When Life Gives you Lemons…

This weekend was my first weekend trip outside of the city. My roommates and I have been planning for some time now to go to a city in Rajasthan called Udaipur. It is the “City of Lakes” and called the Venice of India. We bought our train tickets and were preparing ourselves for our first Indian overnight train. I heard was a complete experience in its own. We get to the train station early only to find out that our tickets say that we are waitlisted and there is absolutely no space on the train to upgrade or downgrade. Nothing. We stood there and watched as our train and our weekend plans chug, chugged away from us.

Determined to make something of the weekend we all went home, all grabbed our computers and guidebooks and sat in my room calling friends, and researching places that we could get to see enough of and return home in two days and still be close enough to Jaipur where Saabria was meeting her parents on Monday. Not the easiest project. We decided on Sariska Tiger Park. We called a service, found a driver and arranged for an early 6 am pick-up.

We got about an hour outside of Delhi when we hit a major traffic jam. There was a queue of brightly painted and decorated trucks pulled to the side of the road for miles. We tried to go around them by finding back roads but just ran into a blocked road every way we went. Our driver Mansihgn was asking everyone he could for alternative routes and what is one person’s business is everyone’s business. People were all listening to the issue and throwing out suggestions. Everyone was willing to help. It was great. Finally we t-boned an auto (rickshaw) driver and he offered to lead the way. He was local and also needed to get through the traffic. He is navigating these little routes until we found ourselves driving through the middle of a market! In traffic no rules apply. Desperate not to fall behind our new traffic savior Mansighn jumped out of the car and moved a table below the tent that we were driving under to get by.

Once back on the main road there were random people from the town who had jumped out onto the road to direct the traffic. It was such a mess. The thing is, that there are so many people and a traffic jam just creates something for many people to do so strangers are more than willing to help. In a strange way I started to feel like part of a community with these random people and their kind deeds.

The roads are such a mess and there is a whole form of communication that I quickly learned. If you are behind a truck you will go onto the other side of the road to pass it. A honk behind the truck means you are going to pass it. Many honks when you are beside the truck means either you are pushing me off the road or you need to slow down so I can cut in front before I hit this car head on. If you are on the correct side of the road going with the flow of traffic and you flash your lights you are acknowledging that you see that car coming at you. If you flash your lights when you are on the wrong side of the road it means that you are telling the car in front of you that you are heading at them and they better slow down and not hit you before you can cut over. We slammed on the breaks and avoided being smashed by trucks more times than I would like to admit, but somehow these crazy drivers are so skilled that you start to relax. I mean, I did so much that I fell asleep for a majority of the ride.

The lives of the people in the country are so different than those of the people in the city. You see the women in their colorful saris carrying grass, sticks, and tools on their heads while the men are sleeping the day away…okay not all, but it is known that in the poor communities it is the women who do the manual labor and the men have an easier situation. Of course this is a complete generalization, but Alex said that he wanted us to point it out to him if we see one man lifting anything…and we couldn’t the entire ride.

We got to the park at 12:30 after a long ride of horrible roads and found out that our 5 year old lonely planet had wrong info and the park closed at 4 and there were no safari’s until the season started next weekend. Saabira just looked at us and said, “this is just not our weekend” It was starting to feel that way until we headed to the park and drove around seeing Monkeys, Peacocks and a Leopard! It was so wild and kind of scary even though we were in a car. I wasn’t expecting that at all since there were rumors that there were no more tigers living in Sariska because of poaching. It totally redeemed the weekend for everyone in the car!

From there we headed to Siliserh where there was a lake to relax at. We went out on a paddle boat ride to watch the sun set. It was so calming and it was a nice way to end the night. After reading in the guide book that there were hotels that said, “single women will feel uncomfortable here” we decided to ask more locals for recommendations. We found a great hotel with a great terrace and we settled down for the night.

The next morning we read about a fort (Bala Quila) up in the hills the next town over in Alwar. Little did we know that this was going to be a trip less about the destination and more about a cultural experience. It was a religious holiday weekend and we were headed to a place with not one, but two temples on it. We walked for hours flanked on all sides at all times with an entourage of 20-30 people following us; old and young, men and women. Although it was always the men who were trying to talk and laugh. If ever encountered alone or asked a question that they don’t know, trust me the group confidence quickly subsides into embarrassment. The attention was funny at first, but by the third hour of it, I didn’t want to be asked what country I was from, if Alex with his long blonde hair was a boy or girl or if was I “enjoying?” I just wanted to walk in peace and stop being harassed and having my picture taken. Motorbikes were driving too close and honking and I just wanted out. Saabira was frustrated that she couldn’t go anywhere with her flatmates without all of the attention. It really can stop you from enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.

All in all it was an interesting weekend to say the least. We didn’t want to just let one slow rolling train ride off with our fun, so we made the best of the situation and ended up having a great weekend. I will tell you one thing. I will never go back to Alwar and their non-touristy area. It was just too much attention and I am all set with the celebrity life for quite some time.

