bits and pieces

Important lesson learned... The difference between the number twenty five and the number fifty in Hindi is a tiny shift in sound from short I to short A.. That said, the very long and angry argument I had with the rickshaw driver who claimed I owed him fifty rupees when I claimed we had agreed on twenty five rupees, ended in utter embarrassment and apology (and overpaying) on my part. It's probably not the best thing that I've learned how to say "You're crazy!" (Aap pagal hai!) and "I may be foreign, but I live in Delhii!" (Mein gora hai, mein Dilli mei rethi hoon!) I was quite embarrassed when 3 young Delhi-ites pointed out that I had in fact offered to pay fifty (which is PachAs as opposed to PachIs which is twenty five). Just when you think you're getting a handle on the language...

So I'm still settling into the grooves of the city, and I'm really liking it. The heat is pretty terrible and getting worse, but I'm figuring out some tricks to stay cool. From going to the cinema to see Akshay Kumar (my new muscled Bollywood love) fight gangsters to the backdrop of delicious bubblegum pop music, to strutting around the Oberoi Hotel like I own the place, but actually only sitting in the air-conditioned lobby on the comfy couches with a magazine. I'm also sightseeing quite a bit! I don't start work for a few more days, so I'm taking in the sights while I can. So far I've seen the Qutb Minar with my roomate Peter, Lodi Gardens with my Hindi teacher, Bharat (we choose a different site for each visit, which is great!), and today I went to the Sulabh International Museum of Toilets. Yes, yes, that's right... It's the quirky listing in the guidebook that everyone laughs at, but very few people go to. But it's absolutely fascinating! Did any of you know that India was the first place in history to have toilets in each household? That's right, during the times of the Indus Valley Civilization, every household had it's own toilet! Who knew? And in the Netherlands they now have toilets that sit below the ground during the day, but come up at night to be used by late-night partyers! And in Victorian England, they used to disguise toilets as chairs, or flowery sculptures, or tables, because they wanted them to blend in with the room... I got a little lost on the technology part of the tour, but I'm pretty sure I walked on grass that was grown with manure from human waste, and I watched the process of converting urine into (non-drinkable, but usable) water. Awesome.

Oh and here is a fantastic link that Shruti found and it just embodies everything that is amazing and ironic about India. http://www.hipsterhunter.com/HH_INDIA.html

Are these photos of pretty flowers? Check again! They're actually urinals that were created by a Japanese artist! Japan also boasts electric toilets all over the country (in 90% of households and every public restroom), which has buttons for different water sprays, a dryer, and even a massage button for your backside! Apparently all the buttons are in japanese, so tourists sometimes run into some chaos when they hit the wrong button.

That's me hard at work studying Hindi in Lodi gardens. There are these amazingly beautiful tombs (mugdaras) all over the gardens, and you can smell the flowers from way outside.

That's my roomate Peter! He's extremely tall, but the Qutb Minar is even taller. In fact, it's the largest stone structure in India! Unfortunately all of my photos of it were taken vertically, and I still don't know how to put vertical photos up here, so you'll just get a photo of Peter looking at the Qutb Minar. It was built by various generations of Muslim rulers, the first one starting it in the 1200s after defeating the Hindu empire that was in power. There's a lot on the site besides the Qutb Minar itself, including a (now destroyed) mosque that was built with the remnants of a Hindu temple that was destroyed! You can apparently see carvings of Hindu gods in the remaining columns of the mosque, but we couldn't find any.

A lot of the strutures on site are still in tact, but here is a photo of some of the ruins. There's also an iron pole on site that has been around for centuries and STILL hasn't rusted! People think it's magical.

And that's me with my boyfriends Akshay Kumar and Saif Ali Khan! I've changed my look a bit in these past 5 1/2 months. Just kidding, that's Akshay Kumar, Kareena Kapoor, and Saif Ali Khan in a shot from their movie "Tashan" which might be the most beautiful, insane, and violent film I've ever seen. Kudos Bollywood, way to go.

Dance Dance Dance...

...except this time - it's a little more Bollywood and a little less Steve Miller.

