Mumbai

We'd been trying to find a good time to go to Mumbai all semester, so we finally decided to go over Diwali. We left last Thursday and then came back on the following Wednesday, which was fine because we didn't have classes at the beginning of the week. Originally it was me, Kaia, Marianna, Trudy, and Diana, but then Maclain decided to come to, although she left on Sunday night and Diana left Monday night.

The train from Hyderabad to Mumbai was 17hr, and, as always, it sucked. I just do not like Indian trains. They are not fun for me, so it's gonna be great when I'm taking the 30hr train from Varanasi to Hyderabad in a few weeks...

But we got to Mumbai around 7am, found a hotel, dumped our shit, and went to India's one and only Starbucks! It was perfection. It was just like any American Starbucks, but it was in India. My coffee was excellent and so was my mushroom and chicken pie.
So let's talk about our hotel. When we first arrived we went to several different hotels, but they were all out of our budget. I mean, we knew Mumbai was going to be expensive, especially since it was Diwali, but we're also all poor students (Well, except the Norwegians. Did you know the Norwegian government gives them a stipend every semester just for funsies? Stupid socialists...). We decided on Hotel Janata, mostly because we were all tired and it was the first one we found that we could afford. We slept 3 to a room, which was fine since Maclain and Diana were leaving early. As usual, you had the option to pay more for an AC room, but we just went with the rooms with fans. However, the manager put Marianna, Maclain, and I in an AC room, which had no ventilation. I kid you not, our room was a fucking sauna. When we tried to move rooms he wouldn't let us and tried to charge us extra. Eventually we just ended up paying the Rs300 extra/night for the AC. There were also cockroaches in the rooms and they were generally dirty with stained sheets. He was incredibly rude to Marianna and straight up told us that the only one of us he liked was Maclain. We considered switching hotels several times, but ultimately decided against it. Needless to say, both us and him was grateful when we finely left.

Without a doubt, one of the best things about Mumbai, which we spent a considerable amount of time doing, was eating. In itself, Mumbai is a very Western city. It really felt like we were in Europe, except we were surrounded by Indians. All of the buildings are old and beautiful (obvious signs of the British Raj) and the drivers even abided by the traffic lights! A nice thing was that rickshaws aren't allowed in the city center, so it's a lot quieter and all the cabs go by meters. 

Anyway, the food. The food was great, particularly the bakeries. We got fabulous coffee and pastries nearly everywhere. We found this one French-style bakery(kind of like Provence in Nashville) where we ate breakfast several times. It was absurdly expensive, but incredibly delicious. We only ever ordered the bread basket, to share, and then we each got a pastry or fruit cup. I swear, I ate the best chocolate croissant I've ever had in my entire life there, and I've had a lot of chocolate croissants. The bread baskets were more than enough because it came with jars of their freshly prepared jam(with REAL fruit) and a homemade nutella spread. It was heaven. 

I felt dumb once I realized this, but it took me two days to remember about the terrorist attacks that happened in Mumbai in 2008. It was partially targeted towards Mumbai's small Jewish community and quite a lot of people died. However, I think I didn't think about it because the city literally has no remnants of it. Everything looked completely normal, with no construction or anything. Maybe thats normal, I guess I just assumed it takes longer to recover from those types of things. I mean, didn't the 9/11 memorial only open up fairly recently? I guess that's just the American in me that doesn't realize how common terrorist attacks are in the rest of the world.

One of the places that was bombed was the Taj Mahal Palace Hotel. I'm not sure if this was the original Taj Palace Hotel, but back in the early 1900s the founding Mr. Tata (who are basically Indian royalty) was denied entrance in a fancy hotel because he was a "native." So he was all like, "Well fuck that! I'll build my own hotel!" So he did, only it soon became one of the most elegant and luxurious hotels in the world. Now there are several worldwide, but the one in Mumbai doesn't allow visitors. Well obviously, we were having none of that. 

One afternoon, Kaia and I were nicely showered and dressed, so we decided to pop into the Taj for a bit. We were nearly caught and kicked out several times, but we totally did it! And let me tell you, I bet every room in the Taj has AC and a cockroach has never stepped a leg inside. It is nice. Super, super nice. We didn't take pictures because that would've given us away, but we stole some toilet paper (which is Kleenex brand and really soft) and a pad of paper and pencil from beside a phone in the hallway. 

One of the most striking things about India, and Mumbai in particular, is how close in proximity the rich and poor live together. I've been in India for about 5months now, and I've never seen as many beggars as I did in Mumbai, particularly children. Mumbai is home to Dharavi Slum, Asia's largest slum, in population, not area, and its located between two major railways in the middle of the city. Strangely enough, the shape of the slum is actually quite similar to a heart, so the slum is also called "The Heart of Mumbai."