Off the Grid

Well, I received frustrating news today...

Last Saturday while relaxing at my house I decided to give my computer the bi-weekly allowance of downloading all of it's updates. Included was one for my iPhone. Great! I love new developments and software updates for my beloved pink phone. So I download it and hit install. Instantly my phone starts syncing and then my screen goes white with a message on my iTunes that I have illegally unlocked my phone and that they have taken the liberty to locked it again.

Okay, so granted I had to take my phone somewhere to activate it to the indian cell service, but I am living here for goodness sake. It's not like it is an affordable option to make long distance calls on the american international plan. I didn't even realize that it was not allowed. I just thought that you ran some risk of things not working properly.

So I gave my phone to someone in my office to take back to the original place to Unlock it again. I gave him my phone on Monday, it is now Thursday and I still don't have it. Last time it only took an afternoon...never a good sign. So I inquired after my phone, and found out that somehow my computer betrayed me and sent some message behind my back to the apple police. What! I thought this was my computer. I didn't invest a bunch of money into a Mac to have it tell on me! Back-stabbing piece of finely crafted aluminum. Jack, can you do anything about this!

The reason for this, is that the the iPhone in India costs $700 and the cell service is much cheaper. They shut down phones like mine to avoid american iPhones from being brought over illegally and sold for significantly lower prices. I get it, but it still doesn't make me any less upset.

I always used to talk about how I like to be off the grid and I hated being available to everyone at all times, but I have become so reliant on my cell phone...google maps lets me know if a rickshaw driver is going the wrong way, note pad lets me jot down ideas for my blog. I can't effectively meet up with anyone, and if they are running late, how am I supposed to know. Life without my iPhone is a lonely vulnerable place. I know - dramatic, but I miss it and I am angry at Apple for limited my global opportunities.

Smelly Delhi

I know it is not nice to call names, but Delhi is just smelly! I am not quite sure what it is, but you will be riding around and then you come by one of the most foul smells causing you to want to hold your breath until you pass out. People litter and oh, it makes me so so so angry! I want to get out of the car and throw the trash back in their faces. But I don't think that is where the smells come from. I think it is the foul, spoiled food on the streets and the Cows and the stray dogs. I am not sure.

The people just don't respect the land around them. They are constantly spitting everywhere - while walking, out of rickshaws and on the sidewalks. I find my klutzy self always looking down to avoid the hazards of the sidewalk: uneven pavement, slippery marble walkways, spit, trash, food, dog poop, and puddles. I will contort my body mid-step to avoid the puddles. You never know what it is. I think I walked through puke yesterday. I know TMI.

So perfect segue from the puddles is that the men Pee anywhere and everywhere! There is no discretion. If you have to go, you just go. People will just hop off their bikes and go on the side walk. I am still not used to it and I pass at least 2-3 people on my way to work each morning, if not more. No wonder people are so religious about taking their shoes off when they get into their houses. It is just disgusting!

I am Legal!

The FRRO (Foreign Regional Registration Office) is one of the most torturous experiences. I had been warned ahead of time to bring snacks, water and comfortable shoes because it is an all day affair. I thought that people we exaggerating, but not so much.

It all started when Alison told me that I had to get registered. I knew that I had to, but I kind of brushed it off. I had to gather all of this paperwork to get it taken care of and she said that it was an awful process that took her three visits to get right. To spare me of this pain she wrote down all of the papers that I needed. The most difficult one to get was my lease from my Landlady. It only took a month from when I moved in. Like I said, it is really efficient here...not!

Luckily my company arranged for me to have a driver bring me to the FRRO in the morning since I had no clue where it was and I needed to get there early. It opened at 9:30, so as I was advised I was picked up at 7:30 and arrived to a bunch of Expats sitting around a courtyard at 7:45. I sat down and someone motioned to me that I had to put my name on a list. So I walk up the ramp to the wrong list, find the right list, don't have a pen, have the only other American give me a pen, write down my name as # 24, and then sit down. Meanwhile, I realize that my driver who I cannot communicate with at all is waiting around and probably thinks that he has to stay until I am done and bring me to the office. I start trying to explain to him that he can go and I will take and auto home, but he doesn't understand. So he grabs this other guy who still can't translate and then the only other American comes to my rescue once again...turns out he speaks Hindi. From helping me twice we soon connected over the fact that we firstly both spoke english, and secondly we were in a miserable situation.

As 9:00 rolled around, it was so hot and there was no shade. They lined us up in the order that we arrived and we stood in line for another 40 minutes until the doors opened. As we waited we started talking about the horror stories of people having to come back multiple times and not getting the paperwork, or waiting only to find out that you have the wrong stuff. We went through our checklists only to learn the Mike had forgotten his passport photos at home (and you needed 4 for the process). It then took another hour to get to the woman who took my passport and gave me a number so that I could stand in another line. I at least was out of the sun. So as I am standing in this corridor I am looking around and I see that everyone has a paper that they are filling out and that they neglected to give to me. I had to hunt this down, but no one was willing to help. I couldn't even ask Mike to translate because he was running around trying to find a photo shop (not too difficult - one was set up across the street to take advantage of situations like this).