NOTE: This post is from when I was in Udaipur in April. It's late, but better than forgotten on the internet wasteland! :END NOTE

My life recently has been filled with dancetacular times. Last weekend I attended my first Indian Wedding (the next one is in two days but it's a Muslim wedding) with my friend Gabe from couchsurfing. The bride is the friend of my teacher's sons here, so I got the invite to go. To make a long story shorter (refer to Sara's earlier post on weddings because it was fairly similar) the family had set up a lighted dance floor that had a rhythm of its own. My friends here already knew I liked to dance, which was either a mistake to tell them that or a blessing - I'm still not so sure. So after eating dinner, which I should have waited to eat until after dancing, I was pulled (some might say dragged) onto the stage and started to boogie down to the most recent bollywood hits. Everyone else who was on the dance platform at that point exited, save one other guy who was labled as my "dance partner". A whole crowd of people formed around. When I say crowd, I mean like 300 people. There were over 1500 people in attendance at this wedding. I did a little breakdance and tried to leave the stage and was pulled back on for one more song. It was strange to have all these people watching - but no reaction. Usually people will clap but rather this was all stares (It's India, I've gotten used to the staring so it's only in retrospect I find it strange, or just different than back home). When I stopped grooving and told them I was too tired to go on (10 minutes of hippie dancing can make you exhausted) I walked through the crowd to get some water. Numerous times people stopped me to congratulate me on my dancing; "You've got some Bollywood moves" and "Your hair flows like a Bollywood star (one point hippie hair)". One guy even filmed three minutes of the dancing on his cell phone and showed me the part where I did a headstand and wangled my legs in the air... and in return gave me an approving head waggle. Score one for hippie dancing!!



And last night I threw a party with my friends here in celebration for a number of things. First off, Sara informed me that yesterday (Saturday the 27th) was World Dance Day. How could I miss an opportunity like this!! Secondly this week I found out that I got the Fulbright Grant for next year - so I'll be headed home in June and then I take of again in August for China to study painting. I cooked up a storm for tweleve people - spinach tomato subjee and of course...mashed potatoes and we rented a sound system to blast the tunes. The only trouble is that the Indian palate for food is quite different that the American one. This is the second time I've cooked for a group of Indians and received not the greatest of faces during the tastings. I know my cooking isn't terrible and I thought it was quite tasty (Ok it lacked some salt - but its better to undersalt than oversalt!!). So we ate and danced from 9-1am last night. At one point I put on Fatboy Slim's "Praise You" and two others danced and everyone liked the groove. But then I put on James Brown "Get on the Good Foot" and by gosh can Indian males hippie dance. Well, I'm not sure if my friend Dharmendra was mocking me by flailing his hands in the air and shaking his hips - but everyone was smiling and jumping around. And that's what counts.

Dilli bahut garam hai

That's Hindi, for 'Delhi is very hot'. Yep, it's true, it's easily 110 degrees during the peak afternoon hours here, and living in an un-airconditioned flat that's prone to power cuts 3-4 times a day may make this an interesting month. I've lived in very hot weather without a/c before, but there's nothing like trying to sleep next to the loud whir of your water cooler fan, and watching the fan stop turning while the power is cut for the next few hours. I've been learning to master the art of cooling pranayam, which are breathing techniques from yoga- they actually work pretty well, last night I managed to give myself the chills and cool my body down considerably. (The two techniques are sucking in air between closed teeth and making your tongue into a tube and breathing in)

Aside from the heat (which I think will only prove to be character building), Delhi is fantastic. I live in Uday Park, which is a residential community in the south part of the city. In front of the neighborhood, there's a major road and a major mall called Ansal Plaza. Behind the neighborhood, there's tiny alleyways, empty ancient monuments, and little juice stands and vegetable carts. That said, if I am craving some swanky Pizza Hut or a trip to the Body Shop, I head over to Ansal Plaza, and if I'm craving fresh-squeezed pineapple juice, a thali, or lots of 'what's this white girl doing here?' stares, I head out the back side. I'm thinking it's going to be a great balance, something which is very difficult to come by around here!

My roomates are pretty great, though one of them is traveling for the next few weeks. I live with Noah and Peter- Noah is an American, former venture capitalist, who hated his job, recently quit, and is now traveling with his brother while he looks for another job in Delhi. Peter is German, and will be here for the next 3 months working with the company that builds the Delhi Metro. Both guys are really laid-back, and are making great attempts to hijack some air-conditioning, so we don't have to pay hundreds of dollars to have it turned on. Overall, I think the living situation will be great for the next 5 weeks.