I know this is going to sound weird, but one of the best things we did was go on a slum tour. It was recommended to us by both Lonely Planet and another group of friends that went to Mumbai several weeks earlier. We went with a company called Reality Tours, and they put 80% of the money you pay for the tour back into the slum. They've built schools, a community center, and various art projects. A couple of the girls had reservations about taking a slum tour, for obvious reasons, but I actually didn't. I felt really good about going with Reality Tours, but part of me also knew that if we didn't take a slum tour I probably would've just taken it upon myself to walk through the slum, which definitely would not have been safe.

We met the tour guides and a larger group at a nearby train station and then took a train to where the slum is. We were then handed off to another tour guide who just took the six of us around, so it was a fairly intimate process. We crossed a bridge that lead over some railroad tracks and were emptied into a street that looked like it could've been anywhere in India. The Reality Tours has a strict "no photography" policy, but there was no obvious signs that we had just entered a slum. There were a lot of people around, but it was early on a Saturday morning in India, so even that wasn't too strange. 

We began the tour with the Industrial District of Dharavi. So everywhere in India there is almost always some poor person collecting plastics and aluminums from all of the various garbage heaps and cans. In Mumbai, different companies and manufacturers in the Industrial District buy the plastics and aluminums from the garbage collectors and in the slum they are cleaned and melted down to be recycled into new products. 

molding hot aluminum into something new
(the slum pictures were provided by Reality Tours via email)

All of the "new" products produced in the slum are usually small parts that are required in larger appliances and electronics and are all generally sold to Indian companies. All of the workers are quite used to tour groups (aka, a bunch of white people) wandering through their factories, so we got to watch them go along with their usual business. Most of the factories we saw dealt with plastics and metals, but one recycled used ink pen ink. 

The Industrial District is definitely the most dangerous and poorest part of the slum. The working conditions are horrible and ridiculously unhealthy. I mean, these men are melting plastic bottles and aluminum cans all day and inhaling all of those toxic fumes. According to our guide, these workers come from small farming villages up North when its no longer harvest season. The factory owners let them sleep in the factory at night (which also provides the factory with free security) so the workers are always on time. Depending on the factory owner, some of the workers are compensated for on-the-job injuries, but not always. Most of the factories provide protective wear, but in the Mumbai heat wearing a thick suit and gloves while working around an incinerator all day is not ideal. 

cleaning out old oil & paint cans before they're melted down

After the Industrial District we moved on to the Residential District of the slum. Nowadays its generally divided between Hindu and Muslim communities, but apparently it wasn't always like this. Prior to 1992 nobody really cared where you lived or what religion you were, but then there were some terrorist attacks and a lot of religious violence, so the communities divided up (Remember in Slumdog Millionaire when Jamaal's mom is killed? I think that was a depiction of the violence in the early 90s). I'm not quite sure how to accurately describe the houses there. The neighborhood was generally dirty and smelled, and all of the houses were just one room with a communal toilet and wash area nearby. However, every house has electricity and gets water in the mornings. The residents also have to pay rent, which is about Rs.40,000/month ($800) and because of it's central location, property in the slum is a hot commodity. 

One of the most enlightening things I learned was that nearly everyone living in the slum has a stable job. Of course the Muslim women can't work, but people who live in Dharavi are taxi drivers, waiters, janitors, ect. I had always kind of assumed that the beggars we encountered wandered around the streets during the day, but then went back to their house in the slum at night. While the people living in Dharavi are poor, they aren't living on the streets, which means that the beggars who live on the street literally have nothing except what they can carry on their person, and considering all the street children there are in Mumbai, realizing that is very unsettling. 

The Muslim area was very cramped, with tight winding passages and stacked, multi-story buildings. However, the Hindu area had more open-air and was noticeably cleaner (Our guide said this was because keeping a clean house was so important in Hinduism, but I think he was Hindu so I'm sure he's biased). 

Near the Muslim-Hindu community divide there was an open space, covered in garbage, where a bunch of kids were playing cricket and running around. Unless a child is potty trained I think Indian parents find it pointless to even put pants on that child, so there was a whole bunch of naked toddlers running around Mumbai. Consequently, I don't think I've ever seen so many little toddler penises and I'll be quite fine if I never see so many again. However, while we were in the area where the kids were playing we kind of integrated ourselves with the kids and played with them for a bit. I put myself on official "pants-patrol," so if any little kid that actually had pants was showing a half-moon or a bit of crack I'd walk over and help to pull their pants back up. 

