A week ago, Liz and I left our assignment in Dhamtari and moved to a rooftop in Kolkata. Unfortunately the problems in Dhamtari were unable to be resolved resulting in us leaving our assignment early. Needless to say, it was really rough to leave all of our friends and students at the school. I didn’t realize how attached I had become to the place until I saw my students waving goodbye with tears streaming down their face. To be honest, it sucked. There is no other word for it. I feel disappointed at how things turned out. Liz and I did our best to work things out, but in the end it just didn’t happen. The MCC India headquarters, Liz, and I came to a mutual decision that is would be better for us to leave Dhamtari and complete our term in Kolkata.
So. Here I am. After nearly six months in India, I’m starting over. A new city, new assignment, and a new (although temporary) living arrangement. It’s a bit daunting to think about completely adjusting and transitioning again. However, the CRs and staff here have been incredibly gracious and supportive of Liz and I. We still are not sure what exactly our work will be here (probably a combination of duties) but I’m excited to see what happens. Now that I have consistent access to high speed (!) internet, I will hopefully be a more faithful blogger. Until next time.

Mary

(This was written in mid-January)

A brief and non-comprehensive summary of my time in India so far:

10: The number of nights I have spent on Indian trains.
44: The number of hours it took for Liz and I to reach Kerala (a southern state of
India) by train. Needless to say it was a very long journey.
6: The number of states in India I have visited
2: The number of times a man tried to sell me some “magic” mushrooms that
were guaranteed to cure cancer. Right
158: The number of sudoku puzzles I have solved (the office gets really boring
sometimes).
2: The number of snakes I have nearly stepped on.
3: The number of times my butt has been grabbed by random men on the street.
Don’t get me started on how infuriating and violating this is.
7: The number of Hindu weddings I have attended.
26: The number of books I have finished since I arrived in August.
1: The number of times I have been sick from Indian food (I’m inordinately
proud of this low number).
2: The number of journals I have filled since August.
3: The number of times I have been nearly gored by runaway cows (this is not an
exaggeration). I think I must have been a butcher in a past life.
3: The number of deliveries I have witnessed (I am now 100% positive that I
NEVER want to give birth).
1: The number of funerals I have attended.

Of course there are so many other details of my life here that I can’t count: eating with my hands, drinking chai, explaining why I’m not betrothed yet (I am after all practically a spinster here at 22), nearly dying in the rickshaw (my mantra is “I’m too young to die” when the trucks zoom past me), and answering the question “Where are you going? Why?”
It’s easy to get frustrated and frazzled by India. Most days I like it. Other days I hate it, if I’m being honest. I am still mystified by the culture and hierarchy here and as a result feel like an outsider. I recognize that I will never by fully integrated into the community here because of my skin color, gender, and position as an American. I am weary of being put on a pedestal because I have fair skin and blue eyes and find it very tiring to always have such a high profile. Sometimes, it’s nearly stifling to feel like I’m constantly in a fishbowl. I crave anonymity and freedom of movement.
There are so many things that I like about India, but sometimes I have to give myself permission to sulk.
Mary

(I wrote this in the middle of January but didn't post it. I'm starting to see a pattern here...)
Three weeks ago Liz and I embarked on a very long journey to Kerala, a southern state of India. We had a two week vacation from teaching to celebrate Christmas and the New Year, so we decided to head south. Prior to the trip I was dreading the 42(!) hour train ride, but it actually wasn’t too bad. There were some students from the school traveling in the same car as us, so they kept us company and managed to stave the crazies away from Liz and I. Once we reached Kerala, I was entranced by the passing scenery. Kerala is absolutely gorgeous – full of banana trees, coconut groves, rice paddies, etc. Everything in Dhamtari is brown now, but Kerala is rich in greenery. It is the most developed state in India and was the first to reach universal literacy. Some of the towns are light years beyond Dhamtari, even though they are of a comparable size. There’s a larger emphasis on education and more business opportunities. Further, virtually every family in Kerala has a relation living abroad.
Liz and I visited our friend Leenus for Christmas in Kollam. Her mom spoiled us with delicious and super spicy south Indian food. The food in the south is much different than in Dhamtari – the rice is fatter, the vegetables are cooked in coconut oil, and fish is served at nearly every meal. Oh, and we ate beef! It’s illegal to eat beef in Dhamtari because it’s predominantly Hindu, but Christianity is the dominant religion in Kerala. It felt a little forbidden to eat it in India.
The other highlights of the trip included a hike in a tiger preserve where I got to pull our bamboo raft across a lake (another of those “only in India” experiences), a tour of tea plant covered hills, and a boat ride on the backwater canals. It was a phenomenal trip. However, it was really strange to see so many western tourists in India. Liz and I are the only foreigners in Dhamtari (and nearly all of Chhattisgarh), so it was a bit disconcerting at first to hear so much American English.
Now I’m back in Dhamtari. The situation at the school is still quite sticky. I really can’t go into details, but it’s been a very challenging past couple of months. However, my parents are flying into Delhi this weekend and I will meet them there. We are going to spend a week visiting Delhi and will see the Taj Mahal. I’m beyond excited to see them and show them India. Until next time.
Mary