I finally got the paper and start filling it out - people cutting and on top of each other, all grabbing for the glue and sharing pens. I get to the head of the line breaking out in nervous sweat to find out if I am going to be rejected. There were four men sitting behind the counter. One checking paper, one occasionally writing down the directions to places were people could find the info they were missing and the other two were just hanging out. For a place that is run so inefficiently you would think that they would use the extra hands on deck to actually do some work. There were arguments and people going up to the man that had the "In Charge" sign hanging over his head and complaining. I looked at him, handed him my passport, then my application, my work contract, my letter saying that I worked at the office, the letter saying that if I got in trouble that my job would take responsibility, my 4 passport photos, and then my lease...my lease that took a month to get was not Notarized. I was rejected. After 4 hours of waiting I was rejected. I couldn't believe it. I started to ask what I had to do and he was not surprisingly very rude and unhelpful. I argued and told him that he had to give me a number and that I would be able to get the notary before I was called in the line. He said fine, put me in the queue. I asked for the address of the Notary. He sighed frustratedly, turned to the guy next to him, said something in Hindi and I was handed a paper that said, "Delhi Public Notary." No address or directions...Thanks for the help!

I look at Mike who has to make photocopies after nearly making it through the process on his study visa and we venture back out into the heat. We are wandering aimlessly asking people for directions and no one knows where the DPN is. Finally we say those words and this old man on the street looks at us knowingly gesturing for us to follow him. He starts walking quickly through a maze of people then through another maze of markets and shops. I have no clue where we are but he knows were we have to go. Desperately not wanting to miss out on our place in line we chase after him. He was very quick for someone I would say was 70+ and I had trouble keeping up, and we all know I am a fast walker. We finally end at a Notary. I pay 150 rupees to get some stamps on a piece of paper -- they didn't even look at what was written on it or take any type of identifications (just a giant waste of time and money)! Then the man leads us to a photocopier, waits for us to finsih and leads us back to where we came from. We thanked him, gave him 50 rupees and headed back to the FRRO. While this was happening all I could think about was...only in India...

We got back to the FRRO and proceeded to sit for another 2 hours only hoping that we would have everything correct for the next step. I made it through the gauntlet and thanked Alison 100 times for the pre-info and Mike got rejected. He had to get paperwork sent to him from a town 40 minutes away so that he could get the info processed and head to Jaipur that weekend. What a mess!

Even though it is a highly annoying and inefficient process, the one good thing is that everyone who is here 6 months or longer has to go through it. You can't cut the line no matter who you are and you have to be present. Even if you are paying someone to stand in line for you, you have to show up and sit so you are present when you are handing in the paperwork. I cannot believe that I might have to do this all over again when I renew my visa. Here is hoping that I can avoid it by some chance.

Despite Everything...I feel proud to say that I am now an official resident of New Delhi, India

Don't Yuck My Yum

This is a long awaited post for some of my foodie friends out there who have been asking me since day one...what have you been eating. I hope that this post satisfies your curiosity, but there is still have a huge gastronomical expedition ahead of me.

Commonly asked questions about my food habits:

1. Are you a vegetarian?

Yes, one that eats all meat :) I get stereotyped often as a vegetarian, because I love tofu, granola, and could live off of vegetables for the rest of my life, but if a steak looks great, it is on my plate. I love lentils but I live for Bacon. The way that I describe it is I am a very non-picky eater who prefers veg dishes and takes advantage when going to a place famous for it's meat like Karims where I went with my roommates the first week of Delhi that is known as a "non-vegetarian delight"

2. Do you like Indian Food?

Love it! The only time I got sick of it was right before I left Boston when everyone who I told that I was moving to Delhi wanted to take me out to an Indian restaurant to celebrate. I have since learned that the only kind of Indian food that I had tried at home was Northern Indian. I have also discovered a much different version of Southern Indian which I also love.

3. Does India have anything besides Indian food?

Yes, Delhi has many different types of food, but that doesn't mean that it is prepared well. The mexican was less than average and didn't even come close to comparing to Anna's or the food that I had in San Diego the month before I came here. I have had plenty of Thai, there is seafood, sushi (which I haven't had yet) and Subway, McDonalds, PizzaHut...and the like. I have not had McD's yet, but the Subway is right next to work and on a typical day I would get an Aloo Patty or Corn and Peas sub with one type of cheese...cheese. Yeah, I know, doesn't sound that appetizing huh? Well, I resisted for a while and when I tried it, it wasn't that bad.

3. Are you scared that you will get sick?

Been there done that...Not too badly in India yet. They commonly refer to it as the "Delhi Belly" and I hear that when it hits, you know. I was sick for almost a month in Costa Rica and I almost died in Budapest with some Goulash gone bad landing me in the hospital. Thanks for the ride to the ER that day Jack. I still owe you! So needless to say, I have convinced myself that I have been sick so many times that I have built up a little bit of resistance to play with.