I'll be starting my job with the prison-based NGO on Monday, and I started my hindi lessons last night. I'll also be doing some english language editing for this intercultural exchange organization's website. Should keeep me plenty busy, and be a nice balance of computer work and 'out there' work. I'm sure I'll have lots of stories from this city- I'm looking forward to exploring the older parts of town, starting up yoga classes at Aurobindo Ashram, and seeing lots of dance and concerts. There's a Time Out Delhi publication, which is pretty amazing, though nothing like good old Time Out New York. Okay, more later!

being american ain't as sexy as it used to be...

I've been writing a lot recently, I know. It's stems largely from the fact that I'm spending this time in Singapore relaxing, sleeping, and... applying for jobs back home. The plan is to leave India on 20th June and return Stateside on 28th June, so time (and looming unemployment) are catching up with me... I've also had the chance to think- too much- which is one of the things I do best. After my last two blog entries I got an e-mail from my mother filled with love and comfort, telling me to do what felt right for me, and not to worry so much. I guess my writing may be giving off hints of melancholy, but please don't be worried. I may be spending these past few weeks and next couple of months in a constant (and possibly irritating) state of reflection and self/social analysis, but I'm certainly happy. And I'm perfectly content taking breaks from over-thought every so often to read the latest issue of People magazine while sipping a peach iced tea from Starbucks. (Oh THANK YOU globalization and Singapore! People Magazine, and your high fructose corn oil glossy covers, I missed you so).

Recently, I've been made uncomfortably aware of America's slipping power in multiple arenas. From the obvious economic downfall to the war in Iraq to money to prestige, saying you're American doesn't get the same 'wow' factor anymore. Maybe I was spoiled in India, where my white skin was poked and prodded and loved and hated with great intensity. However, my experiences in the cities were quite different than the villages and towns (as Jake and I have both mentioned throughout this blog). In the cities especially, India's got this crazy strange mix of the poshest of the posh with the poorer of the poor. The jetsetting, educated, speaks 5 languages, works hard, parties hard, beautiful people crowd in the cities (particularly Delhi and Mumbai), are unlike any group of people I've ever met. They're more elegant than the upper east side, hipper than williamsburg, and faster than chelsea. While Americans are disdained for being imperialist consumptive masters in the villages, Americans are simply behind the times, old-money hicks, in the fancy enclaves of the city. I simplify, generalize, and exaggerate, of course, but it's a trend that I think will only continue to rise. Asia, particularly India and China are on the covers of all our news weeklies, and they know that. America is not looking so good on the hard power front, as our economy is taking hits, our military is failing, and our own domestic inadequacies are shining through. Still, I've never known America to be anything but a superpower. I was born in the 1980s, and America has been number one in all regards my whole life. It still is, in many respects, but it's at times very unnerving, and a bit surreal to be abroad and watching the headlines read 'the downfall of America'. It's particularly strange to be in the part of the world that is considered the next frontier.

At the same time... Our soft power still rules, but not in the same way as before. Yesterday I saw Singaporean highschoolers breakdancing and streetdancing to funk and hip hop in the underpasses of malls and MRT stations. I watched young and old teenagers sing acoustic songs (some mangled, some gorgeous) by the Cranberries and REM at the Singapore Art Cafe. I went to Jazz @ Southbridge and drank chardonnay and listened to jazz and blues standards performed by an all Singaporean band. American brands and labels are all over the place here, from Starbucks to DKNY. In India, it's a bit of a stranger mix, but Simon and Garfunkel are played in the malls, American hip hop and R&B blast from cyber cafes, and I-pods are all the rage in the cities. When I ask folks in the cities about music and movies and what they like to do, so much of it is from America. Of course India has a rising export culture, from bangles to Bollywood, but for the most "modern" folks in the cities, the intermix of Indian and American is where it's hippest (I even see new mobile phones that advertise "Hinglish predictive text" for SMSing). In Singapore it feels the same way. In many ways, American culture dominates, but with an Asian flair. That said, simply being American doesn't quite cut it around here. In a jazz club where signs for Broadway are scattered on the walls next to photos of yellow taxi cabs, and the singer evokes Ella Fitzgerald, being from New York gets a shrugged response of "oh" (and don't laugh Jake, and say it's because I'm actually from New Jersey...) Perhaps in this increasingly interconnected global community (I'm speaking in upper-class terms only, right now), nationalism is not as relevant. Or perhaps I'm just not used to watching my country and my culture take to the sidelines. Over here, partnerships are being developed that are consciously excluding America, from political to economic to arts. I can't help but feel like these are new trends, and it's crazy strange to be in the midst of it.

