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The Hog’s Ride

Just a normal day, hopping into a rickshaw to get home after work. I am riding on the IIT flyover when I see two guys on a motorbike...Normal…with what looks like a dead hog in the middle of them…Not Normal. The guy in the back has the hog on its back arched over his lap and he seems to be tickling its neck when all of the sudden the thing starts kicking and wiggling. The driver tries to maintain focus and balance as this thing is thrashing about and the little man holding it is desperately trying to calm it before they all topple over. I was transfixed. I watched helplessly and could not turn away. Were they going to crash, would my auto stop in time to avoid hitting them? Does no one else find this strange or disturbing?

Finally, somehow the man was able to suppress the hog and the driving went back to normal and they proceeded out of my sight.

These are the days that I appreciate how strange of a place that I am in.

What Do You Mean?

This question seems to haunt my life here. I think that I am getting along fine until I realize how many times a day I ask this question. You don’t realize how much you are learning on a daily basis even when you are not trying to. India just bombards your mind and senses and it is no wonder that I am so mentally exhausted by the end of the day even when I didn’t think that I accomplished much.

I look around the office and no one is working and upon inquiring I find out that it is another holiday. What this time? Oh, it is some Guru/God/famous persons’ birthday/death/great accomplishment. If you haven’t noticed the trend in my blogs Indians are always celebrating something, and I am always goggling/wiking to figure out what the heck is going on. I think it is just as an excuse not to work… Just yesterday I found out that they used to celebrate thanksgiving in the office. I asked if they knew what Thanksgiving was…Nope…like I mentioned just another excuse to celebrate.

In a normal day I am lost and confused at least 20 separate times and need to ask for clarifications. I constantly break Indian nuances and superstitions and they just assume that I know these things. For instance, you are not supposed to hand someone scissors because if you do, it means that you will fight in the future. What I thought was a simple question: What is the Indian equivalent of a Sophomore and Junior? A 10 minute discussion ensues.

I recently ordered a book called “Speaking to Indians.” Chapter 1: Yes means Yes, or Maybe, or No…how to tell

I was a Speech Communication Major in college for goodness sake. I studied small group and interpersonal communication. In the states I am clear and concise. In India, no matter how many times I repeat myself, speak slowly, and make analogies to my main point – the Indian mind cannot grasp my intensions and I can’t decipher their codes and hidden meaning either. Makes for difficult meetings, and boy is that frustrating.

Happy Birthday Grandma!

Today is my Grandma's 87th Birthday, and she is an amazing woman! She inspired me to travel from an early age by enchanting me with stories of following Tennis around the world. I admire her adventurous spirt and I never tire of hearing about how she helicoptered over the glaciers of Alaska only a few years back against warnings and recommendations that she should not. Hopefully one day I will get to do the same. Happy Birthday Grandma! I love you!