybe because there are so many ludicrous hoops that they need to jump through all the time that they can't really think critically, as if they did, they would realize that things don't make sense. But then again,maybe I am being an uber-rational western person that places too much of a value on rationality and logic. Sometimes I wonder if the way that I think might simply not apply here. OK, enough rambling.
Jaipur is one of the few places where having constricted peripheral vision has been a blessing. I am better able to ignore all the touts and tourist hounds, I can just walk with them next to me and not really know that they are there. Tunnel vision in India is an advantage at times as is being deaf-- I can't hear their promises and boasts and pleas. Jamie, on the other hand, is having a much more difficult time ignoring people, maybe this is why.
OK, I am out for now.
Love, Michele"
4/20/03
Michele in Delhi #2
Dehli in Email - Michele 4/20/03
"Hello All,
Happy Easter and a happy belated Pesach. Jamie and I had a very religious day today--- we started out meeting 2 deaf folks in front of the New Delhi Free Church and then we went with them to the Delhi Deaf Friendship Club (AKA Delhi Deaf Sunday School/Social Group) for a special Easter meeting complete with a deaf mime performance about Jesus rising from the dead. After socializing for a bit (ok, 3 hours), we made our exit and went to the Ba'hai temple which was incredibly beautiful-- shaped like a lotus and surrounded by pools, it apparently looks like the Sidney Opera House-- and then after that, we went to this old Muslim quarter to visit a sufi shrine. And then, after that, we went to a rather evangelical Easter service where there was an interpreter signing away to music that sounded like something from the deep south, only in this case it was sung by Indian girls in salwar suits (they were good).
Interestingly enough, most of the deaf folks that we interacted with were Hindus who believe in Jesus. As such, they don't believe in Christan orthodoxy, but rather, in Jesus, "the man". It got a little out of hand at the evening service as people asked if they could pray for us and Jamie actually was coerced into a prayer with some woman.
How did we wind up with such a bunch, you ask? Well, Gabi was nice enough to forward me an email sent to my DRA account from the director of the Deaf Way Foundation here in Delhi who finally contacted me. We gave him a call and he invited us to come and visit the Foundation yesterday and it was COOL- its this great space where they have English and computer classes, social meetings, deaf mime troupe practices, you name it. And the director, Arun Rao, is apparently a former hippie. His daughter, Abigail (16, precocious and extremely beautiful) is deaf and so Arun got involved in deaf issues and he became one of the first interpreters in India and he started networking with deaf folks. He decided, with other deaf people, to set up the foundation and they are currently working on, among other things, a public interest litigation, on behalf of deaf folks. The PIL is extremely broad and will cover 1. allowing deaf folks to drive, 2. mandating that teachers of the deaf learn sign language, and 3. mandating an interpreter program in schools for deaf kids. I don't really know how PIL's work here but I am interested in finding out. We may meet with their lawyer tomorrow to learn more about what's up. Anyways, its really amazing to see what they are working on and I am starting, slowly, to learn some Indian Sign Language.
It was interesting today when we were in the Muslim quarter--- it is a very poor area and as such, we become pied pipers to a small stream of extremely persistent beggars. I can tell you that this is one of the most unpleasant experiences--- to have someone immediately at your side begging you for a rupee and to be absolutely unable to get them to go away. Indians are much more effective-- their shooing motions work and if they dont, they just beat the beggars or threaten to do this. We are impotent in our benign-ness. I am constantly surprised at my emotions, at how frustrated and angry I become, and how powerless I feel.
In this particular instance, we decided that we wanted to leave the area and so we went to find a rickshaw. However, we were unable to find a rickshaw that would put it on the meter (they all lie and say that the meter is not working which also makes me angry as it is such a blatant lie) and as a result, we wound up with a whole host of people surrounding us--- curious onlookers, prospective rickshaw drivers and rickshaws, and the steady stream of beggars that arrived apparently notified by some beggar radar. Finally, we found a rickshaw that was willing to do it on the meter and we took off, leaving the fracas behind. (But, since places rarely have addresses here, the driver had no clue where we were going and as such, we never made it to our destination-- the crafts museum-- but thats another story in and of itself).
And to top off such a long day, on the way back from the Easter service, we came across a wedding party- groom on a horse, drums, lighting men and video camera on the prowl, and we decided to join in. Half of the party was ecstatic that we were there and they promptly and very forcefuly thew us into the moving dance pit and they made us dance with them. I felt very uncomfortable, like a random white party crasher, but they were really putting a lot of pressure on us to dance, physical pressure it seemed, and finally we became very uncomfortable by the demands and the swarm of people and we bailed out.
We were inviited by some deaf folks to attend a 4 day outdoor course in the mountains and it is very tempting although we dont have the requisite supplies really. Apparently, its government sponsored and they invited "both handicapped and normal, including deaf and dumb" to attend. Jamie definitely doesn't want to go (he would be the oldest person there) but I am tempted although I am worried about leaving him alone at the mercy of rickshaw drivers (Ed Note: Not true! It seems that our author is projecting some sort of high fallutin' abandonment complex). I don't think either of us will go.
Well thats all for now. Thanks for reading.
Love, Michele"
"Hello All,
Happy Easter and a happy belated Pesach. Jamie and I had a very religious day today--- we started out meeting 2 deaf folks in front of the New Delhi Free Church and then we went with them to the Delhi Deaf Friendship Club (AKA Delhi Deaf Sunday School/Social Group) for a special Easter meeting complete with a deaf mime performance about Jesus rising from the dead. After socializing for a bit (ok, 3 hours), we made our exit and went to the Ba'hai temple which was incredibly beautiful-- shaped like a lotus and surrounded by pools, it apparently looks like the Sidney Opera House-- and then after that, we went to this old Muslim quarter to visit a sufi shrine. And then, after that, we went to a rather evangelical Easter service where there was an interpreter signing away to music that sounded like something from the deep south, only in this case it was sung by Indian girls in salwar suits (they were good).
Interestingly enough, most of the deaf folks that we interacted with were Hindus who believe in Jesus. As such, they don't believe in Christan orthodoxy, but rather, in Jesus, "the man". It got a little out of hand at the evening service as people asked if they could pray for us and Jamie actually was coerced into a prayer with some woman.
How did we wind up with such a bunch, you ask? Well, Gabi was nice enough to forward me an email sent to my DRA account from the director of the Deaf Way Foundation here in Delhi who finally contacted me. We gave him a call and he invited us to come and visit the Foundation yesterday and it was COOL- its this great space where they have English and computer classes, social meetings, deaf mime troupe practices, you name it. And the director, Arun Rao, is apparently a former hippie. His daughter, Abigail (16, precocious and extremely beautiful) is deaf and so Arun got involved in deaf issues and he became one of the first interpreters in India and he started networking with deaf folks. He decided, with other deaf people, to set up the foundation and they are currently working on, among other things, a public interest litigation, on behalf of deaf folks. The PIL is extremely broad and will cover 1. allowing deaf folks to drive, 2. mandating that teachers of the deaf learn sign language, and 3. mandating an interpreter program in schools for deaf kids. I don't really know how PIL's work here but I am interested in finding out. We may meet with their lawyer tomorrow to learn more about what's up. Anyways, its really amazing to see what they are working on and I am starting, slowly, to learn some Indian Sign Language.
It was interesting today when we were in the Muslim quarter--- it is a very poor area and as such, we become pied pipers to a small stream of extremely persistent beggars. I can tell you that this is one of the most unpleasant experiences--- to have someone immediately at your side begging you for a rupee and to be absolutely unable to get them to go away. Indians are much more effective-- their shooing motions work and if they dont, they just beat the beggars or threaten to do this. We are impotent in our benign-ness. I am constantly surprised at my emotions, at how frustrated and angry I become, and how powerless I feel.
In this particular instance, we decided that we wanted to leave the area and so we went to find a rickshaw. However, we were unable to find a rickshaw that would put it on the meter (they all lie and say that the meter is not working which also makes me angry as it is such a blatant lie) and as a result, we wound up with a whole host of people surrounding us--- curious onlookers, prospective rickshaw drivers and rickshaws, and the steady stream of beggars that arrived apparently notified by some beggar radar. Finally, we found a rickshaw that was willing to do it on the meter and we took off, leaving the fracas behind. (But, since places rarely have addresses here, the driver had no clue where we were going and as such, we never made it to our destination-- the crafts museum-- but thats another story in and of itself).
And to top off such a long day, on the way back from the Easter service, we came across a wedding party- groom on a horse, drums, lighting men and video camera on the prowl, and we decided to join in. Half of the party was ecstatic that we were there and they promptly and very forcefuly thew us into the moving dance pit and they made us dance with them. I felt very uncomfortable, like a random white party crasher, but they were really putting a lot of pressure on us to dance, physical pressure it seemed, and finally we became very uncomfortable by the demands and the swarm of people and we bailed out.
We were inviited by some deaf folks to attend a 4 day outdoor course in the mountains and it is very tempting although we dont have the requisite supplies really. Apparently, its government sponsored and they invited "both handicapped and normal, including deaf and dumb" to attend. Jamie definitely doesn't want to go (he would be the oldest person there) but I am tempted although I am worried about leaving him alone at the mercy of rickshaw drivers (Ed Note: Not true! It seems that our author is projecting some sort of high fallutin' abandonment complex). I don't think either of us will go.