In the end, it's probably a good thing. But maybe this is why so many Americans continue not to travel. It's not easy finding out you're not at the center of the universe (figuratively speaking). In this increasingly competitive and interconnected world, a name (whether it's a surname or a country name) can get you pretty far, but the American pedestal is definitely falling faster than we'd probably like. It's very easy to be self-deprecating toward your own country, and to criticize America. I do it all the time, and there are some things America has done (many things actually) that I'm outright ashamed of. But buried under that criticism is a deep love and affection. Hearing other people knock your culture, applaud it's downfall, or even worse, simply stop caring, is not as easy. Don't get me wrong, I recognize the power that comes with being from America, particularly where I came from in America. But I'm starting to recognize the vulnerabilities of that power first-hand. It's unsettling, but it makes for some good stories, that's for sure.

The Science of Unlearning (or: How I Returned to Happy Trees)

Time is frustrating. What I mean to say is I move too fast. I held it as a virtue to move with both speed and gumption - get things done as quickly (and correctly) as possible. This not only pertains to art but in other facets of my life too. I have patience - but when action calls on the mobile phone and the hit "Dhoom Kana" from Om Shanti Om starts playing - its gettin' done.


This, however, is not the motto, maxim, creed, or dogma if you will of Indian Miniature painting. The hand must move slow, the eyes must move slow, the brain must move nowhere in particular except to focus on the line or color that is in the process of being applied. Numerous times in the past two and a half weeks I have been asked "Why are you not taking your time?" "This is art, it is precious, there is no hurry" Guruji tells me in slightly more pidgin English with a big smile that emerges from underneath a bushy, Indian anchorman-esque, mustache. This realization has forced me to analyze what I have been doing in the past and what I hold to be high art. I strove to be like Matisse's sketches - three lines and everything that is crucial is explained. The way Zorro would slash a "Z" into his foe's clothes, Matisse, with his dagger pen or brush, would zigzag a figure into a stiff piece of helpless paper. "Break everything down to its bare essentials!" my thoughts cry, "essence is key!"


Well, I'm not so sure anymore. Since I have started learning the style of miniature painting, I have continued my other projects, my hands and various abstract work, and my observation and precision has increased dramatically. The funny thing is I've been drawing horses, cows, elephants, camels, tigers, boars, and men and women. Most lessons consist of copying what my Guruji draws first. The hardest part is to not to compare this to what I learned back home. The thought "What the hell am I doing? I could just practice copying from "Learn to Draw" books and save myself some money." crept into my head for about a week straight. But I have to remember this is not back home. This is India. And this is part of a tradition - and I'm really trying to absorb it all.


Now that all this has been said, during the past couple days I have been learning to use color. This is the aspect of Miniature Painting which I find most incredible. Blending colors on such a minute scale and so efficiently with a process that makes the bold colors stand out for centuries is a feat in itself. But interestingly enough, I have been told here that I'm moving too slowly.
Bwah, jah' what!!
Blending paints together must be done while the paint is still wet and the brush has only a touch of dry color on it. Are you serious? So first it's slow down. Now it's speed up! Oh my goodness is this going to go back to the lesson that both Sara and I have constantly been learning over and over again in India - how to find and create a balance!? I am resigned to this thought, but I'm ok with that. It's more like when you watch a sitcom and the comic relief character knocks over the bowl of marbles...again and the audience goes; "awwwww shucks, saw that one coming". But the lesson is so endearing, that encountering it repeatedly on my travels is very welcome. Just as long as it doesn't involve crocodiles.