Let me continue by saying that I am no food expert. I may or may not have waited (I did) until restaurant week was over in Boston before moving here, but I have just started learning about French cuisine and terms like " amuse bouche" and how to say french fries in the fancy way...frites. But I do like to think of myself as an adventurous eater. I think that started when I was a little kid. With my parents not allowing me to leave the table without trying whatever they were eating. How was I supposed to know if I liked it without trying it. I have learned that I like things spicy, and if they are a little dangerous or weird it just makes it even more fun. I still have to find something more strange than crispy caterpillars to beat Jeff. The worst part is that he had to pick the legs out of his teeth when he was done. What can one-up that?

So back to the Indian cuisine. The indian that you are used to in Boston and elsewhere in the states is typically Northern Indian foods like Palak Paneer, Chicken Tandori, Tiki Masala and Dal. It is heavier and it is usually meat or veg in some sort of gravy(sauce) and delicious. The Southern Indian food is more like Dosas and Uttappam. Southern Indian food is generally eaten with your hand and I am getting good at scooping the rice in three fingers and using my thumb to push it into my mouth.

Within the two cuisines I have tried all sorts of things. Usually I go into a restaurant and look at the menu, that looks something like below:

Murg is Chicken

and I just ask for something that I have no clue what it is and learn if I like it or not. It sometimes works and sometimes has been a disappointment. I also ask for their recommendations and see what is brought to the table. For those who are indecisive a great option is a Thali this is a bunch of little samples of many different types of food. It usually comes with rice and a few roti to eat all sorts of delectable. After one such southern indian meal I was asked if I wanted Paan.

Thali and a Lassi in the background

Alison and I eating our Dosas

paan

I didn't know since I had never had it, so I said sure. It was explained to me that is was a bunch of spices wrapped up in a leaf that is eaten to cleanse the palate after a meal. I could def benefited from one of these so when it came to the table I popped it in my mouth, chewed for about 30 seconds before it became unbearable and I embarrassedly spit it out. I learned that day that I do not like Paan.

Bread is another adventure. There are so many different kids that you can choose from. There is Naan, Roti, Chapati, Appam and I am sure many more, but those are the ones that I eat most oftenly. I describe the Appam as the squishy one shaped like a bowl. I really like Naan and I have Chapati's for dinner every day.

Which leads me to another great point...what do I eat for dinner you ask? Well that was a question that my very concerned and interested team asked me today. I been lucky enough to have my maid Punita cook for our house 5 times a week. We, meaning Saabria my Indian roommate and the only person in the house who can speak Hindi orders the veggies and then based on what we have Punita will cook up something delicious. She made Aloo Gobi two days ago and I loved it, and today we had a Okra Curry, which I scarfed down. Alex and Saabs get their meats form the market or have the chicken place deliver to the house. They have been eating these delicious, seasoned and spiced chicken kebabs.

something Punita made thrown in with some of Alex's chicken Kebabs and Meatballs

I have been being told since day one...don't eat the street food. You don't know how long it has been there and how sanitary it is, so of course I couldn't resist. I was at the Sarojini Nagar Market the first time I tried Gol Gappa. I was kind of hungry and with my roommate Saabs who said casually, want to try this? Trustingly I was hoping that she wouldn't put my stomach or health in danger, so I said yes. The guy gave us two little tin bowls and he took a tiny puff pastry, shoved something that looked like potatoes inside, and then dunked it in broth and served it bare-handed to our bowls. Saabs looks at me and says pop the whole thing in your mouth at once like sushi. I did and it was quite good. I thought we were just getting one, but I soon found that as soon as you were finished he would just pop another on in the tin. I think that we got 6 each not a bad deal.

So there is still so much to try and I haven't even ventured that far into the options. I am sure there will be many more delicious tries and some that will be disastrous, but for now good night, and remember don't ever yuck someones yum, especially if you haven't tried it yourself.

Not Giving into Peer Pressure

I am so incredibly inspired by my new job. I know that I am working for the same company, but it is a whole different ball game and I am so intrigued by every little aspect of it. It was exactly what I needed, a new challenge thrown in my face. I just want to learn as much as possible so that I can excel. I am going back to the basics and I feel like such a nerd. My room is filled with books about India. I play with Google maps every night and stand in front of my Delhi city map on my was pronouncing the names of the markets and areas. My roommate has already told me on multiple occasions that my Hindi pronunciations are horrendous and I should be ashamed.

I just read the Namesake in three days, I am looking into Rosetta Stone to learn Hindi and tonight I decided not to go out dancing and drinking so I could stay in and read articles on negotiation and business to business selling…like I said, I am really cool!! (I thought that deserved two). But it’s strange; I just can’t get enough learning about it all. I want to know the culture; I want to figure out the art of bartering and being able to completely connect so I can get the sale. How am I supposed to teach it, and at that – confidently if I don’t know that I myself can do it. So here begins my journey.