We ended the tour by walking through the Dharavi potter community, which I was particularly interested in. Unfortunately we didn't hang around very long because our guide said that the residents weren't being very friendly that particular day, but it was still very interesting. 

a woman in the pottery 

Despite being in a slum, I really enjoyed myself on the tour. We learned a whole lot and got even more out of it. We asked our guide what the Dharavi residents thought of all the tour groups coming through, and he said that they actually didn't mind it too much. Apparently there was a lot of discord with the way Slumdog Millionaire portrayed Indian/Mumbai slums (the movie was actually shot on-location in Dharavi), so the locals are glad that people are coming to get a more accurate depiction of slum life. However, because of Slumdog the residents are really wary of being photographed, which is mainly why the "no photography"  policy is so strict. 

I know that sometimes I tend to be a little standoffish, particularly with Indian men. Believe it or not, I've actually been told that I can be quite intimidating, however, I don't think I ever stopped smiling on the tour. There was just so many children, and I always smile at kids, and I just really wanted the people we saw to know that I didn't view them negatively because of where they lived and how that's stereotyped, particularly by the West. Yes, I know I was on a slum tour, but I just hoped that me smiling at them was able to translate that somehow. 

me and the doomed kitty

On a brighter note, there were tons of cats in Mumbai. Like, everywhere and most of them liked being pet. One little kitten smartly staked out his home right outside of Starbucks, so every time we passed him he was being fed or pet by some tourist. Unfortunately he looked quite sick and on the last day we were there we went to Starbucks early in the morning and he had died some time the previous night. There were dogs in Mumbai too, but not as many as usual in India, and all the dogs we did see were always fat and sleeping. 

I've observed a pattern in cities in India. It seems to be a symbol of social status if you own a fat, yellow lab. Without fail, in every large Indian city I've visited, I've seen Indians walking obese yellow labs. I've still seen this even if I'm only in a big city long enough to catch a bus and leave. I had several of these sightings in Mumbai, which lead to the formation of this theory. 

Our last night in Mumabi was Diwali, which is the Hindu New Year. Also known as "the festival of lights," Diwali is usually celebrated with a bunch of fireworks and Christmas-esque lights strung up all over the place. At this point in our trip it was just Trudy, Marianna, Kaia, and I, and since most everything was closed for Diwali, we spent all day at Starbucks studying for our exams. 

We went to a New York/Mexican place for dinner and I had a delicious Oreo milkshake. Afterwards we hung out on Mumbai's beach promenade and waited for some fireworks. We stayed there for well over an hour, but nothing exciting was really happening. We'd see the occasional fireworks in the distance, but it was really just kind of lame. We decided to go to a nearby coffee shop, so we hung out there for another couple of hours. 

Once we decided to go home, we walked back out on to the main road and there were fireworks everywhere! This was a busy, four lane street, and people were lighting firework after firework on both sides. And these weren't just little firecrackers and bottle rockets, there were the big ass fireworks that are usually shot off in firework celebrations. Only they weren't a "safe" distance away from the crowd, they were in the crowd. So when one was blasted up and exploded we could all feel the ash floating back down and landing on us. It was awesome, but also kind of scary. 

By the time we left on Wednesday I think we were all fairly ready to leave. Big cities are expensive and we'd been away for nearly a week, so we were beginning to miss our Tagore family. The Norwegians wrote a song about Hyderabad that we always sing in the airport when we get back from a trip. To the tune of "Oh Christmas Tree" it goes:
"Oh Hyderabad

Oh Hyderabad

Its nice to be in Hyderabad

'Cause when you are in Hyderabad

You're so much closer to Tagore

Oh Hyderabad

Oh Hyderbad

Its nice to be in Hyderabad"

The water may be toxic, but the bay is real pretty

The Gateway of India

Victoria Station

Mumbai has this wall where you're allowed to make art and such on it.
This was one of my favorite
(The word around her wrist as handcuffs is "dowry") 

The Taj Mahal Palace and Gateway of India

Apparently Bowen has a cult following in Mumbai

Dear Blog, I Swear I Haven't Forgotten About You...

So I genuinely feel bad about being so neglectful with my blog lately. It's funny, because I actually think about my blog quite often and form posts in my mind, but then my procrastination takes over and I never get around to sitting down to write anything. I've actually started a few posts, but then I've never gotten around to finishing them. So here's an update:
At the beginning of October, myself, Diana, Trudy, Kaia, and Marianna went to Mysore. It was just a long weekend, but we had a really good time. It was a very relaxing and easy-going city. One day we hired a rickshaw driver to drive us around the city and give us a bit of a tour. He was really nice and very knowledgable, and charged us a really good rate. We ate breakfast at a cafe in the Green Hotel everyday. The hotel was quite fancy and hosted almost exclusively white, British people, but the cafe was run entirely by women who were from the lowest caste bracket, the Dalits. The food and coffee was delicious and the bread was freshly baked and heavenly.