And in terms of a more day to day action - things are great. I cook two meals a day at my guesthouse and for breakfast its yoghurt and bananas! I met up with a couchsurfer from Montreal and we cooked dinner together. And tonight, since it is passover - he is jewish so we will attempt to make matzah ball soup out of whatever we can find, although finding brisket in these parts would be rather difficult. Tomorrow I will be attending an Indian wedding and next week a Muslim wedding. Apparently this week is very auspicious in terms of astrology. Woot!
On a final note, to show a slight blending of worlds - there was an article in the NYtimes today about Small Abstract art being really hot right now in NYC - worlds colliding!? Holla! http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/19/arts/design/19smal.html?_r=1&th&emc=th&oref=slogin

sex,(no)drugs,and rock and roll

okay that title isn't the most relevant since selling drugs can get you the death penalty here in this rule-laden country. But as for the sex and rock and roll, well that's another story.

Last night my couchsurfing host Genevieve and her friend Glenda and I went to a singles party at a fancy bar. Seriously, I felt like I was in Asian Murray Hill. Lots of well-dressed young people in their twenties and thirties milling about, drinking lychee martinis and stella, trying to meet people without actually trying, loud music, dark crowded room, lots of collared shirts. I made my way outside to the terrace where I met some amazingly cool women and some incredibly boring men. ("Hi, how are you? I just sold my company for sixty million dollars. Oh my name is Ashwin") I told everyone my name was Saia Phoenix, and I was possibly the only one without a job in IT, banking, or consulting (I guess for that matter I was the only one without a job, but we'll just brush that aside for now). I was feeling pretty out of place, but finally I met a group of guys, two British, one Chinese, that seemed to be making a good joke out of the whole party, and I ended up spending the rest of the night adventuring around with them. They called me the couch potato rich girl from the west village, and then they asked if I wanted to go to a "dodgier" bar, in their words. I was definitely up for leaving the fancy party for something a little grungier, so I agreed and off we went.

You could hear the rock music from down the street, which I took as a good sign. We made our way in as the band was starting "Dazed and Confused", one of my all time favorite Led Zeppelin songs, found a table, got some pitchers of beer, and started yelling and dancing. After a few minutes I excused myself to the bathroom, and walking through the bar, I noticed something I didn't realize when I first came in. Not only was I the only white woman there, but I was the only woman who wasn't working. There was literally a scantily clad Asian woman, or sometimes many women, (almost all Phillipino, I learned later) attached to each man in the bar. When I looked back at my table, two out of the three guys I was with had women in their laps. I rushed back to the table and asked my friend Nic what was going on. He laughed and told me that this was the G-rated version of what usually happens. It was really surreal to see- crowds of beautiful women surrounding really nerdy looking guys. It's what I imagine the sailor scenes during Vietnam were like, only instead of soldiars and sailors, it's now IT guys and bankers. Even though I'm a bit uncomfortable, Nic and I play a game. We both call a woman over and see who can get her. I win every time. At one point 5 women and I are dancing together in the middle of the floor. One of the women gives me her necklace amidst my protests, so I give her my bangles. We all smile and laugh a lot. It's really strange. Nic is thoroughly amused, and I'm just really confused, but might as well enjoy myself. I ask one of the women where she is from and she looks surprised and says "You're a good person". It's a lot to take in and after a while I need some air.

Nic and I head outside and sit on the sidewalk and talk American politics with some of the guys sitting outside. They want Obama to win, but don't think that he can. Nic asks me if I'm okay with all of this, and I just say that I don't know what to think. He goes off a little bit, and tells me that I can't judge what goes on in there. "These women are making a killing in there, Sara! They're making 30 bucks off a 40 buck cup of beer. They're sending all of that home to their families and their husbands. They're doing what they've got to do to get by! Who are you to judge? What are you doing? The world isn't just about backpacking and couchsurfing you know..." I know, I know that. And I know that what goes on in there is really no different than a strip joint or even Hooters back in the US. But something about it sits strangely with me. Maybe it's because I didn't expect to see this in Singapore. Or maybe since my mom talked about her conception of Laos and Vietnam from the sixties, and I felt a strange connection to that storied past. Maybe it's because the women were really smiley and laughing a lot. Maybe it's because it's a g-rated version of sex tourism that exists rampantly in SE Asia. I've always been someone who supported women who wanted to strip or dance or even prostitute themselves if it were their choice. Perhaps in this situation I'm judging that the women have less choices. Maybe that's a fair judgement. Nic said that the women aren't having sex for money, but they're using sex, that's for sure. But doesn't that happen all the time, everywhere? I guess I've just never been in a situation like this before. I've never been to a strip club back home. What was strangest I think is that the women here saw me as a client, putting their hands all over me, like I was one of the guys (until we started dancing and talking about jewelry, that is). I don't know why, but I don't think the women working back home would see me in the same way.