Many of the schools are for-profit businesses and they see every thing that is presented to them as an opportunity to make money and better their business. Principals want to know what they can get out of it and management wants to make sure that the tours are really going to make them more marketable to the students and the parents who pay the tuition that they are all competing for. This is different than in the states, where “it’s for the children” In Boston we trash talk the greedy teachers who are doing it to make money, secretly admiring their gusto. Here in India where it is expected that everything is negotiable, it is expected that when we present a price, the school will push back saying, "okay I see that. Is this the Price that you give to all of the schools? Now what can you do for me." What is the answer to this? Well what I am quickly learning is that it does really depend on the school, their prestige and how we can use their name in our next sales pitch.

After going to the market for the weekend with my new roommate I am learning that she is a fierce negotiator - and Hindi isn't even her first language. I now have a goal to have her come work for my company. Either that; or she will have to teach me everything that she knows. I asked her what her secret is. She said that she just says no. I followed up by saying well what if you don’t know what the cost is, and she said that you just have to learn over time and trust your judgment of whether they are cheating you or not. The only problem she continued, is that when they are being honest and you try to bargain too much it will teach them to have a higher price at the start. It's a vicious cycle because everyone thinks that they are being cheated and no one trusts anyone. That's why relationships and referrals are so important here.

Okay, well I am off to read my “Getting to Yes” book by Fisher, Ury and Patton Second Edition that I bought at the Harvard Coop and brought all the way here with me just in case I found myself in a position like I am in tonight. Feeling like a nerd!

A Few Quirks

There are some things here that just make me laugh because my reactions are so ingrained by society, and I didn't notice the strange things around me or that I do until the behaviors are not the norm of the people around you.

1. Tight, Decorated Pants. As we know back home, this is a normal thing for women who are going out or maybe trying to look good on the weekend. The more stitching and design, usually the more designer and expensive. They are tight and showy, and we think that they look good...and so do the men here :) So most of the women in their day to day life either wear saris or loose fitting suits (Pant and long shirt sets) and it is the men who wear tighter pants. It cracks me up! It is not everyone, but many of the men that I drive by in the mornings on my way to work have bum-hugging designed jeans and they are so skinny that their belts wrap one and a half times around them. As promised, when I finally get around to it, a picture will be posted.

2. No Bless You. I didn't realize how ingrained in the American culture that when someone sneezes, at least one person yells out "Bless You" or it's considered rude. So of course the first week of being in the office, I loudly said bless you, and no one else responded. I totally called myself out saying, "oh, you guys don't say that here, huh?" They tried to make me feel better by saying that they do sometimes, but since then, every time I sneeze no one blesses me.

3. Being Called Ma'am. I don't know if I am ever going to get used to this one. It is like, "Good Morning Ma'am. How are you doing Ma'am. Sure Ma'am. That's 40 rupees ma'am." and so on. I just want to say, "Just call me Quinnen!" But I think that would be rude. It makes me feel a mixture between being and old lady, but mostly awkward like I have some superior status.

4. No longer thinking that 89 degrees is hot. My AC has been broken for the last week or so, but luckily as everyone has been telling me, "It hasn't been hot recently." I agree, only sweating a little bit in comparison to when I first got here. It was 93 degrees today.

5. Touching Water and Beer before it is served. One thing that I was warned about was to check the seal on water before drinking it. I knew to look for that, but when I ordered a bottle of water at a table and they presented it to me like a bottle of wine, I didn't know what to do. I nodded, and then Alison quickly reached out her hand and touched it. She explained that I have to touch it and tell them that it is acceptably cold before they will pour it.

6. Testing out appliances before buying. Similarly, when buying an appliance at a store or market, everyone opens everything, removes it from its packaging and presents it to you for your inspection. They plug it in and show that it works and allow you to quickly turn it away, only to have to pack everything up all over again before the next customer. I just take for granted the trust that we have for our stores in America.

Run and Jump

I went to a market today after work and got stuck in rickshaw traffic so it gave me plenty of time to sit back and observe the happenings around me. I am still shocked after riding around all of this time that the roads somehow work. I thought that my vehicle was going to squeeze out a motorbike or I was going to get crushed by a bus multiple times, but man do these rickshaws stop on a dime. If they get in a jam. The just get out and push them where they need to be re-corrected. So far I have only seen one accident, and I wouldn't even call it that by any standards.

So speaking of Vehicles, the busses particularly fascinate me, even more than the auto or bike rickshaws. I had been warned before coming to never take a bus and I didn't quite understand why until I saw one. The local busses are packed like sardines. I know that is an expression, but seriously, I have never seen this before. There are so many people that half of them are hanging off the end or the side or the bus. I haven't even figured out how they get off when it is their stop.