Well thats all for now. Thanks for reading.
Love, Michele"
Michele in Delhi
Email in Delhi - Michele 4/18/03
"Hi All,
We just arrived in Delhi this morning at 6 AM after a 30 plus hour train ride. It was long but it did not seem that long as 1. it was AC, and 2. I slept almost the whole way there (probably because it was AC). Arriving was a drag. I had my huge-ass bag and a huge-ass headache and as soon as we got off the train we were hounded by people that wanted to take us places or bring us something and it was annoying, to say the least. I just wanted to be left alone, to find my own damn rickshaw, to take a breath or something. Finally we told everyone to go to hell and we bought a pre-paid ticket from the government run taxi stand and we were taken to our guest house (which is apparently deep in the Israeli quarter). as I type now, the keyboard has hebrew lettering on it and there are signs all around about the seders that we missed and Kabalah classes and other such things.
We actually left Hyderabad a day later than planned as we were approached by someone who worked for the film industry and he offered us 700 rupees a piece to be extras in a film being made. He also offered to pay the fee to change the train tickets and so we took him up on the offer. Dude was a scout for "foreign, North Indian, and other extras". Anyway, so Jamie went off with him to the train station to change the tickets and I went off with these two Dutch women for coffee. It was nice to talk to someone besides Jamie and he echoed the sentiment as apparently he met another American traveller in the train station.
After changing the tickets, we went to this amazing old fort where there was a Kali/Durga temple at the very top, overlooking the city, carved in the rock. It was apparently 850 years old and it was very peaceful and very beautiful. Durga and Kali are manifestations of Devi, the female goddess and Durga in particular is interesting as she is the demon slayer-- she's black and she wears a garland of skulls. We also went on a boatride to see this really odd Buddha in the middle of a lake. It is lit up and there is buddhist music playing and it's kind of a surreal experience. Anyways, on the boatride we met this amazing polish girl who is volunteering at a government school program with vollage kids. She is teaching them English and all of her lessons have a very cool social justice slant. We met her because she was with her kids and they were all staring at us. She invited us to come back to the school with her and the kids to eat dinner with them and to see the school and the program and so we did. We ate in a completely bare room on the floor and then we went to their classroom which is also their sleeping room where they sleep on the floor on a rug. All of her lessons were based on the UN Declaration of Human Rights and she tried to get the kids to extrapolate from the declaration to their own situations. Most of them were from a small village and they were very poor. As part of a program, they are taken to the city every once in a while for a "camp", She actually invited us to come back to the village as they were leaving to go the next day and we were seriously considering it but we could not as we were booked to be movie stars the next day. The teacher, Yogata, was AMAZING. She had only graduated from high school last year and she helped form an NGO in Poland that does disability trainings and just in general, she was bad-ass. Jamie and I were very inspiired, and almost mollified by her, since she is so young and she has already done so much.
Now onto the movie shoot (if you are still reading). we got picked up at 7:30 and we were driven to Film City, a bizarre, completely artificial, over landscapped area with essentially every kind of landscape imaginable, from roman fountains to scottish hills. The movie that we were working on was, or at least the scene, was filmed in an airport so the set was set up to look like an airport. We were told, at various times, to stand in different places and to talk to each other. The rest of the time (and it was all day) we just sat and read and ate. We were with a young woman from Kurdistan who is getting her MA here, a British man, and this amazing french man who married an Indian woman and who has been living in Hyderabad for 3 years. The experience was actually really boring although it was fun to watch the Indian extras and just to experience the chaotic nature of the set. The movie is apparently called "Fool Happy" and there is no singing and dancing (damn), and they're apparently very hungry for more foreign extras, so if anyone needs a job......
After the shooting, the french guy, Michel, took us to this amazing Muslim quarter where there was a sufi shrine and cemetary. We had our bags and everything but he insisted on charging right in. It was really beautiful in the cemetary as there was a full moon and there were people sitting everywhere and there was apparently going to be sufi music but we had to leave so we could not hear it. At one point, when we were in the main hall, I was alone for a while as Michel and Jamie had to go through the mens section and I was surrounded by a sea of kids and women all staring at me, forming a thick circle, trying to talk to me, and it was really awful as all of the women were covered and so I could not read their lips, so finally I just started signing and I think they got the idea that I was unable to hear.
Well, we are now in Delhi for a few days. I will report more soon as we have internet access at the guest house. I hope you are all well.
Love, Michele"
"Hi All,
We just arrived in Delhi this morning at 6 AM after a 30 plus hour train ride. It was long but it did not seem that long as 1. it was AC, and 2. I slept almost the whole way there (probably because it was AC). Arriving was a drag. I had my huge-ass bag and a huge-ass headache and as soon as we got off the train we were hounded by people that wanted to take us places or bring us something and it was annoying, to say the least. I just wanted to be left alone, to find my own damn rickshaw, to take a breath or something. Finally we told everyone to go to hell and we bought a pre-paid ticket from the government run taxi stand and we were taken to our guest house (which is apparently deep in the Israeli quarter). as I type now, the keyboard has hebrew lettering on it and there are signs all around about the seders that we missed and Kabalah classes and other such things.
We actually left Hyderabad a day later than planned as we were approached by someone who worked for the film industry and he offered us 700 rupees a piece to be extras in a film being made. He also offered to pay the fee to change the train tickets and so we took him up on the offer. Dude was a scout for "foreign, North Indian, and other extras". Anyway, so Jamie went off with him to the train station to change the tickets and I went off with these two Dutch women for coffee. It was nice to talk to someone besides Jamie and he echoed the sentiment as apparently he met another American traveller in the train station.
After changing the tickets, we went to this amazing old fort where there was a Kali/Durga temple at the very top, overlooking the city, carved in the rock. It was apparently 850 years old and it was very peaceful and very beautiful. Durga and Kali are manifestations of Devi, the female goddess and Durga in particular is interesting as she is the demon slayer-- she's black and she wears a garland of skulls. We also went on a boatride to see this really odd Buddha in the middle of a lake. It is lit up and there is buddhist music playing and it's kind of a surreal experience. Anyways, on the boatride we met this amazing polish girl who is volunteering at a government school program with vollage kids. She is teaching them English and all of her lessons have a very cool social justice slant. We met her because she was with her kids and they were all staring at us. She invited us to come back to the school with her and the kids to eat dinner with them and to see the school and the program and so we did. We ate in a completely bare room on the floor and then we went to their classroom which is also their sleeping room where they sleep on the floor on a rug. All of her lessons were based on the UN Declaration of Human Rights and she tried to get the kids to extrapolate from the declaration to their own situations. Most of them were from a small village and they were very poor. As part of a program, they are taken to the city every once in a while for a "camp", She actually invited us to come back to the village as they were leaving to go the next day and we were seriously considering it but we could not as we were booked to be movie stars the next day. The teacher, Yogata, was AMAZING. She had only graduated from high school last year and she helped form an NGO in Poland that does disability trainings and just in general, she was bad-ass. Jamie and I were very inspiired, and almost mollified by her, since she is so young and she has already done so much.
Now onto the movie shoot (if you are still reading). we got picked up at 7:30 and we were driven to Film City, a bizarre, completely artificial, over landscapped area with essentially every kind of landscape imaginable, from roman fountains to scottish hills. The movie that we were working on was, or at least the scene, was filmed in an airport so the set was set up to look like an airport. We were told, at various times, to stand in different places and to talk to each other. The rest of the time (and it was all day) we just sat and read and ate. We were with a young woman from Kurdistan who is getting her MA here, a British man, and this amazing french man who married an Indian woman and who has been living in Hyderabad for 3 years. The experience was actually really boring although it was fun to watch the Indian extras and just to experience the chaotic nature of the set. The movie is apparently called "Fool Happy" and there is no singing and dancing (damn), and they're apparently very hungry for more foreign extras, so if anyone needs a job......
After the shooting, the french guy, Michel, took us to this amazing Muslim quarter where there was a sufi shrine and cemetary. We had our bags and everything but he insisted on charging right in. It was really beautiful in the cemetary as there was a full moon and there were people sitting everywhere and there was apparently going to be sufi music but we had to leave so we could not hear it. At one point, when we were in the main hall, I was alone for a while as Michel and Jamie had to go through the mens section and I was surrounded by a sea of kids and women all staring at me, forming a thick circle, trying to talk to me, and it was really awful as all of the women were covered and so I could not read their lips, so finally I just started signing and I think they got the idea that I was unable to hear.
Well, we are now in Delhi for a few days. I will report more soon as we have internet access at the guest house. I hope you are all well.
Love, Michele"
4/18/03
Calls and Responses
Fran 4/15/03
"Hey guys - just saw Dmitri, who said you got a little heat about your "discussion" with your driver and the 20 rp. note. I don't think people realize what it is like to be there and how it really is a cultural game on some level. My opinion is if you didn't bargain for everything people would get insulted. The social discourse would be interrupted on some level. And the actual money does not translate well into our values.