My first sip of delicious beer

A few weeks later, in mid-October, I embarked on a trekking trip with Diana, Connor, and Terrence. We spent a day in Bangalore, and it kind of really sucked. Basically its just a big transport city, so you only really need to go there if you're on your way to somewhere else. The only redeeming part was when we went to India's only microbrewery that night and I had my first decent beer in months. The next day we took a bus to a little town called Madikeri, which is situated in the foothills of the Western Ghats. Although Madikeri wasn't all that great, the surrounding area was gorgeous and reminded me a lot of the Smokies. We were supposed to go on an overnight trek, however, the night before we were to leave Diana and I got quite sick. Like, "vomit was going out of my nose" sick. So the guys basically carried us to the bus station and we went to Mysore, which is between Madikeri and Bangalore, to recover.
When I was in Mysore for the second time I bought a beautiful sari, but I had to get it shipped to Hyderabad and that's been a bit of a hassle. I still don't have it and I would like to get it tailored (actually turned into a sari) before I leave for my Christmas travels. We went to Mumbai over Diwali, but I'm going to devote an entire post to that trip. Mostly I've just been trying to save money by hanging around Hyderabad when I'm not traveling.
This past week has been exam week, which has been stressful, as always, but I'm nearly done. I just have Urdu next Wednesday.
I read JK Rowling's new book, The Casual Vacancy, and I really enjoyed it. It was like meeting an old friend again after being a part for a while, although it was weird to read her writing about masturbation and other "adult situations." I mean, obviously Harry, Ron, and the other Gryffindor boys "relieved themselves," but I just assume let them have their privacy.
It's incredibly strange that I've only got a week left of this semester. I just don't know where the time went, but I guess that's always the case when you're enjoying yourself. Before we left for Mysore, all of the SIP students put on a Cultural Evening, which the whole campus was invited to. I guess we were kind of "required" to put on the show, but everything was pulled off entirely by us, the students. It turned out really nicely. The sitar, kuchipudi and Bollywood dance, and tabla classes all performed, a few of the Hindi students put on a skit, and several people sang and guitared it up. Connor made some video-shorts that were really funny and at the end we had a flash mob of Gangnam Style. After the show Tagore hosted a really nice dinner that everyone was invited to. Overall, a good time was had by all.
I just can't imagine Tagore without all of these people here. I mean, I'm sure next semester I'll grow to be just as fond of the new group, but it'll definitely be an adjustment.
I think that's about it. Obviously more has happened, but my shit-memory just can't recall any of it. I'll write about Mumbai soon, I pinky promise!
Here are some pictures:

Entrance to the Green Hotel & cafe

Outside of Mysore Palace

In the market in Mysore

On the way to a waterfall in Madikeri

The Western Ghats

I'm just really happy with this picture

The kuchipudi dancers at the Cultural Evening

Thomas performing with the sitar class.
His enthusiasm while playing only made the crush I have on him bigger. 

Home Away From Home

Tuesday October 2, 2012
Today is Gandhi's birthday and the very beginning of October, which means that I've been living in India for nearly three months now! And when I say "living in India" I very much mean that I'm "living" here. As in I have a residential permit with the Andra Pradesh government, which, personally, I think is petty damn cool.
However, when I say that I'm "living" in India, it could also be taken that I'm "living life to the fullest" and "living new experiences" and "finding the meaning of life." As of yet, not all of those things are particularly true. I'm still not sure what the meaning of life is... sorry. But I do feel like I'm becoming an Indian, or at least as Indian as a pale American ginger can.
I no longer have to psych myself up about leaving campus and going out into the Indian world. When I first got here, going out into India was an all day commitment. It was, and still can be, exhausting and completely over stimulating. We'd come back to Tagore dirty and irritable from being stared at all day. There would be some weekends where we just weren't up for india, so we'd stay around campus and if we went out it'd be to the more Western parts of the city.
Now I'm finding that I no longer need to be in the "right mood" to face India. I can just pop into the city or Lingampoli (the neighborhood close to campus) to run to the store or for the afternoon, and when I get back I don't feel like I'm totally drained and wiped out. Yeah, I'm still dirty and it's always annoying as fuck when people stare at me, but I've learned to deal with it. While it still bothers me, I've definitely learned to ignore it and go on my way.
In the first couple of days when we first got here one of the women at orientation told us that to properly navigate the Indian streets we needed a third "Indian eye," which Indians were born with but foreigners had to develop. While my Indian eye may not be fully developed, I think it's definitely there. I went to the grocery store in Lingampoli by myself the other day and I was effortlessly, consciencely aware of everything around me. I know how many people were walking behind me, I knew what type of vehicle was coming my way and how fast, but knowing that didn't seem to extol any extra energy. It was all just something I was aware of, as part of my environment.