I also know that backpacking isn't everything.. In fact, I know that all too well, as my last few entries have shown the difficulties I've been having with the backpacking thing. Backpacking and traveling are pretty incredible, but I'm thinking more and more that it's a means to end, not an end unto itself. Backpacking just for backpacking feels kind of ridiculous. I'm learning way too much, and becoming so aware (to the point of driving me a bit nutty, but that's okay), that to not do anything with these experiences (even just writing about them helps) would seem just selfish. Awareness is good, but action is better. We'll see where this all goes... Thought I could get away from it all in Singapore, but looks like strange times abound everywhere.

just when I thought I'd never see skinny jeans again...

Preparing to (briefly) leave India:

5pm 4/14- I arrive in Delhi and head off to the cinema to catch Juno, that quirky film that I only heard about recently, but was happy to see came out in Delhi. Soundtrack- Fantastic indie music like the moldy peaches that left me crying throughout the movie and thinking about how few hipsters are in my life now.

8pm- Wander around the mall where the cinema is located, thinking how much Delhi is upstaging NJ in the battle of the malls. Find my way to to Crossword, the Indian version of Barnes and Noble, and get lots of back issues of Newsweek. Soundtrack- Survivor- Eye of the Tiger

8:30pm- Find my way into "Punk", India's version of Hot Topic, and all I can do is laugh and laugh and try on punk clothes and glitter. Soundtrack- that song that goes 'I've got ho's, in different area codes".. Not quite hot topic style, but oh well, it's India.

9pm- Go to this EuroCafe for dinner and eat a salad and french fries without ketchup because the ketchup here is NOT Heinz tomato ketchup, and it's really too sweet. Soundtrack- 50 Cent and club music which I find myself bopping around to.

Okay.. What's going on here? Sara, what are you doing going to malls and visibly enjoying 50 Cent? The truth is, I'm really homesick. It's strange- there are so many things that just make me miss home, miss NYC, miss America, miss my family and friends. But at the same time, I'm more intested in and in love with India than ever before. More than ever I want to learn about culture and politics and geography and more than ever I want to learn Hindi. I think what it's coming down to is that it's getting increasingly difficult for me to continue being in India without feeling more like a citizen. I want to speak the language and be able to talk about current affairs. In a way, I'm just tired of feeling like an outsider. Perhaps that's what I'm homesick for more than anything... Of course, I admit that this 'citizenship' I'd like is limited to being an urbanite. I love, just love, the intermix of west and east in the cities. Not all of it, of course (the malls are a fun sentimental novelty, but they're kind of insane). I love bollywood music and dancing and getting a drink at Barista and then getting a thali. I love the international city vibe, with combinations of nyc, mumbai, london, and delhi rolled into one. But if I'm going to be here, I want to be able to navigate more corridors of the city. That's why the Hindi and the general India knowledge (from politics to authors) is becoming increasingly more important. Either way, I'm psyched to move into my flat in Delhi in a week, and see how all of this actually pans out...

For the next 7 days I'm in Singapore. I'll write more about this place later, but it's beyond clean and efficient and I went to a sports pub last night for trivia night and drank mags of Hoegarden (mag as in Magnum as in HUGE MUGS). I'm couchsurfing with an American who is working here for 6 months- she is awesome, and I'm really excited to be staying with her. More on Singapore later, but there are tons of skinny jeans here and enough hipsters to give me my fill before I see Brooklyn again.