(So I wrote this post in November but never posted it. Sorry for the delay.)

Last week Liz and I traveled by bus to Jogdeeshpur (a very small town in Chhattisgarh) to celebrate Thanksgiving with some American friends who work at a mission hospital. We left Friday morning, excited to spend time with Americans and filled with anticipation for the Thanksgiving feast. The first leg of our trip to Raipur was very uneventful. However our journey from Raipur to Jogdeeshpur was the opposite.
The bus itself looked like it was over thirty years old. I honestly don’t know how the vehicle managed to move. It was covered in rust, the upholstery on the seats was nearly nonexistent, and everything was covered in dust. So it was old. Really old. Nevertheless, Liz and I found seats and settled in for the four hour ride. Thirty pages of a James Joyce novel later, the bus started shaking and violently rattling. As I’ve mentioned before, the roads in rural India are not exactly in stellar condition. The windows of the bus were rattling so hard that the window next to Liz cracked. The fissure led to a small shower of glass shards. Swell. Further, the bumpy roads provide a roller coaster effect, which is problematic for those prone to motion sickness - the woman sitting in front of us was one of the unfortunate. She sat hunched forward and vomited all over the floor which splashed onto my feet. Then she stuck her head out the window and proceeded to vomit many more times. However, she did not realize that the vomit came back through our window and sprayed Liz’s face. Not only was Liz covered in shards of glass but now vomit as well.
With two hours to go until we reached Jugdeeshpur, I tried to occupy myself by talking to fellow passengers (I am able to make limited small talk in broken Hindi). Of course everyone was impressed that I could speak a little so they started asking lots of questions: where are you from, why are you here, etc. My favorite inquiry was “Ap celebrity hai?” (Are you a celebrity?). I hastily responded negatively and tried to stifle my laughter.
When we finally arrived in Jugdesshpur we thought that our eventful journey was over. However, one of those pesky shards of glass managed to get stuck in Liz’s foot. Fortunately we were visiting doctors so they took care of it.
Despite the long bus ride it was a wonderful weekend filled with pumpkin pie, attending a wedding celebration where I was slathered with turmeric, and eating my first green chili for Rs. 500. Good times.

Mary

Liz (my co-SALTer) and I recently returned from a two week trip to Kolkata and Hyderabad. In Kolkata, we were reunited with the MCC India staff. They are a fantastic group of people, so it was fun to see them all again. While in Kolkata, we binged on high speed internet (glorious!), ate at Pizza Hut (don’t judge, it was delicious), went to an English book store, and enjoyed air conditioning.

In Hyderabad, Liz and I watched the staff kids while the adults attended various sessions. Unfortunately I contracted pink eye from one of the kids, which was not pretty. Sore and pussy eyes aside, I was still able to enjoy the retreat.

We’ve been back in Dhamtari for a week and a half now, and it has been the most challenging and trying week yet. Most of the frustration centers around our teaching schedule (or lack thereof). Right now, Liz and teach five hours a week each(and that’s if my classes aren’t canceled, which regularly happens). That leaves A LOT of idle time during the school day. There are a myriad of issues I could gripe and complain about, but I will spare you. In short, I feel very underutilized. The students here could benefit from more English instruction, but the school won’t permit us to increase our teaching hours. It’s frustrating to feel bored and useless when there is plenty of work to be done. Liz and I are trying to brainstorm different places we could volunteer in Dhamtari to fill up our days.

I feel better now than I did a week ago. I really love teaching and the students here. They are wonderful. I just wish that I could help them more. In the meantime, I will continue to teach when I can, read (I just finished my 18th book since I arrived in August), do crossword puzzles (dorky, I know), learn Hindi (it’s a struggle), and hang out with the students.

Shanti,
Mary