But the best thing about these busses are that when people see them and they are running late, the traffic is so slow that they can just run and jump. I watched in disbelief on my first day, saw it happen many more times, and then just today to inspire this blog. Seriously, I think that this system should be adopted in more cities. Don't worry about the safety standard and let the person who is running make the judgement call. If they miss and fall, their fault for trying. If Boston adopted this there would have been many less days of me running, panting, knocking on the door of the bus at the stop light, being rejected, yelling, and then late to work Quinnen. I am just saying that maybe safety rules aren't all they are cracked up to be.

Wedding, Marriage, and Family

These are three things that are super important to most of the Indians that I have encountered. I think that I was asked by almost everyone in the office if I was married within my first week. At my age I should be married. I should at least be wondering why I am not, or telling my parents that I don't want to be arranged. I think at my age, a fresh, young 26 year old that I am on the boarder of old maid, or at least by 30 I would be. At least I can say that I have a boyfriend and that sees good enough for most people.

Indians wear a lot of rings and a lot of jewelry, but no wedding band. So one day I asked, "who in the office is married?" and the answer was, "just assume everyone."

It has been so interesting learning about arranged marriages and the whole process, because it is nothing like I thought. My understanding was that the two getting married were complete strangers and the woman has absolutely no say in the matter and it is the saddest time of her life because she is generally going to be moving far away from her family. Although this does still happen with certain people, more of the poor or little tribal towns, it is less common in the bigger cities.

I was talking to one woman who after asking me if I was married she said straight out, "I was arranged." Okay, I thought, how am I supposed to answer - was she happy, was she not, was she just trying to teach me about the culture? So, I just asked. Were you happy about that? She said that she is because she got a good guy. She explained that when she was ready to find a husband her family put an ad in the paper and then a bunch of men would respond with their credentials. Out of the ones whom she was interested in, she would meet them and their families and then it would be decided upon. They way she described it is that she very much had a say, but the families are really involved and in arranged marriages, often the couple doesn't meet more than a few times before they decide.

Love marriages are becoming much more common and women are starting to refuse to be arranged. This only works if the family allows it, like I mentioned earlier. The bride's family has to give a huge dowery, but then they no longer have to support the daughter, so that is why it is better to have them married off. The men on the other hand, chose their bride and then get married and then I think often live with the man's family.

Since the man receives the dowery and the family doesn't have to pay for the weddings, having a male son is seen as a cause to celebrate. The weddings are set up in a very similar fashion. And just to remind you, I went to a North Indian Wedding which is much different than a South Indian Wedding. The traditions are just different. I got all dressed up in my Sari from the holiday party purchased in the US. So, come to find that it is incredibly plain and not a wedding Sari. This means that there is no sparkle or jewels or beading in the material. The girl that was getting me ready kept saying that it doesn't matter what I wear, just the fact that I am wearing a Sari is great!

I showed up and there were fireworks and a small marching band and people holing lights and in the middle of the music players was the family, drenched in sweat, dancing right in front of the main attraction. The Groom on a horse. He is sitting up there with a little boy. Who is this little boy you might wonder, well again from what I understand is that since the Groom is having such fortune, there are evil spirits that want to ruin that so it is a good omen to have a little boy to distract the spirits. I am not too sure about this one, it was really loud when I was hearing the explanation.

So the grooms family and friends get in side of this tunnel that the band has created and dance all the way down the street for a couple of hours to to reception place where the brides family is. The Grooms' family is supposed to be happy and dancing because he is getting the bride and the Bride and her party are supposed to be sad. I think I left at 11:30 and the ceremonies had just started. They were going to be officially married at 1:00 in the morning and only the close family stays for that. Everyone else just comes, dances, eats and leaves. Also, a lot of people don't eat meat on Tuesdays because of their religion, so it was all veg food.

One thing that the girls were trying to explain to me is that there is a crying ceremony where the girl officially leaves her family and becomes part of the Groom's family. I was asking if it is a love match, then is there still this part and they said yes. That they are supposed to be sad to be leaving your family even if you are really happy to be with your husband. One girl who was a love match said that she was really happy and her family was telling her that she had to cry, to show that she was going to miss them. It is all so interesting to me.

I don't know exactly all what I thought about it. I was trying to pick up some of the indian dance moves, and I just felt like a fool. Everyone was again looking at me because I was the only white person at the wedding. The only one. So anytime I tried something new they were all like, "Oh, look at the cute little white girl trying to dance Bollywood. Oh, look at the white girl trying new foods. Oh, look at the white girl wearing a Sari."

Ok...we know I really liked it, and I loved seeing everyone all dressed up and I hope that I get to go to another one again before I leave.

Me and Sandesha. She helped me get dressed before the wedding.

The Grooms Party dancing up a storm

Sabby on his horse before entering the main building.

The Day to Day Delhi

I am still not too comfortable taking out my camera and being a tourist, so over time I will be collecting more of the Real Delhi photos. Some day I will have the courage to snap a photo of the construction men by my house who stack bricks on their heads to carry them up 4 flights, and someday I will capture the 4 person family piled onto a motorbike wearing colorful saris and dangling scarves and someday I will capture the life of the people living in shanties on the side of the road, but for now - here are the markets and the traffic.