Pride, favors, all that stuff comes into play. Sounds like you are in the thick of it and are doing just fine.
Best, Fran"
Thanks for covering our back Fran! J
"Hey guys - just saw Dmitri, who said you got a little heat about your "discussion" with your driver and the 20 rp. note. I don't think people realize what it is like to be there and how it really is a cultural game on some level. My opinion is if you didn't bargain for everything people would get insulted. The social discourse would be interrupted on some level. And the actual money does not translate well into our values.
Pride, favors, all that stuff comes into play. Sounds like you are in the thick of it and are doing just fine.
Best, Fran"
Thanks for covering our back Fran! J
Michele in Hyderabad
Hyderabad in email:
Michele 4/15/03
"Hi All,
We are now currently in Hyderabad, perhaps my favorite city so far. The city has a very dominant Muslim presence and the architecture is very Islamic in style and mosques dot the landscape. It reminds me of an Indianified version of Istanbul in a way. And it is interesting how many women are in full chador. And it is also interesting how, contrary to what you might expect, they are really friendly. We climbed this monument earlier to get a good view of the city and we were approached by two chador-ed women who wanted to know where we were from. Jamie asked them where I could buy a scarf and it was actually really funny as he motioned to what they were wearing--- I wonder if they thought we wanted to deck me out in Muslim gear.
Also when we were on the tower, people wanted to take photos with us. In the past few days we have had many photos taken with different Indian families from all over. We've had a screaming two yerar old dressed in a yellow dress foisted on us by her eager father who wanted us to hold her in the picture (she would not have it) and we've been ordered to stand with elderly women for photos by other members of their family. Our policy is that if folks want to take pictures with us, we want pictures with them as well, and as such, we now have a full collection of photos with random people that we will make up stories about. It's interesting to me that people want to take photos with us. I wonder what they will say about these photos when they are developed, how they will explain the two slightly grubby white people in the pictures.
Still on the subject of photos, before leaving for our trip, I purchased a new small light waterproof camera on the advice of my photographer friend Richard. He uses it to take street photos as you can just point and shoot and the people being photographed dont know that they are being photographed. I decided to try his strategy today while we were walking in this very crowded vegetable market/free-for-all but I did not succeed as the flash went off and started a small group of little boys holding some type of green vegetable. They then proceeded to clamour around us and they followed us throughout the market. They might have wanted some payment as apparently it is customary to pay people to take photos of them.
And on the subject of little boys, we were almost attacked by 3 little boys dressed like monkey-kings who wanted us to take photos with them. They were wearing make-up and they had on fake tails and jewelry-- very very cute. This was in Hampi, a small town in Karnataka that is very famous for his ruins and its a pilgrimage site for Indians from all over South India as there is an active and large Vishnu temple there. It was a really special town---- in some ways very similar in climate and nature to Joshua Tree except that amidst the boulders were sacred ruins and statues and boddhisatvas carved in rock. There is one area called Hampi Bazaar in which people have moved in--- its cool to see people inhabiting the ruins and building on to them. In Hampi bazaar, cows and goats and monkeys and little kids roamed freely. I was really excited to see the monkeys and they were scampering up and down the temple trying to steal food and in general, just hanging out.
There was going to be a festival in Hampi in two days--- apparently people will come from all over and everyone will sleep in the streets and there will be 1000s of pilgrims. There were some early arrivals and you could sense the anticipation in the air. The pujas seemed unusually animated and they involved music playing and people were out in the streets shredding coconuts and preparing food and things. And everyone was up and about really late at night, strolling in and out of the temple. The brahmins were probably getting lots of business and the saddhu freak show was starting to arrive.
Jamie and I really liked just sitting in the temple and watching people move in and out but it was difficult to do so as we could not sit for more than 5 minutes without someone coming to ask us questions. In fact, poor Jamie was fielding questions incessantly and he continues to do so. I get out of it, maybe because I am a woman or maybe because I am deaf, or maybe because I am better at being anti-social. But he's really good at explaining what our deal is and what his father does and how much he loves India and how he does not smoke and where we have visited so far.
It would have been nice to stay in Hampi longer as it really was incredibly beautiful with the monkeys and all of the ruins (many many temple complexes and boulders strewn with sculptures) but it was so HOT. i cant remember a hotter place that ive been. and we had to sleep under a mosquito net which made it even hotter. our second day there we went on a rickshaw tour to different temples and then we sat on the roof of our hostel and read books and sweated. I was drooling over the thought of the AC train ride to Hyderabad and it was heaven-- we slept the whole 12 hours here and in fact, we were still sleeping when the train arrived in.
Hyderabad is hot but not as hot. We spent the afternoon climbing the above mentioned tower and then we went to this bazaar area where they sell things for weddings-- lots of bangle shops and sari stores and places to buy other wedding things. It was really beautiful as it was set in the old muslim quarter and as I said before, the architecture was very interesting. We also found a great bookstore and so i now have a book to read--- Rohinton Mistry's "Family Matters". Jamie got a Doestroevsky collected works book, and we both agreed on a book on Indian slums and how and why they occur.
Our train ride to Hampi was interesting as we did what we were warned not to do-- we bought tickets at the last minute on the platform and as such, we wound up in a non AC car riding with a group of 6 men on 36 hour ride to Delhi from Goa. It was fun though as the car was very crowded and very social and people were up and moving about and alternatively sleeping with their feet in someone else's crotch and the tea and snack wallahs on the train were beligerent in their sales attempts. We had a good conversation with one of the men that we were sitting with about marriage and vegetarianism. But for the second leg of the trip[, we sucked it up and paid extra money to go to the AC class and it was worth it although the relative silence was jarring after the other noisy train situation.
Tomorrow we leave for Delhi and this is a 26 hour train ride. And I am hoping to not stay in Delhi but rather to continue to Haridwar or somewhere else.
I hope you all are well. I promise to write individual emails soon.
Love, Michele"
Michele 4/15/03
"Hi All,
We are now currently in Hyderabad, perhaps my favorite city so far. The city has a very dominant Muslim presence and the architecture is very Islamic in style and mosques dot the landscape. It reminds me of an Indianified version of Istanbul in a way. And it is interesting how many women are in full chador. And it is also interesting how, contrary to what you might expect, they are really friendly. We climbed this monument earlier to get a good view of the city and we were approached by two chador-ed women who wanted to know where we were from. Jamie asked them where I could buy a scarf and it was actually really funny as he motioned to what they were wearing--- I wonder if they thought we wanted to deck me out in Muslim gear.
Also when we were on the tower, people wanted to take photos with us. In the past few days we have had many photos taken with different Indian families from all over. We've had a screaming two yerar old dressed in a yellow dress foisted on us by her eager father who wanted us to hold her in the picture (she would not have it) and we've been ordered to stand with elderly women for photos by other members of their family. Our policy is that if folks want to take pictures with us, we want pictures with them as well, and as such, we now have a full collection of photos with random people that we will make up stories about. It's interesting to me that people want to take photos with us. I wonder what they will say about these photos when they are developed, how they will explain the two slightly grubby white people in the pictures.
Still on the subject of photos, before leaving for our trip, I purchased a new small light waterproof camera on the advice of my photographer friend Richard. He uses it to take street photos as you can just point and shoot and the people being photographed dont know that they are being photographed. I decided to try his strategy today while we were walking in this very crowded vegetable market/free-for-all but I did not succeed as the flash went off and started a small group of little boys holding some type of green vegetable. They then proceeded to clamour around us and they followed us throughout the market. They might have wanted some payment as apparently it is customary to pay people to take photos of them.
And on the subject of little boys, we were almost attacked by 3 little boys dressed like monkey-kings who wanted us to take photos with them. They were wearing make-up and they had on fake tails and jewelry-- very very cute. This was in Hampi, a small town in Karnataka that is very famous for his ruins and its a pilgrimage site for Indians from all over South India as there is an active and large Vishnu temple there. It was a really special town---- in some ways very similar in climate and nature to Joshua Tree except that amidst the boulders were sacred ruins and statues and boddhisatvas carved in rock. There is one area called Hampi Bazaar in which people have moved in--- its cool to see people inhabiting the ruins and building on to them. In Hampi bazaar, cows and goats and monkeys and little kids roamed freely. I was really excited to see the monkeys and they were scampering up and down the temple trying to steal food and in general, just hanging out.
There was going to be a festival in Hampi in two days--- apparently people will come from all over and everyone will sleep in the streets and there will be 1000s of pilgrims. There were some early arrivals and you could sense the anticipation in the air. The pujas seemed unusually animated and they involved music playing and people were out in the streets shredding coconuts and preparing food and things. And everyone was up and about really late at night, strolling in and out of the temple. The brahmins were probably getting lots of business and the saddhu freak show was starting to arrive.
Jamie and I really liked just sitting in the temple and watching people move in and out but it was difficult to do so as we could not sit for more than 5 minutes without someone coming to ask us questions. In fact, poor Jamie was fielding questions incessantly and he continues to do so. I get out of it, maybe because I am a woman or maybe because I am deaf, or maybe because I am better at being anti-social. But he's really good at explaining what our deal is and what his father does and how much he loves India and how he does not smoke and where we have visited so far.