Rickshaws in Lingampoli

One thing I still don't tolerate, and probably never will, is Indians taking pictures of me. I started a post about this at least a month ago but never got around to finishing it. We can be walking down the street, shopping for groceries, sitting on the train, and some Indian will pull out a phone/camera and blatantly take a picture of us. I cannot stand it. Sure, it might be different if we were living in a very small town where seeing a white person was a very new and unique thing, but we don't. We live in Hyderabad, the technical hub of all of India. Hyderabadians have seen white people. We are not a new thing.
So I just cannot understand their need to take pictures of me/us. What are they even going to do with the pictures? It's not like they know us. The only conversation they could have would be, "Hey, look at these white girls I saw riding the bus today!" And that would be it. There is literally nothing else they could say on the matter. They don't know us. They have no idea where we're from or why we're here. The only useful thing they could do with the pictures would be for he men to masturbate to them later, but that still doesn't make sense and doesn't make me feel any better about it.
When I catch people taking my picture I always say, very loudly, "HEY! No! No Picture. No," (sometimes in Hindi). Occasionally they have to audacity to pretend like they weren't actually taking our picture, even though I'm not blind and there are very few other things to do with a camera/phone when you hold it up to a subject, focus, and then press a button. At least some people ask us for pictures, usually with themselves or their family, but I still always decline. Again, what are they going to de with the picture? Hang it over their mantle? "Oh, and here are some white girls we got a picture with while they were walking down the street today!" No. That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard/imagined.
Yes, I'm completely and totally aware that this is a cultural thing and I should probably learn to live with it, but I've embraced plenty of other Indian culture things. The thing about it that bothers me the most is that these people know nothing about me and they are targeting me purely because I'm white. I'm sure this would be a very eye-opening experience if back home I was racist and targeted others because of their race, but unfortunately I'm not. I have never consciencely reacted to someone differently because of their race and it just disturbs me to my core that I am not treated in that same manner.
Despite this chronic photography problem, currently the city of Hyderabad is beautiful. It's the end of monsoon season, so it no longer rains every day but all the plant life is a deep green and all the flowers are in bloom. The temperature warmed up a bit, but it's no longer as humid so I'm relishing in the change. Since campus is basically a forest, walking the 30min to class is actually really enjoyable. Currently, I'm pretty sure both of my bike tires have holes in them, but I haven't even bothered to get them fixed. I genuinely enjoy leaving Tagore a bit earlier and taking the time to spend outside to walk across campus. I am definitely not missing fall.
However, I think I will be getting a hearty dose of winter. I don't know if I've posted about this, but I was trying to work at an orphanage, either in Jaipur or Delhi, for the month we have off in December, but as it turns out I would've had to pay them over $100 a week to work there, so thats not gonna happen. Instead I think I'm just gonna tag along with my friend Terrence to go visit the Northeastern part of India. It's the least touristy part of India, so at least when people take my picture here I'll know its because they legit don't frequently see white people. However, it is going to be quite cold, which is really very unfortunate.

Saturday October 6, 2012
Being productive here is hard. I have very few things that I actually need to get done, but getting them done is always a struggle. This includes finishing blog posts.
The rest of my week went by without disturbance.
Since I wrote the beginning of this post, a whole four days ago, I've been reconsidering what to do with my Xmas break. I just don't know what I want to do with myself. Terrence has been trying to get my feedback for things to do and I haven't been very responsive. Finally I made him give me a due date to have things figured out by, but I''m no closer to knowing what I want to do. The biggest thing that I want to do here is just get back to the Himalayas, but that seems like a silly thing to do in December  considering that I cannot stand cold weather.
On Thursday during yoga, our instructor asked us to think about something that made us happy. My first thought was Chrysanthemum, but thinking of my cat in response to a question like that seemed dumb, so I chose "nature." Being outside makes me happy. I'm almost always happy when I'm outside... unless its cold. Then I am very unhappy.