This is my street from my balcony

Not the best shot, but these women are always side-saddle and I fear that they are going to fall

The view from inside a rickshaw of other auto rickshaws

The Kahn Market

(it is still early on the weekend that is why there aren't many people)

A bush shaped like an Elephant - can't wait to see a real one

This is a Mosque in the Lodi Gardens that I saw on my walking tour

In the Muslim Religion it is not allowed to use people or animals in sculpture so all of the detail is written script.

Just a little Yoga in the Park

Another mosque in Lodi Gardens

I think that the guard is pointing at me. This is at the Prime Ministers place

This Principal had Some Bling Bling

I am trying to learn more about the business from all aspects so I can completely understand the audience that we are working with, so I am jumping right in. I went on my first school visit this week. I accompanied one of the Tour Consultant here to meet with the Principal. The school that we went to has seen a lot of visitors and there is a very good reason for that - they were our first school to sign on to travel with us when we started. The K.R.Mangalam world school.

From what I have learned we used to travel with this school, and then a new principal has come in. Even though she is coming from another school that also traveled with us, it is just like starting from scratch. It normally takes a lot of time to get a visit with the Principal but we have contacts with the management so things went quicker. You see, the thing that is so different about the school systems here are that they are run like businesses. There is an owner, and management, and then the Principal who sometimes is on the Board, but there are all of these stakeholders who have a say in everything that happens in the school...especially something like kids traveling abroad.

So the Principal is pretty high up. He or in this case she is like a VP who makes the decision to either move forward or propose the trip to management. So we arrive at the school which is gated in, and sign in with the guards. We go in and hand in another sign in slip to the receptionist who keeps us waiting for about 15-20 minutes because the principal is eating her breakfast. When she is finished we are called in. I am introduced as a manager, the flattery begins and then we get down to business...I think. There are tons of tours and dates thrown around, no real firm numbers and then tea and cookies are served. We discuss a little further, some push-back, swine flu concerns, and some more tour talk.

Everyone here talks really quickly and I still struggle to follow conversation at times let alone jump in, so I was definitely an observer. What I noticed is there is this air of superiority that is around the Principal. You can be a little direct, but that comes more with time and the relationship. Also, you seem to have to keep talking, because if there is any break in the convo, the principal may decide that she is two busy and cut you off. She seemed exhausted, but didn't really seem to be doing anything, and she had a ton of Bling! She had a diamond solitaire bracelet and two huge diamond rings; one on each hand. They were huge and I found myself distracted and blinded by the light reflecting off of them.

Needless to say we left the meeting and I was a confused with what the decision had been made so I think I have a lot to learn and a lot to teach. I am excited to go to more meetings and start to compare, but I have heard that the Delhi schools are a little more pretentious than other regions. A few more weeks and I think I will be traveling to schools in other regions of India...so cool!

What is it Worth to You

I was going to go to bed early and actually try and catch up on some sleep, but I am just so frustrated right now. I feel like there are so many excuses and haggling and guilt involved with everything. I was just laughing in the last log about how I thought it was funny that I am charged double for everything, but today I had a really awful auto rickshaw driver who caused me to walk in circles around my house talking to myself.

I decided to go to a market after work to go shopping for a light blanket for my bed to make my empty room feel more like home. It is big which is great, but really empty and there is nothing on the walls. So I ventured out to the GK1 Nblock market where I knew of a large Fabindia that had blankets, sheets and pillows of every color shape and size. I tricked Alex into coming with me to shop, poor kid, but we got an rickshaw from our neighborhood to the market for 40 rupees. The thing is - you never really know how much something should cost, and neither do they so it is all about who is going to be more believable in the when it comes down to the bluff. That's why you have to negotiate everything before you step a foot into the rickshaw.

For the 40 rupees we drove pretty far, got stuck in late rush hour traffic, and he took us to the wrong market. Can you believe that after a week I knew enough to tell the difference between the GK1 Nblock market and the GK2 Mblock market :) Yeah that's right, I know I am good! He took the money and never asked for more. On my way home it was dark and Alex was heading out to meet up with a friend. I still looked like a tourist, and I now had three shopping bags with me. I asked how much it was going to cost to get to Sarvapriya Vihar where I live and he said 70 rupees. I responded with 40 he said no, I asked if he could do better and he repeated 70. I said no and walked away hoping that he would call for me to come back for a lower price. That's usually how I have been working it, but he didn't so I headed for the main road. I found another guy and he told me 60. I again said 40, telling him that is what I got here for. He said no. I asked 50 because at this point I was tired, it was dark and I had all my bags with me He told me to jump in.