It would have been nice to stay in Hampi longer as it really was incredibly beautiful with the monkeys and all of the ruins (many many temple complexes and boulders strewn with sculptures) but it was so HOT. i cant remember a hotter place that ive been. and we had to sleep under a mosquito net which made it even hotter. our second day there we went on a rickshaw tour to different temples and then we sat on the roof of our hostel and read books and sweated. I was drooling over the thought of the AC train ride to Hyderabad and it was heaven-- we slept the whole 12 hours here and in fact, we were still sleeping when the train arrived in.
Hyderabad is hot but not as hot. We spent the afternoon climbing the above mentioned tower and then we went to this bazaar area where they sell things for weddings-- lots of bangle shops and sari stores and places to buy other wedding things. It was really beautiful as it was set in the old muslim quarter and as I said before, the architecture was very interesting. We also found a great bookstore and so i now have a book to read--- Rohinton Mistry's "Family Matters". Jamie got a Doestroevsky collected works book, and we both agreed on a book on Indian slums and how and why they occur.
Our train ride to Hampi was interesting as we did what we were warned not to do-- we bought tickets at the last minute on the platform and as such, we wound up in a non AC car riding with a group of 6 men on 36 hour ride to Delhi from Goa. It was fun though as the car was very crowded and very social and people were up and moving about and alternatively sleeping with their feet in someone else's crotch and the tea and snack wallahs on the train were beligerent in their sales attempts. We had a good conversation with one of the men that we were sitting with about marriage and vegetarianism. But for the second leg of the trip[, we sucked it up and paid extra money to go to the AC class and it was worth it although the relative silence was jarring after the other noisy train situation.
Tomorrow we leave for Delhi and this is a 26 hour train ride. And I am hoping to not stay in Delhi but rather to continue to Haridwar or somewhere else.
I hope you all are well. I promise to write individual emails soon.
Love, Michele"
4/15/03
Blast you, freakin' Hippies!
I'm really starting to get into this spiritual ecstasy thing. Hampi Vijayanagar, is an ancient (founded in 1336 says the book) Hindi temple city on the banks of a sacred river that is surrounded by rocky slopes and boulderstrewn hills. Take the ruined city of Tikal in Guatemala populate it masses of pilgrims, then plop it down in the middle of moonscape-spooky southwestern Utah. There is no comparison really.
Too many ruined temples to count. Apparently the Muslims whupped some ass in 1565 and made a mess of the place. Oh well...
Stone paths still line the riverbank like midwestern-city pedestrian comeback schemes (Autoworld anyone?). The stones are smoothed by the tromping of millions of barefoot pilgrims. Most ruined complexes that I've visited have been sterile restorations of previous glory. Hampi has it's history and it still a very alive religious center. People are still living in structures, playing in the streets and herding goats through beat up temples.
When we left, the preparations for a Hindi festival honoring the mariage of Shiva and Laxmi were in full swing. Villagers from the surrounding communities and eurotravelers were just starting to pour into the city. Much to the favor of the local monkey population, truckloads of bananas and coconuts were being dumped at various stalls and with wandering vendors. While some early arriving pilgrims were starting that sacred tailgate party, others were laying claim to the good seats underneath the trees and shade structures. There was that nervous energy and excitement that comes from collective-anticipation.
It was contagious. Thousands of folks will sleep in the streets over the course of the five day festival. It is going to be quite a party - I'm sure that it is raging as I write this letter. It brought back memories of dead show parking lots and burning man festivals, with kind grilled cheese sandwiches and veggie burritos. Only thing missing was the balloons of nitrous oxide.
Fortunately the lacking of nitrous is a good thing. Hampi has recently been harassed as a newish destination on the gringo trail in southern india. Hippies and ravekids from Great Britian, Germany and Israel make it here for drug induced wandering and New Year's Eve parties. It could be that the local police are easier to bribe, but I think it is the just the beauty of this place. Some of the locals aren't too fond of the travelers use of drugs and lack of modest clothing. And it does make sense. As visitors to a sacred, sacred ceremonial center folks should respect local customs, shouldn't they?
We'll see what happens. Even if they are poorly groomed and rude, travellers bring in a lot of money to this tiny city. I'd fully support a ban on illegal substances like men wearing g-strings, and what the papers call the "public teasing of women." Blast you, freakin' Hippies!
This is the off season, though. The temperature was 34 degrees Celcius (you do the math). In May it should hit 40. We're downing bottled water like it is going out of style. We were lucky not to succomb to heatstroke. Would wearing a g-string have helped? Maybe just a kind cold drink... We'll drink a coke to Jerry or Oakenfold, your pick.
Too many ruined temples to count. Apparently the Muslims whupped some ass in 1565 and made a mess of the place. Oh well...
Stone paths still line the riverbank like midwestern-city pedestrian comeback schemes (Autoworld anyone?). The stones are smoothed by the tromping of millions of barefoot pilgrims. Most ruined complexes that I've visited have been sterile restorations of previous glory. Hampi has it's history and it still a very alive religious center. People are still living in structures, playing in the streets and herding goats through beat up temples.
When we left, the preparations for a Hindi festival honoring the mariage of Shiva and Laxmi were in full swing. Villagers from the surrounding communities and eurotravelers were just starting to pour into the city. Much to the favor of the local monkey population, truckloads of bananas and coconuts were being dumped at various stalls and with wandering vendors. While some early arriving pilgrims were starting that sacred tailgate party, others were laying claim to the good seats underneath the trees and shade structures. There was that nervous energy and excitement that comes from collective-anticipation.
It was contagious. Thousands of folks will sleep in the streets over the course of the five day festival. It is going to be quite a party - I'm sure that it is raging as I write this letter. It brought back memories of dead show parking lots and burning man festivals, with kind grilled cheese sandwiches and veggie burritos. Only thing missing was the balloons of nitrous oxide.
Fortunately the lacking of nitrous is a good thing. Hampi has recently been harassed as a newish destination on the gringo trail in southern india. Hippies and ravekids from Great Britian, Germany and Israel make it here for drug induced wandering and New Year's Eve parties. It could be that the local police are easier to bribe, but I think it is the just the beauty of this place. Some of the locals aren't too fond of the travelers use of drugs and lack of modest clothing. And it does make sense. As visitors to a sacred, sacred ceremonial center folks should respect local customs, shouldn't they?
We'll see what happens. Even if they are poorly groomed and rude, travellers bring in a lot of money to this tiny city. I'd fully support a ban on illegal substances like men wearing g-strings, and what the papers call the "public teasing of women." Blast you, freakin' Hippies!
This is the off season, though. The temperature was 34 degrees Celcius (you do the math). In May it should hit 40. We're downing bottled water like it is going out of style. We were lucky not to succomb to heatstroke. Would wearing a g-string have helped? Maybe just a kind cold drink... We'll drink a coke to Jerry or Oakenfold, your pick.
Letter from Dmitri
Although the letter to the editor policy supports a one-directional flow of information, the following letter deserves an exception:
Dmitri, (Jamie's Boss 4/08/03)
"Hi Michele,
I just had to respond to this story - it sounds like you guys are having a great time, and dealing with all the bizarreness that comes from traveling in India. But do you mind a bit of unsolicited feedback?
I have to give you this because the story about the rickshaw driver kind of bothered me. First, I can't believe you actually risked a guy over 5 rupees (which is 10 cents). I mean, what exactly was the guy going to do with the extra money after he extorted it from you? Something wildly inappropriate like feeding his children? I think the whole idea of traveling in a place like India is that you let people take advantage of you in those kind of ways, because you can afford it and they can really use the money. Maybe instead of worrying about getting back your 6 cents, you should think of it more as a game - like, which one of us can be treated like a rich american and be ripped off the most. I think you should view any opportunity to dump money into the Indian economy, particularly when you are talking about such tiny amounts, as an opportunity to do a mitzvah.
But also, I think that at this particular point in history, the last thing you want to do is be viewed as an ugly American. So the guy extorts 10 cents out of you - I think you should just smile and think, I'm doing my part to improve international relations. He knows you know what he is doing, and you let him do it. Everyone wins.
On other topics - we are all really enjoying the blog and your emails. We are all fine - missing you a lot, but surviving... And the US economy is crashing and burning. Be glad you aren't here. Hope all is well. -Dmitri"
Dmitri, (Jamie's Boss 4/08/03)
"Hi Michele,
I just had to respond to this story - it sounds like you guys are having a great time, and dealing with all the bizarreness that comes from traveling in India. But do you mind a bit of unsolicited feedback?
I have to give you this because the story about the rickshaw driver kind of bothered me. First, I can't believe you actually risked a guy over 5 rupees (which is 10 cents). I mean, what exactly was the guy going to do with the extra money after he extorted it from you? Something wildly inappropriate like feeding his children? I think the whole idea of traveling in a place like India is that you let people take advantage of you in those kind of ways, because you can afford it and they can really use the money. Maybe instead of worrying about getting back your 6 cents, you should think of it more as a game - like, which one of us can be treated like a rich american and be ripped off the most. I think you should view any opportunity to dump money into the Indian economy, particularly when you are talking about such tiny amounts, as an opportunity to do a mitzvah.