Chrysanthemum in a box waiting to be mailed to me

Since I was already thinking about what I could do over break, I began to think that I should do something where I can be outside a lot. Unfortunately, my favorite environment is mountains, which, as I've already mentioned, are going to be real fucking cold in December. But then I thought, (and this was all during yoga. Clearly I have yet to learn how to "clear my mind") "well if I'm already in India why don't I just do what makes me happy and something that can push my limits?" In conclusion, I'm now considering spending Christmas in the Himalayas. Where in the Himalayas? I don't know. Will I probably have different plan next week? More than likely.
Maybe I should just fuck India and head to Thailand or something for a month. I've always wanted to go to Cambodia. Maybe Bhutan too? I don't even know whats in Bhutan, but maybe I should spend a month there? Perhaps I look into visas.
It already seems like this semester is going by so fast and I can't believe that I've got to go through another one after this! It just seems like "going home" is so far away, but also just around the corner. I'm a little surprised at how much I miss Maryville. Not the people, I miss them a hell of a lot, like I knew I would, but I actually miss my school too. I mean, I even miss Pearsons (our dining hall). The food here is consistently unpleasant.
Thats all I can really think of for now. I still haven't shaved my legs, so the hair is coming in real nicely. Its curly and blonde/ginger, so its not immediately disgusting if I decide to show my legs. Needless to say, I'm pretty happy with the results.

BEHOLD
my leg

Going, Goan', Goa

So last Wednesday was the beginning of the Ganesh Chaturthi Festival, which is basically a ten day festival celebrating Ganesh's birth. There are statues of Ganesh all over the city, including in my room, and eventually they have to be thrown/submerged in a body of water. Because of this, we didn't have classes last Wednesday, and since most people don't have classes on Friday, it was basically a very long weekend.
A lot of people left for some sort of trip on Tuesday night, skipped classes Thursday, and came back Monday. At least twenty people decided to travel to Goa, which sounded like a lot of fun because it is basically just a giant beach and tons of people I know would be there. However, we (being myself and the girls I generally travel with) wanted to save money, so we decided not to leave until Thursday evening.
We hopped on a sleeper bus Thursday night, and I was pretty excited about it. Basically, it was the Night Bus. It had a/c, provided pillows and blankets, and was awesome. The only down side was that there wasn't a bathroom on board and we had to switch buses for some reason at 2am. It was also incredibly bumpy. Like, at some points my entire body was lifted off the bed,  but it was just part of the adventure.
We got to Goa around 8am on Friday morning and then grabbed a cab to take us to Anjuna, which was the beach area everyone else was already staying in. Once we got there we immediately ran into some other friends and they directed us to a couple of guesthouses. Kaia and I stayed in a little bamboo, beach hut that wasn't actually on the beach. It was really just a square room with an area partitioned off for the bathroom.
We were all changed and on the beach by 10am, and thats where we stayed for the rest of the day. The others we knew that had already been there were kind of wandering around the area with their rented motor bikes, but we saw them throughout the day. The beach was beautiful and hot. The sand, other than being absurdly annoying, was made up of very small pieces of shells,  so if you looked closely it was full of  beautiful colors. I collected a few really fascinating shells. While the beach was fabulous, it did have a major downfall: Indian women.
As soon as we laid out on our towels we were immediately surrounded by Indian women trying to sell us jewelry, trinkets, henna, ect. And they wouldn't leave. I mean, I felt like a total bitch but the only way to get them to go away was just to completely ignore them. You couldn't say "No thank you," or "Maybe later," because as soon as you gave them an inkling of attention they latched onto you like a spider monkey. Eventually they wandered away, but Alanna had it really bad. She just couldn't ignore them, so I'm actually not sure if she had any beach time without being surrounded. Even though the rest of us were trying to ignore them, they would just sit at the edge of our towels and stare at us. I was getting extremely hostile so I had to put in my headphones.

Alanna and her horde

I just had a problem with the whole system revolving around these women. Some of these sellers were children who should've been in school, and I have always had a huge problem with working/begging children. Some of the other people that we met up with said that the women that were following them openly admitted to be beaten if they didn't sell enough, and they said it as if it was just no big deal, because to them thats an acceptable norm. Another woman, visibly pregnant (or at least with a tumor/cloth bump) told Diana that her husband wouldn't give her money to go to the doctor. Even if these stories were true, which they probably were, the entire exchange is solely targeted towards Westerners. The groups of women don't congregate around Indian families on the beach. One time Diana even pointed to an Indian couple and said, "Why don't you go ask them?" and the woman said "No, they're Indian."
I refused to buy anything or even acknowledge these women, because I would not support their system. Yes, it might've given them money that day, but it's an unsustainable and abusive system.
Really this is just a continuation of my hatred of being targeted because I'm white.