I didn't write nearly enough on Udaipur, but it was a fantastic 8 days spent with Jacob and his friends. JAKE- write about art! Some of my favorite moments on this trip so far were in Udaipur, from taking motorbike trips around the countryside, to playing with dogs at the animal aid shelter, to watching a cow slowly slowly chase a ball down a hill (is it okay to laugh hysterically at a holy cow? I hope so...)

Dancing fools reunited in fairytale land!

Photos from top:
That's me with Rishi's sisters and their friends. I absolutely love these girls. They're all studying to be doctors and engineers, and they study all day and all night every day. Definitely a lesson in how to work hard and be a good student! When we would hang out, we would just laugh and laugh.

That's all the boys dancing at the disco. I never thought I would be outdanced by so many people, but damn can Indians dance hard for hours...

Jake and his teacher Sri Singh. Check out that beard, folks!!

Jake took this shot of his painting studio while we were waiting to go to dinner at his teacher's brother's house.

Greetings from Udaipur! I'm staying with Jake for the next couple of days while I get my head on straight, and figure out where I will bounce to next. I had a few too many crazy adventures in Jaipur, and thought it might be best to get of town before I became a reluctant star in my own bollywood movie. The work I was doing was really wonderful, and I'm sorry to be leaving that behind. I was able to compile and share a great list of resources and networks concerned with responsible tourism, particularly in India. However, my short stay in Jaipur has been one intense lesson about India after another. The uglier realities of this society are setting in, and I unfortunately had to witness some of them, from scam artists to perceptions of foreign women. The day I decided to leave was a day in which the following happened: midnight- a drunk man at the disco I would often go to made some really rude comments to Rishi about me and Rishi nearly punched the guy out. 11am - Rishi was hit by a car while driving his rickshaw, thrown from his vehicle, knocked unconscious, and the driver fled (which I'm learning is very common in India), leaving Rishi to pay for his totaled rickshaw on his own.. 4pm- Met with "Jack Daniel" a scam artist who tried to convince me that he wasn't one, but couldn't prove anything because when I asked for his ID, he couldn't show me. (I had been introduced to Jack by a friend who had no idea this man was a scam artist. I knew right away from the gold bracelets to the things he said to the fact that he couldn't really tell me what he did for a living. Didn't want to cause a scene, so I enjoyed tea with him and left, hoping he wouldn't call again, but unfortunately he did. It was because he kept calling that I had to tell him that I knew who he was, and that I didn't want to see him again). Found out later that Rishi had brought "guys" and Jack had brought "guys" to wait outside the coffee shop in case anything happened. What is this, a gangster movie? Was a bit freaked out about the way things ended with this man Jack, especially because Jaipur is such a small city, and he was nervous that I would go to the police even though I promised him I wouldn't. 09pm- While eating dinner on a rooftop restaurant with a fellow American woman, we experienced a near tornado, as the wind picked up suddenly, lighting and thunder started, and tables and chairs, glasses and plates were whizzing by as we ran for cover with the other diners. 11pm- Calming ourselves over beers in a pub downstairs from the restaurant, we watched the rain intensify and finally subside. Just when I thought everything was fine, I got a phone call from Rishi telling me he had been in ANOTHER accident (because of the rain, the roads were slippery, and the rickshaw he was driving flipped). I rushed to the emergency room (not a fun place in the states, and definitely not a fun place in India), dodged strange looks and the 'what country' questions, and waited with Rishi's friends for him to get his x-rays and his head wrapped.

I stayed on in Jaipur for a few days more, just hanging out with Rishi's family and taking it easy. It wasn't easy to leave the dear friends I'd made in the city, but I think it's for the best that I head out of town... Now I'm in Udaipur with Jake, and I understand how he can stay here for a month. He has an absolutely incredible setup, and this city is just beautiful. Everybody seems to know him (there aren't too many wild-haired bearded guys wandering around, but still...), and he introduced me to his painting teacher and his family, who are just fantastic people! The Hindi New Year was celebrated yesterday, and we managed to stumble into a huge BJP (Hindu nationalist political party) parade, in which Jake promptly got swept up and nearly carried away by the dancing men. (Crazy dancing in political parade- check)


All in all, I think this will be a rejuvinating few days... Then I'll head off to Delhi, and I think to Singapore for a week. We'll see what the next few weeks will bring- Positively nothing can surprise me anymore...