But also, I think that at this particular point in history, the last thing you want to do is be viewed as an ugly American. So the guy extorts 10 cents out of you - I think you should just smile and think, I'm doing my part to improve international relations. He knows you know what he is doing, and you let him do it. Everyone wins.
On other topics - we are all really enjoying the blog and your emails. We are all fine - missing you a lot, but surviving... And the US economy is crashing and burning. Be glad you aren't here. Hope all is well. -Dmitri"
Michele in Goa
India in email:
Michel, 4/11/03 Goa
"Hi All,
Jamie and I just spent the last 3 days in idyllic splendor in Goa. We were mostly at a remote beach town in the north named Arambol and it was really beautiful. Our guesthouse was set about 1/2 kilometer away from the water and we had to walk through a field of palm trees and cows to get to it. Or the other way was through a small town lined with hippy clothing stores and restaurants serving Israeli food and pasta and watered down Indian food.
We had interesting reactions to the place. We both thought that it was incredibly beautiful-- so lush and green and we rented a scooter for two days (Jamie is very very brave) and drove around to the different beach towns and visited different places-- but we were both also repulsed by the other tourists around us. Yo, don't they know that it's just not cool to walk around in technicolor Om shirts and short sarongs anymore? Or that one does not walk around with a g-string on on an Indian beach where Indian women swim with their saris on out of modesty? Yo, hello, the rave is dead, really. (And thank goodness).
One of the most memorable scenes-- we were eating breakfast this morning at this beach shack and we noticed a cow on the beach. On closer inspection, we also noticed a blond woman in a thong doing leg lifts while a blond hippy dude in a rainbow sarong played with a happy blond kid-- all were surrounded by a pack of beach dogs. Finally, it seemed like the cow had enough and so it decided to head back to safer less sandy pastures.
There were lots of german and english tourists. We unfortunately did not meet any Israelis although that was my goal for Goa. We did eat Israeli salad but it sucked. There were lots of signs in Hebrew and the bookstore had Hebrew books.
Goa really was a breath of fresh air after Bombay. I initially thought we were never going to get out-- we couldn't even figure out where and how to get on the train but we made it to our second class sleeper compartment and I promptly fell asleep, experiencing air conditioning for the first time in ages, and when I woke up the next morning and looked out the window-- SPACE. wow. No slums, no hoards of people, no smells of shit, just space. And the Arabian sea is incredible to swim in. Warm and clean and gentle, like a giant salty bathtub.
We are currently in Panjim, the capital of Goa, a city but a smaller one. In some ways it reminds me a little of Liabon in its architecture and the way that it feels. The cathedrals help a lot. We oddly passed a store before that was devoted to all things Portugese. It didn't really seem to fit in though. It's interesting how very Christian Goa is-- there are churches everywhere and for the most part, Christian Indian women do not wear saris or salwars but they were suits. There still are many Hindu temples and shrines of course.
I would now like to comment on two comments that I received from folks re: frisking richshaw drivers for 3 rupees. First of all, I would like to comment that it was done in jest and the rickshaw driver and I were smiley all the way across. Second of all, I understand that India is a place where foreigners should expect to get ripped off and because everything is SO SO SO cheap here, it makes it more acceptable, especially because people here need the money so much more than we do, and a little goes a long way. However, I get extremely pissed when a rate is agreed on and the other party then changes his/her mind at the last minute. This isn't fair. Maybe if he/she had tried to rip us off from the very beginning, that would make it ok. However, to so blatantly do so is not cool at all. Does that make sense? It's the principle of the issue.
OK, again, the blog is at www.whiteyonthemoon.com/india.html
We will leave tomorrow for either Hampi or Hydrabad. Not sure yet. I'm itching to head north though as it is getting HOT.
Love,
Michele"
Michel, 4/11/03 Goa
"Hi All,
Jamie and I just spent the last 3 days in idyllic splendor in Goa. We were mostly at a remote beach town in the north named Arambol and it was really beautiful. Our guesthouse was set about 1/2 kilometer away from the water and we had to walk through a field of palm trees and cows to get to it. Or the other way was through a small town lined with hippy clothing stores and restaurants serving Israeli food and pasta and watered down Indian food.
We had interesting reactions to the place. We both thought that it was incredibly beautiful-- so lush and green and we rented a scooter for two days (Jamie is very very brave) and drove around to the different beach towns and visited different places-- but we were both also repulsed by the other tourists around us. Yo, don't they know that it's just not cool to walk around in technicolor Om shirts and short sarongs anymore? Or that one does not walk around with a g-string on on an Indian beach where Indian women swim with their saris on out of modesty? Yo, hello, the rave is dead, really. (And thank goodness).
One of the most memorable scenes-- we were eating breakfast this morning at this beach shack and we noticed a cow on the beach. On closer inspection, we also noticed a blond woman in a thong doing leg lifts while a blond hippy dude in a rainbow sarong played with a happy blond kid-- all were surrounded by a pack of beach dogs. Finally, it seemed like the cow had enough and so it decided to head back to safer less sandy pastures.
There were lots of german and english tourists. We unfortunately did not meet any Israelis although that was my goal for Goa. We did eat Israeli salad but it sucked. There were lots of signs in Hebrew and the bookstore had Hebrew books.
Goa really was a breath of fresh air after Bombay. I initially thought we were never going to get out-- we couldn't even figure out where and how to get on the train but we made it to our second class sleeper compartment and I promptly fell asleep, experiencing air conditioning for the first time in ages, and when I woke up the next morning and looked out the window-- SPACE. wow. No slums, no hoards of people, no smells of shit, just space. And the Arabian sea is incredible to swim in. Warm and clean and gentle, like a giant salty bathtub.
We are currently in Panjim, the capital of Goa, a city but a smaller one. In some ways it reminds me a little of Liabon in its architecture and the way that it feels. The cathedrals help a lot. We oddly passed a store before that was devoted to all things Portugese. It didn't really seem to fit in though. It's interesting how very Christian Goa is-- there are churches everywhere and for the most part, Christian Indian women do not wear saris or salwars but they were suits. There still are many Hindu temples and shrines of course.
I would now like to comment on two comments that I received from folks re: frisking richshaw drivers for 3 rupees. First of all, I would like to comment that it was done in jest and the rickshaw driver and I were smiley all the way across. Second of all, I understand that India is a place where foreigners should expect to get ripped off and because everything is SO SO SO cheap here, it makes it more acceptable, especially because people here need the money so much more than we do, and a little goes a long way. However, I get extremely pissed when a rate is agreed on and the other party then changes his/her mind at the last minute. This isn't fair. Maybe if he/she had tried to rip us off from the very beginning, that would make it ok. However, to so blatantly do so is not cool at all. Does that make sense? It's the principle of the issue.
OK, again, the blog is at www.whiteyonthemoon.com/india.html
We will leave tomorrow for either Hampi or Hydrabad. Not sure yet. I'm itching to head north though as it is getting HOT.
Love,
Michele"
4/7/03
Michele in Mumbai #3
Mumbia in Email - Michele, 4/7/03
"Hi All,
Last night Jamie and I went to see a Bollywood movie. The movie theater was this huge megaplex, Bombay style, slightly shabby and run down but also glamorous. The theater was HUGE and had, I believe, over 1000 seats. We couldn't even get into the balcony seating section as it was sold out. So we sat in the stalls, in funky reclining chairs, and spent 3 hours watching the most hilariously cheesy movie with hundreds of other folks. I think that we laughed at different parts than they did though. And after the film, it was BEDLAM--- everyone rushing to auto rickshaws, a huge cow meeting place on the sidewalk (with over 6 cows just hanging out on the streeet), and in general, it was chaos. The movie was cool-- girls with plastic boobs changing outfits every 3 minutes, darkskinned Indians as the villians, bad bangra dancing, you get the idea.
Today we took the train to go to the Gandhi museum in Bombay. At one point, a huge mass of people ran onto the train and almost crushed us. I now understand the importance of Ladies cars. I have never been so physically close to a stanger before in my life. It's interesting to ride the trains, how everyone hangs off the side, hoiw it might be one of the few times when people here have some space (the space being the tracks and the air and the wind). There will be 5-6 people hanging out of one door together at times, paced like sardines.
We were also jumped on by spiritual beggars who anointed us with red paint, gave us strings, and a marigold, and then demanded money. We refused to give them money, and instead offered them the marigold back, but they refused that, so we reached a friendly impasse, walked away, and promptly removed the ink from our foreheads. We had a similar experience when we walked into a temple and the brahmin there gave us sugar wafers and flowers from the deity, and i felt really bad as i did not quite know what to do with them at all.
last night, after the movie, we took a richshaw to the waterfront in bandra to walk around and get some coffee (there are boogie coffee places here and its a dilemma sometimes, do we spend 45 rupees ((less than a dollar)) on a cup of coffee, or on two dinners?). Anyways, the rickshaw driver told us it was 15 rupees but we only had a 20. After we gave him 20, he changed his mind and said it was 20 and that he had no change, so we started yelling at him, he motioned like was going to go, and then i grabbed onto the richshaw and wouldnt let him go. Finally, he took 3 rupees out of his pocket and said that it was all he had left. I demanded to frish his pocket, he let me, and he was right, or at least he was not carrying the money in his shirt pocket, and i wasnt going to go into his pants. We were going to give him a 2 rupee tip anyways, so it was all good, I guess. And what is 2 rupees? it's really hard to know exactly.