Corpse of St. Thomas

For dinner we met up with a lot of our friends at a restaurant they had discovered down the beach called Curley's. The food was reasonably priced, really good, and came out really fast! They also served Hookah, so we ordered a Mango one. Everything was delicious.
On Saturday we got a late start, but got a cab to take us to Old Goa to look at some historical churches (oh joy...) and towns. Overall it was kind of boring, but we did go to the Church of [da] Bom Jesus. It was founded by some St. Thomas in the 1600s, but every now and then they bring out his body/corpse for display during special holidays. We didn't get to see it, but it's an odd practice. We had dinner at Curley's again and had a mint & kiwi hookah. A lot of people stayed out and partied, but my old woman came out and I went to bed pretty early and read.
We didn't leave Goa until Sunday afternoon, so we just walked on the beach and did some shopping in the morning. The bus ride back wasn't on a sleeper bus, so I hardly slept at all.
Now I'm back in Hyderabad and things are back to normal, well, Indian-normal.

The two puppies at a nearby restaurant I fell in love with

Church of [da] Bom Jesus

Largest Church in Asia

Goa at Sunset

Le Beach

Stretch of Anjuna Beach

Poppin' in on Pondi

This past weekend I once again left Hyderabad to continue my exploration of the Indian subcontinent. Myself, Diana, Alanna, Marianna, and Trudy went to Pondicherry to visit one of Marianna's friends, who is studying there. Kaia had friends coming in from Norway, so she met them in Goa and we were without her.

It looks like this, but not as nice

We left Tagore on Thursday afternoon to get on an overnight train, which I was not looking forward to. I traveled on several overnight trains the last time I was in India and I have not been eager to repeat that experience. Everything is just very crowded and hot, and of course, everyone stares at us. There aren't actually compartments, just two benches facing each other, and the back rest of the bench raises up into a bed. So eventually there are three beds on top of each other and facing each other with no privacy. I don't want to say that I prefer overnight buses to trains, because neither is all that great, but I just really don't like the overnight trains.
Anyway, we woke up on Friday in Chennai, got a quick breakfast, then took a bus to Pondicherry. According to Lonely Planet the bus ride was supposed to be around 2hr, but it actually took closer to 4hr. We had all the windows down to get a breeze, but that also let all the dust in. By the time we got to Pondicherry I literally had black streaks on my cheeks from all the dirt and grime.
We found a hostel, showered, and went to dinner. As we were asking the hostel "receptionist" how to get to the restaurant we met a German named Paul, who was traveling alone and was also staying there, so he joined us and tagged along for the rest of the weekend. It was weird because the five of us, usually six, are used to all traveling together without guys, but as the waiter at the restaurant was repeating our orders he directed everything at Paul, who we'd only known for about 15min.
After dinner we met up with Marianna's friend who led us to a liquor store, where we discovered that Pondicherry doesn't have an alcohol tax. We all got wine and beer and went down to the waterfront to drink. Eventually we split up, but Diana, Trudy, Paul, and I stayed on the beach/rocks for a while and then tried to make our way onto the pier we saw in the distance. Unfortunately, it began to torrentially rain and we could never find the pier, but not for lack of trying god damnit!!
Pondicherry used to be a French colony, so it's quite western with a lot of French influence. For breakfast the next morning we went to Baker St. Cafe (on Baker St. with a Sherlock Holmes logo) and had real coffee and delicious pastries. We met back up with Paul and wandered around for a while until we heard from Marianna's friend. We ended up going to her friend's school, which is basically a Norwegian school in India. The school was incredible and looked more like a 5star resort than a university. There was a pool, spa, restaurant and cafe, and it was all on the beach! We spent all afternoon in the water, jumping into the waves.

I jumped in too shortly after taking this

Once we got back to Pondicherry we met up with some friends from Tagore, who left on Friday rather than Thursday, and walked along the Promenade/beach front.