The Gandhi museum was really nice-- there was a preserved room where Gandhi stayed when he was in Bombay and lots of photos. There was also a school in the museum for little slum children, where they are first taught about cleanliness, we were informed by the teachers. They looked clean to us. Now, we're going to walk around, get something to eat, and then say goodbye to the deaf posse and get ready to get on the train to Goa.
I hope that you are all well. Feel free to ask me any questions that you might have.
Love, Michele"
"Hi All,
Last night Jamie and I went to see a Bollywood movie. The movie theater was this huge megaplex, Bombay style, slightly shabby and run down but also glamorous. The theater was HUGE and had, I believe, over 1000 seats. We couldn't even get into the balcony seating section as it was sold out. So we sat in the stalls, in funky reclining chairs, and spent 3 hours watching the most hilariously cheesy movie with hundreds of other folks. I think that we laughed at different parts than they did though. And after the film, it was BEDLAM--- everyone rushing to auto rickshaws, a huge cow meeting place on the sidewalk (with over 6 cows just hanging out on the streeet), and in general, it was chaos. The movie was cool-- girls with plastic boobs changing outfits every 3 minutes, darkskinned Indians as the villians, bad bangra dancing, you get the idea.
Today we took the train to go to the Gandhi museum in Bombay. At one point, a huge mass of people ran onto the train and almost crushed us. I now understand the importance of Ladies cars. I have never been so physically close to a stanger before in my life. It's interesting to ride the trains, how everyone hangs off the side, hoiw it might be one of the few times when people here have some space (the space being the tracks and the air and the wind). There will be 5-6 people hanging out of one door together at times, paced like sardines.
We were also jumped on by spiritual beggars who anointed us with red paint, gave us strings, and a marigold, and then demanded money. We refused to give them money, and instead offered them the marigold back, but they refused that, so we reached a friendly impasse, walked away, and promptly removed the ink from our foreheads. We had a similar experience when we walked into a temple and the brahmin there gave us sugar wafers and flowers from the deity, and i felt really bad as i did not quite know what to do with them at all.
last night, after the movie, we took a richshaw to the waterfront in bandra to walk around and get some coffee (there are boogie coffee places here and its a dilemma sometimes, do we spend 45 rupees ((less than a dollar)) on a cup of coffee, or on two dinners?). Anyways, the rickshaw driver told us it was 15 rupees but we only had a 20. After we gave him 20, he changed his mind and said it was 20 and that he had no change, so we started yelling at him, he motioned like was going to go, and then i grabbed onto the richshaw and wouldnt let him go. Finally, he took 3 rupees out of his pocket and said that it was all he had left. I demanded to frish his pocket, he let me, and he was right, or at least he was not carrying the money in his shirt pocket, and i wasnt going to go into his pants. We were going to give him a 2 rupee tip anyways, so it was all good, I guess. And what is 2 rupees? it's really hard to know exactly.
The Gandhi museum was really nice-- there was a preserved room where Gandhi stayed when he was in Bombay and lots of photos. There was also a school in the museum for little slum children, where they are first taught about cleanliness, we were informed by the teachers. They looked clean to us. Now, we're going to walk around, get something to eat, and then say goodbye to the deaf posse and get ready to get on the train to Goa.
I hope that you are all well. Feel free to ask me any questions that you might have.
Love, Michele"
4/6/03
Michele in Mumbai #2
Mumbai in email, Michele 4/6/03
"Hi All,
It's been a while since I last wrote, mainly because we've been pretty busy interacting with all the deaf folks and orgs and also, because it has been extremely exhausting and difficult to navigate Bombay-- the idea of wandering around LOOKING for something is extremely hard to imagine. Wandering around is hard enough, so much so, that we can only do about 3 hours at a time and then we need to return to Bandra, to the school. We are very very lucky to be staying at the school as we have a dedicated group of wonderful deaf Indians who want to do things with us and its a great home base. Over the last 3 days, we have spent a lot of time at the school, interacting with students and meeting the director, and we also met these two awesome deaf-blind young men and we went to visit them at their school and met their director. I think that was the best experience for me so far, as they were so excited to have us there and they showed us all of their equipment and they've set up a mini-Braille press company. It's amazing as they have really really GOOD technology and they are able to get stuff done and the vocational training is really good. The director of the school is this 75 year old Parsi woman, Beroz Vacha, and she is all about total communication and admitting students whenever they show up and basically meeting people where they are at. It was really refreshing to meet her.
Getting to the school, just so you know, was an ordeal. For the most part there are no addresses here and so you are told generally where things are. So we took a cab there and the driver needed to stop 4 times and figure out where we were and Indians give TERRIBLE directions-- vague arm motions, and we went around in circles. And driving, just so you know too, is an adventure in and of itself. I can't even describe how very scary and chaotic it is. Anyways, the school was located in an area with some temples and it was a fairly nationalistic area-- we ate lunch in the Hindu Hotel and Zamir and his brother (two deaf-blind men) came to meet us there to have coffee with us. And then to head back, the 4 of us held hands, curving in the traffic. It was really cool. I can barely cross the street, in fact, Jamie needs to drag me across, so I can't even fathom how they do it. The funniest (and sweetest) thing ever is watching Jamie interact with deaf-blind folks-- he's never really done it before and they were all so excited to meet us, and at one point, he had 2 men trying to talk to him, one on each hand. Really funny. I'm getting better at tactile communication, and it really helps that they all know ASL/ Signed English.
Meeting the director at the National Institute for Hearing Handicapped was not that fun-- he made me really angry with his excuses for why shit isnt being done (India is so so so so poot, blah blah blah) and he was just a useless oralist bureaucrat in a way. But I am torn as I do understand that this is a place where basic needs for the vast majority of the people are not met, and that people here need to take shits in the street as they have no plumbing, and it's a place where slums are everywhere and roads are not paved, etc, but at the same time, I do see the need for a special directed effort towards advancing the rights of people with disabilities, but then again, how can I just say "people with disabilities" as opposed to all people?
Two nights ago, Jamie and I were walking through a slum area to get back to the campus. We walked by two women who were walking a small girl who apparently had CP. She was very slowly and awfully trodding along, thanks to them using sticks to pull her up. Jamie commented that he thought it was really fucked up, similar to people covering their mouths to get deaf kids to hear, and I said that I agreed, but that I also thought that in a way, this girl couldnt have a chair as the roads were nonexistent-- she NEEDED to walk in a way. There is no space here really to have a disability unless you want your disability to be a means of begging-- a different type of empowerment altogether. Making profit out of the spectacle.
Speaking of spectacles, we are very much one. We've seen only a handful of white folks since we've been here and it's been really amusing so far to sit somewhere or walk somewhere and feel everyone gaping at us. I've started making faces at the most obvious oglers. We were on the train with Gopal, a deaf man from the center, heading to Chowpatty Beach, and we were signing away, and EVERYONE was so blatantly ogling us. It was pretty intense. And it's really impossible to stand around somewhere without a small army of people coming to gather around us-- child beggars, average oglers, touts, etc. There are people who want to help, there are people who want to stare, and there are people that just have nowhere else to go.
Back to disability issues--- it's interesting to see how pro-sign the deaf community is here and how similar they are to American deaf folks, especially in the whole "deaf-pride" thing. Gallaudet is being held up as being mecca by so many of these folks. And their thinking is very simplistic and not very politically savvy and theyre not really thinking about total communication. And they blame everything on the government. I need to learn more about the government and what's up before I can judge though.
We have seen some interesting political things though-- political parties are very mass-based--- we saw a rally in motion-- folks riding around on a pick-up truck waving political banners. And the Indian Sign Languge sign for Pakistan is the same sign as the sign for virus. Interesting, huh?
We've been eating very well and for very cheaply. Lots of fried food in the house and lots of coke. I think we both live in fear of getting sick but thankfully it hasnt really happened yet. As for shopping, we went yesterday to a mega bazaar and much to everyone's amusement, I made Jamie model some Salwar Kameez fabrics for me. I am currently waiting for an outfit that I am having tailored---its bright orange and very cool. Jamie bought a few cotton shirts and some ties.
I can't really stress how exhausting it is to ride the trains and just to get anywhere here. I am hoping that the other cities and the small villages that we go to are not as overwhelming. It is cool to ride trains as everyone hangs out of them and there are moments of grim beauty in this. Even buying the train tickets to Goa (we leave tomorrow night on the overnight express) was overwhelming with everyone directing us to the tourist quota line and trying to tell us something else. Finally, we snuck onto the travel agents line and paid an extra 30 rupees, about 24 cents.
Tonight we are going to see a Bollywood film and we are also hoping to meet up with Deepa's parents at some point. We tried to call them but they were not home. We also hope to meet up with some of our deaf friends at some point today, we'll see.
OH! Very interesting-- we met this opportunistic deaf man (who basically ordered us to come visit him and the grilled us on access issues for 2 hours)-- he went to Gallaudet and currently he "exports" web sites that are section 508 compativle (or so he claims) and he wants to try to set up a video interpreting service. He has this wonderful girl that interprets for him although she has only been signing for 2 months. He is convinced that he can get her RID certified in 6 months and I was trying to explain to him how this was absolutely impossible and he didnt want to hear it. Anyways, Jamie was trying to talk to him about setting up meetings with other folks in technology here who do web design to discuss access issues and Alok, the man, wouldnt hear it as he wants to be the only one who does "accessible" web design. I use quotes as in fact, we do not even know that his sites, as flashy as they are, were accessible. The idea of ADA compliant websites being made in India and interpreting being done in India is very interesting.
Jamie and I have so far been getting along surprisingly well-- beautifully in fact. There have been no fights at all, only some tense moments when one of us needed a bit of space but we've been making lots of jokes and I feel like we've been very compatible in our travels. He's been so helpful in terms of dragging me across the street (literally) and interpreting and meeting folks--- I just hope I havent been a drag for him (literally, again :))
Ok, well, thanks for reading. I hope to hear from you all soon. Tomorrow, Goa, and then after that, Hampi, and then after that, probably north to Hardiwar. We'll see.
Love, Michele"
"Hi All,
It's been a while since I last wrote, mainly because we've been pretty busy interacting with all the deaf folks and orgs and also, because it has been extremely exhausting and difficult to navigate Bombay-- the idea of wandering around LOOKING for something is extremely hard to imagine. Wandering around is hard enough, so much so, that we can only do about 3 hours at a time and then we need to return to Bandra, to the school. We are very very lucky to be staying at the school as we have a dedicated group of wonderful deaf Indians who want to do things with us and its a great home base. Over the last 3 days, we have spent a lot of time at the school, interacting with students and meeting the director, and we also met these two awesome deaf-blind young men and we went to visit them at their school and met their director. I think that was the best experience for me so far, as they were so excited to have us there and they showed us all of their equipment and they've set up a mini-Braille press company. It's amazing as they have really really GOOD technology and they are able to get stuff done and the vocational training is really good. The director of the school is this 75 year old Parsi woman, Beroz Vacha, and she is all about total communication and admitting students whenever they show up and basically meeting people where they are at. It was really refreshing to meet her.
Getting to the school, just so you know, was an ordeal. For the most part there are no addresses here and so you are told generally where things are. So we took a cab there and the driver needed to stop 4 times and figure out where we were and Indians give TERRIBLE directions-- vague arm motions, and we went around in circles. And driving, just so you know too, is an adventure in and of itself. I can't even describe how very scary and chaotic it is. Anyways, the school was located in an area with some temples and it was a fairly nationalistic area-- we ate lunch in the Hindu Hotel and Zamir and his brother (two deaf-blind men) came to meet us there to have coffee with us. And then to head back, the 4 of us held hands, curving in the traffic. It was really cool. I can barely cross the street, in fact, Jamie needs to drag me across, so I can't even fathom how they do it. The funniest (and sweetest) thing ever is watching Jamie interact with deaf-blind folks-- he's never really done it before and they were all so excited to meet us, and at one point, he had 2 men trying to talk to him, one on each hand. Really funny. I'm getting better at tactile communication, and it really helps that they all know ASL/ Signed English.
Meeting the director at the National Institute for Hearing Handicapped was not that fun-- he made me really angry with his excuses for why shit isnt being done (India is so so so so poot, blah blah blah) and he was just a useless oralist bureaucrat in a way. But I am torn as I do understand that this is a place where basic needs for the vast majority of the people are not met, and that people here need to take shits in the street as they have no plumbing, and it's a place where slums are everywhere and roads are not paved, etc, but at the same time, I do see the need for a special directed effort towards advancing the rights of people with disabilities, but then again, how can I just say "people with disabilities" as opposed to all people?
Two nights ago, Jamie and I were walking through a slum area to get back to the campus. We walked by two women who were walking a small girl who apparently had CP. She was very slowly and awfully trodding along, thanks to them using sticks to pull her up. Jamie commented that he thought it was really fucked up, similar to people covering their mouths to get deaf kids to hear, and I said that I agreed, but that I also thought that in a way, this girl couldnt have a chair as the roads were nonexistent-- she NEEDED to walk in a way. There is no space here really to have a disability unless you want your disability to be a means of begging-- a different type of empowerment altogether. Making profit out of the spectacle.
Speaking of spectacles, we are very much one. We've seen only a handful of white folks since we've been here and it's been really amusing so far to sit somewhere or walk somewhere and feel everyone gaping at us. I've started making faces at the most obvious oglers. We were on the train with Gopal, a deaf man from the center, heading to Chowpatty Beach, and we were signing away, and EVERYONE was so blatantly ogling us. It was pretty intense. And it's really impossible to stand around somewhere without a small army of people coming to gather around us-- child beggars, average oglers, touts, etc. There are people who want to help, there are people who want to stare, and there are people that just have nowhere else to go.
Back to disability issues--- it's interesting to see how pro-sign the deaf community is here and how similar they are to American deaf folks, especially in the whole "deaf-pride" thing. Gallaudet is being held up as being mecca by so many of these folks. And their thinking is very simplistic and not very politically savvy and theyre not really thinking about total communication. And they blame everything on the government. I need to learn more about the government and what's up before I can judge though.
We have seen some interesting political things though-- political parties are very mass-based--- we saw a rally in motion-- folks riding around on a pick-up truck waving political banners. And the Indian Sign Languge sign for Pakistan is the same sign as the sign for virus. Interesting, huh?
We've been eating very well and for very cheaply. Lots of fried food in the house and lots of coke. I think we both live in fear of getting sick but thankfully it hasnt really happened yet. As for shopping, we went yesterday to a mega bazaar and much to everyone's amusement, I made Jamie model some Salwar Kameez fabrics for me. I am currently waiting for an outfit that I am having tailored---its bright orange and very cool. Jamie bought a few cotton shirts and some ties.
I can't really stress how exhausting it is to ride the trains and just to get anywhere here. I am hoping that the other cities and the small villages that we go to are not as overwhelming. It is cool to ride trains as everyone hangs out of them and there are moments of grim beauty in this. Even buying the train tickets to Goa (we leave tomorrow night on the overnight express) was overwhelming with everyone directing us to the tourist quota line and trying to tell us something else. Finally, we snuck onto the travel agents line and paid an extra 30 rupees, about 24 cents.
Tonight we are going to see a Bollywood film and we are also hoping to meet up with Deepa's parents at some point. We tried to call them but they were not home. We also hope to meet up with some of our deaf friends at some point today, we'll see.
OH! Very interesting-- we met this opportunistic deaf man (who basically ordered us to come visit him and the grilled us on access issues for 2 hours)-- he went to Gallaudet and currently he "exports" web sites that are section 508 compativle (or so he claims) and he wants to try to set up a video interpreting service. He has this wonderful girl that interprets for him although she has only been signing for 2 months. He is convinced that he can get her RID certified in 6 months and I was trying to explain to him how this was absolutely impossible and he didnt want to hear it. Anyways, Jamie was trying to talk to him about setting up meetings with other folks in technology here who do web design to discuss access issues and Alok, the man, wouldnt hear it as he wants to be the only one who does "accessible" web design. I use quotes as in fact, we do not even know that his sites, as flashy as they are, were accessible. The idea of ADA compliant websites being made in India and interpreting being done in India is very interesting.
Jamie and I have so far been getting along surprisingly well-- beautifully in fact. There have been no fights at all, only some tense moments when one of us needed a bit of space but we've been making lots of jokes and I feel like we've been very compatible in our travels. He's been so helpful in terms of dragging me across the street (literally) and interpreting and meeting folks--- I just hope I havent been a drag for him (literally, again :))
Ok, well, thanks for reading. I hope to hear from you all soon. Tomorrow, Goa, and then after that, Hampi, and then after that, probably north to Hardiwar. We'll see.
Love, Michele"
No Deadly Virus
Well I don't think that we have the deadly virus. Every little sniffle or stomach weirdness was previously freaking me out; however, I think the gestation period has passed. Now I know that disentery or malaria is all we have to worry about. Maybe rabies, but Michele had the rabies booster so I put her between me and any questionable mammal or foul.
People are like water here. They flow in an around everything. In the streets they look only ahead and honk at every intersection. I've been trying to dissect and analyze this unseemingly complex binary language of horn honking. It is how the drivers of cars, and cargo hauling lorries, autorickshaws, motorbikes, scooters, and bikes (they use bells) are talking to each other and letting each other know what the deal is. I am too fearful to look behind or to the sides when we get a ride. Look forward and everything will be okay. I really don't want to know how close that big ass truck was to taking us out. I don't want to notice the bangledeshi toddler chasing the ball between the cars. I just don't. I look forward and listen for the honks. To the left at 5:30. To the right at 11:00. Staccato dots, blaring dashes each ripe with navigational and directional information. I guess that it makes sense. No accidents to report.