Pondicherry's Beach Promenade

After a short shower break, we all (the five of us, Paul, Paul's friend, Marianna's friend, and the other Tagore foursome) went to a recommended rooftop restaurant. They offered a selection of Western and Indian food, so I went out on a limb and ordered steak with a creamy mushroom sauce and mashed potatoes. It's borderline heretical to eat steak in India and I didn't know what to expect from the mashed potatoes, but I threw caution to the wind and ordered what potentially could've been a very expensive mistake. It wasn't. In fact, it was incredible. The steak was delectable and the mashed potatoes were wonderful and fluffy and buttery. We sat around for a long while after dinner and then wandered back to the seaside and hung out there for a while.
Sunday morning we all met up again for the last time and had breakfast. We didn't go to Baker St. Cafe, but the place was still cute and yummy, despite the terrible service. After that we all went our separate ways. The Tagore foursome were taking a train back to Hyderabad that night, so they left for Chennai before we did. Paul and his friend were taking a day trip somewhere, so they went on their way too.
We went back to the hostel, showered, packed, and then got back on the bus to Chennai.
Of course, Sunday was also when I needed to get my third (out of five) rabies shot, so once we got to Chennai and got a rickshaw to take us to the airport, we stopped at every pharmacy we passed on the way. However, since it was a Sunday they were all closed.
We were able to get a cheap flight back to Hyderabad, which is why we flew rather than train-ing it, and we got back to our city of residence around 9pm. Thankfully, the third pharmacy our taxi driver stopped at on the way back to campus was open, so I still don't have rabies!! I showered and crashed as soon as we were back. I was exhausted and was genuinely glad to be back in my own, uncomfortable, bed.

Pondicherry was a good time, but overall I didn't feel like it was all that spectacular of a city. The food was definitely the highlight of the trip for me. I'm just really tired of going to areas of India that were colonized for the majority of "modern" history. Because of the colonization, most of the places we've been, other than Hampi, have also been predominately Christian. I am just really tired of seeing churches, I mean, I get enough of that shit back in the South.
 Unfortunately, last night I was peer-pressured into going on a trip to Goa, which is where everyone in India, tourists and locals included, go for beaches, sun, drinking, and partying. GOD, my life is so hard....

A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

Last Saturday some friends and I went and visited the Qutb Shahi Tombs, which I learned about in my Lonely Planet before I even got here. We've been meaning to go and see them for a few weeks now, but we've gotten side tracked or been away from Hyderabad. No one here has even mentioned them to us as a suggestion to "go see" and we didn't know anyone who had been to them so far, so we really had no idea what to expect. In fact, I really just expected an old grave yard with some ancient "mausoleum" type structures. Not for the first time, we were totally unprepared for the reality that is India.
We biked to the main gate from Tagore so we could get a city bus to the area where the public park/tombs were. The bus fare was only Rs.11 and the bus ride was exactly how you would expect an Indian bus to be. As usual, we were the only white people and the bus was brimming at maximum capacity. At least there weren't any chickens on board. I really don't mind traversing the city via bus; it's really economical and I like becoming immersed in the real India. The only slight difficulty is knowing which stop to get off on. So far we've survived by depending on helpful Indian women who know a little English.
Saturday was no different, so a nice women told me which stop we needed to get off on, so I signaled to the rest of our "whitey brigade" and we trailed off the bus as it pulled away again.
We payed a small fee to enter the tomb area of the park, rounded a corner and were completely amazed.

The First Tomb

These tombs were all pre-Moghul, ranging from the 15th to 17th century, and all in various states of decay. However, their disrepair made them all that much incredible. Each tomb, like a smaller version of the Taj Mahal but in stone, still has an attendant, and the actual tombs inside are still decorated with shawls, incense, and flowers.
After the first tomb there were another ten, at least, behind a fenced in area. Some were smaller than others, but all were beautiful. The vegetation and life growing through the hundreds of year old stone made them even more beautiful than they might have been when they were first erected.
Not only were our surroundings amazing, but the day was great too; hot, blue skies, and not too humid. Unfortunately I chose to wear jeans that day... We spent all afternoon there, just wandering around and taking pictures.

The only woman's tomb in the group

View from the largest tomb

Successfully playing with my camera

My favorite tomb

My Roommate (Alana) and the Norwegians (Marianna, Kaia, and Trudy) eating corn from a vendor

We decided not to spend money and return to Tagore for dinner, so we got on a larger, shared tuk-tuk and headed back to campus. Of course, it was on our way biking back to Tagore that I finally found my puppy and to top off the exciting day the Norwegians, Diana, and I ended it in the Apollo Hospital ER (for my benefit only).
The night before all this, Friday, was nice too. Again, the Norwegians, Diana, and I went to the theatre with a couple of Indian guys from the Norwegian's International Relations class. The play was Baghdad Wedding, which I swear I've heard of before (I'm sure on NPR), and it was quite exceptional. It was nice to hang out with non-Tagore people in India, and I've actually run into the two guys a couple of times since then.
Sunday, after taking Oogy to the shelter, was nice and lazy and tomorrow, Thursday, we're taking a train to Pondicherry for the weekend. We're keeping our fingers crossed for no rain so we might actually get a chance to wear the bikinis we keep packing. But alas, al-hamdu lilah... (an Urdu phrase meaning "god gives us whatever he likes").