So it makes sense that my most unsettling indian incident took place in a car, right? I'm from detroit after all.
After an interesting meeting with an indian entreprenuer and his assistant, well documented in the next blog entry, we accept a ride from him. We are interested in finding a suitable intersection to catch a taxi downtown for experiencing some Mumbai nightlife. He says that he knows a good one. As we get in the car it hits me... the dude is deaf, yo. His assistant was his sign language interpreter. He has an illegal license.
We've had countless discussions with Indian Sign Language students regarding if people who are deaf can drive in the united states. Under indian driving restrictions they can't operate automobiles, however, accommodations can always be made for those with enough political pull and rupies. After the breakthrough I made regarding the language of transportation, the idea of not allowing people who are unable to hear horns made some sense.
There's really nothing I can say, I'm an advocate for rights of all people with disabilities. We've just spent the afternoon talking about the discrimination of people who are deaf. So Hey! We're tearing off into the night traffic. "Look relaxed," I repeat to myself. Sit back, stare out the window and enjoy the ride. I listen to the horns, until the driver begins to sign to me. "look over there, the architecture is spanish." I think that is what he said. Michele is in the back seat and begins to ask him questions about the neighborhood. Ack! Don't ask him questions! keep his attention ahead and keep his hands on the wheel. Michele and I have had driving related communication issues from our first date. I scan his car and notice the driver side mirror is missing. Obviously a victim of a miscommunication. Actually, you don't need hallucinogens in Mumbai. You just need enough exhaust fumes and a daring driver.
Despite near misses and the occasional quick stop and apologetic wave, we make it. I've gained a new found respect for this guy's driving abilities and feel very happy to exit the vehicle. It is a beautiful night, we decide to walk across Chowpatty beach to Colaba. It is time to look out for the little kids.
People are like water here. They flow in an around everything. In the streets they look only ahead and honk at every intersection. I've been trying to dissect and analyze this unseemingly complex binary language of horn honking. It is how the drivers of cars, and cargo hauling lorries, autorickshaws, motorbikes, scooters, and bikes (they use bells) are talking to each other and letting each other know what the deal is. I am too fearful to look behind or to the sides when we get a ride. Look forward and everything will be okay. I really don't want to know how close that big ass truck was to taking us out. I don't want to notice the bangledeshi toddler chasing the ball between the cars. I just don't. I look forward and listen for the honks. To the left at 5:30. To the right at 11:00. Staccato dots, blaring dashes each ripe with navigational and directional information. I guess that it makes sense. No accidents to report.
So it makes sense that my most unsettling indian incident took place in a car, right? I'm from detroit after all.
After an interesting meeting with an indian entreprenuer and his assistant, well documented in the next blog entry, we accept a ride from him. We are interested in finding a suitable intersection to catch a taxi downtown for experiencing some Mumbai nightlife. He says that he knows a good one. As we get in the car it hits me... the dude is deaf, yo. His assistant was his sign language interpreter. He has an illegal license.
We've had countless discussions with Indian Sign Language students regarding if people who are deaf can drive in the united states. Under indian driving restrictions they can't operate automobiles, however, accommodations can always be made for those with enough political pull and rupies. After the breakthrough I made regarding the language of transportation, the idea of not allowing people who are unable to hear horns made some sense.
There's really nothing I can say, I'm an advocate for rights of all people with disabilities. We've just spent the afternoon talking about the discrimination of people who are deaf. So Hey! We're tearing off into the night traffic. "Look relaxed," I repeat to myself. Sit back, stare out the window and enjoy the ride. I listen to the horns, until the driver begins to sign to me. "look over there, the architecture is spanish." I think that is what he said. Michele is in the back seat and begins to ask him questions about the neighborhood. Ack! Don't ask him questions! keep his attention ahead and keep his hands on the wheel. Michele and I have had driving related communication issues from our first date. I scan his car and notice the driver side mirror is missing. Obviously a victim of a miscommunication. Actually, you don't need hallucinogens in Mumbai. You just need enough exhaust fumes and a daring driver.
Despite near misses and the occasional quick stop and apologetic wave, we make it. I've gained a new found respect for this guy's driving abilities and feel very happy to exit the vehicle. It is a beautiful night, we decide to walk across Chowpatty beach to Colaba. It is time to look out for the little kids.
4/3/03
Michele in Mumbai
Mumbai in Email - Michele, 4/3/03
" Greetings, We are now in India, at the National Institute for the Hearing Handicapped where we have spent the most bizarre day and night. After a cathay Pacific flight to India where nervous stewardesses walked around disinfecting the cabins with white gloves and masks with a spray approved by the WHO repeatedly, we arrived. Thankfully, a customer of my dad's had sent his chauffeur to pick us up so we got to bypass the madness that was Bombay airport-- every kind of vehicle and sleeping animal imaginable, taximen and autorickshaws ad infinitum. After leaving the airport, we descended on the chaos that is the Bombay street, again, every kind of vehicle. Women in glowing saris riding on the back of motorcycles, men in dhotis on bikes, goats in the street, I don't know.
We made it to Bandra, where the institute is, and after going through a gate that separated the outaside shantyown from the peacefulness of a government campus/garden, we had to argue a bit with the security guard as there was some i\misunderstanding about who we were. But it was cleared up, and we got to our flat, an old flat that is former teachers quarters with fans and a squat toilet, but very clean. So much space just for the two of us. We then walked around a bit outside but it was hard as the roads
were so very bumpy and the stray dogs kind of scared me.
This morning we got up, wandered around the campus, bumbled our way to the canteen, tried to order food, and then wandered some more til we met up with the sign language cell. It's all very exciting as they are trying to create an Indian Sign Language curriculim/imterpreting program and they have deaf students (mostly adults) from all over India. Jamie and I got to address them and they stood up for us and were overly respectful it seems.
It was a bit ludicrous talking about America and the ADA when everything here is just so behind. How can I not say that Americans with disabilities are lucky compared to this? And how can I talk about how to bring the revolution to India when I have only been here for less than a full day? Anyways, all these people want to meet us for some reason and there's really no conception of time, and even though there are supposed to be classes, everyone is sitting around with us. This deaf artist and Jamie are currently drawing right behind me. And it's so funny how Jamie has become the deaf access expert as well and how he's picking up some sign (both Indian and ASL).
And there are all these mothers sitting around with their kids outside in the hall, waiting for audiological testing, to determine whether or not their kids are deaf. They have all been staring at us and the moms have been exorting their kids to come and wave hello to us. Cute.
Ok, so this was intended to be a short note. I will write more later. I just wanted to let you know that I am alive and well, if not a bit
shell-shocked, and I believe the same goes for Jamie. Love, Michele"
" Greetings, We are now in India, at the National Institute for the Hearing Handicapped where we have spent the most bizarre day and night. After a cathay Pacific flight to India where nervous stewardesses walked around disinfecting the cabins with white gloves and masks with a spray approved by the WHO repeatedly, we arrived. Thankfully, a customer of my dad's had sent his chauffeur to pick us up so we got to bypass the madness that was Bombay airport-- every kind of vehicle and sleeping animal imaginable, taximen and autorickshaws ad infinitum. After leaving the airport, we descended on the chaos that is the Bombay street, again, every kind of vehicle. Women in glowing saris riding on the back of motorcycles, men in dhotis on bikes, goats in the street, I don't know.
We made it to Bandra, where the institute is, and after going through a gate that separated the outaside shantyown from the peacefulness of a government campus/garden, we had to argue a bit with the security guard as there was some i\misunderstanding about who we were. But it was cleared up, and we got to our flat, an old flat that is former teachers quarters with fans and a squat toilet, but very clean. So much space just for the two of us. We then walked around a bit outside but it was hard as the roads
were so very bumpy and the stray dogs kind of scared me.
This morning we got up, wandered around the campus, bumbled our way to the canteen, tried to order food, and then wandered some more til we met up with the sign language cell. It's all very exciting as they are trying to create an Indian Sign Language curriculim/imterpreting program and they have deaf students (mostly adults) from all over India. Jamie and I got to address them and they stood up for us and were overly respectful it seems.
It was a bit ludicrous talking about America and the ADA when everything here is just so behind. How can I not say that Americans with disabilities are lucky compared to this? And how can I talk about how to bring the revolution to India when I have only been here for less than a full day? Anyways, all these people want to meet us for some reason and there's really no conception of time, and even though there are supposed to be classes, everyone is sitting around with us. This deaf artist and Jamie are currently drawing right behind me. And it's so funny how Jamie has become the deaf access expert as well and how he's picking up some sign (both Indian and ASL).
And there are all these mothers sitting around with their kids outside in the hall, waiting for audiological testing, to determine whether or not their kids are deaf. They have all been staring at us and the moms have been exorting their kids to come and wave hello to us. Cute.
Ok, so this was intended to be a short note. I will write more later. I just wanted to let you know that I am alive and well, if not a bit
shell-shocked, and I believe the same goes for Jamie. Love, Michele"
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