It was all fine and dandy riding home until we started to get close to where I live. He was telling me that 50 rupees is a really good price. He said that is what he takes Indians home for, so the 60 that he was asking for was not a bad price for me. Here I am thinking that he is trying to show me his true colors and how he was a good man. One who is fair and isn't overcharging me just because the color of my skin, and then he starts talking more about the money and how I should give him 10 more rupees and it was a mistake to take me for the 50. I was not at my house but close enough, so I told him to pull over so I could walk the rest of the way. I handed him the 50 and got out. He counted it quickly, looked at me and rudely said, "really not 10 more, you were a mistake! A mistake! Ah, all the way for a mistake." This all happened quickly and I really think that in this guilty ridden head shake and eye contact he was thinking that this was going to make me give him more money. So I walked away mumbling "a mistake, what a jerk! I am not a mistake!"

I have a built in guilty conscious as it is. I am very literal and when I say I am going to be somewhere I am there and if I feel guilty it is usually for a good reason... because I let someone down or I could have done a better job. But here I am paying the pre-negotiated price, which is still over priced I am sure and he tries to make me feel bad. Boo on him.

I get so frustrated that people are trying to make me pay more, but in the grand scheme of things, what they are charging me is still so inexpensive that I can understand why they do it. But it is a pride thing. I feel that I should be charged the same amount as an Indian. There are some indians out there making just as much as I am these days. I also do know that a few cents or dollars from me can add up and make a significant difference in their lives. Knowing this if I find a driver who is willing to take me for less, I tend to give them an extra 5 or 10 rupees. I don't know why I do it, I guess I feel like I should positively reinforce the nice drivers and punish the rude ones. It was the same when I was swiping cards at the Terraces Dinning Hall in Ithaca. I held the power to let you by without a card on those rainy days when you left it at home, or make you turn home and get it while all of your buddies enjoyed their meals. It was the ones that knew that they should go back but were secretly hoping that you wouldn't make them that I let in and the better than thou who I rejected

I guess a few cents here and there doesn't make a huge difference and what it all comes down to is how much is the hassle worth. I am choosing my battles. If it is late and dark, raining, really hot, or I have a lot of stuff with me does it really matter if I am getting ripped off? This was only day two of taking a rickshaw to work so I will give you my answer in a few weeks. I still have many more bumpy rides in my future.

Even if you are a Celebrity you don't get a Deal

What a day! I tell you, just as I think I am getting used to things India throws something new at me. It's really exciting and humorous. This weekend I went sightseeing with Alison and the new flatmates. I was able to see a different part of Delhi. I nicer area, the more touristy - a Washington DC type place. Really. The India gate is kind of like the Mall in Washington DC. It is a long area that is lined with trees leading up to the Prime Ministers place. We drove all around with Alison's driver KK jumping in and out of the car and taking pictures. We then went to the Lotus Temple which is so beautiful! It is a Ba'hai temple that is formed into the shape of a lotus flower. Architecture genius! It is a place where all religions can pray and even though it is a major touristy site, most of the people there were Indian and they were coming to sit. The ushers do a great job at keeping the place silent as to not disturb the communication with God.

We next went to a mall. When Alison told me we were going to a mall, all I could think about was a bigger market, crazy and swarming with people, but surprisingly it was like a huge US mall. I felt like I was in the US, or at least in Europe. It was well lit, clean and just like any mall in America. The locals there dressed more western. I saw shorts and skirts above the knees, and then of course still very traditional saris. But a lot of t-shirts and jeans. I felt right at home. Ha! Consumerist America, and the stereotype continues :)

We went to eat at an Italian place at the mall. It was all Indians no foreigners and supposidly children are allowed to do anything that they want without discipline. They were yelling and running around the resturant and yelling across the room and yelling at the servers. It was insane. Then I thought back to my worst plane flight ever - on my way to the Roman Holiday Convention. Paul and Kaitlin know exactly what I am talking about. I thought I was super lucky because I was on the aisle of the center 4 seat rows so I popped a sleeping pill and passed out only to be awoken by a flight attendant moving an Indian woman and her screaming 2 year old right next to me. Frustrated, I let them in and fall back asleep. Moments later I wake up to the child whacking me on the arm and yelling. The girl continued to hit me and throw her food at me for a half an hour before I gave the mom a death stare that caused her switch seats with her daughter. The girl instantly started banging on the mans computer next to her. It continued like this switching the girl back and forth for the next 7 hours while everyone except for me slept as normal until we landed and the little brat passed out in time for her mom to carry her off the plane. I tell you, I love kids and I am patient, but I have never wanted to kick a little kid so much in my life. I am not a bad person, I was just over tired.

So after the mall and realizing that there are places that I can get the stuff that I need even if it wasn't too convenient I felt much better. I now know that they sell Pantene for when I run out. Funny thing about hair products. They have this thing called No-Fall Shampoo. I was asking about what this was because I kept seeing adds for it, and as it turns out the water is so polluted here that your hair falls out much easier. So this shampoo was to make your hair stronger or protected or something. I think I need to invest in some of that, or you may have a very bald friend coming home in a year.

After that long adventure I was pooped and finally felt like I could go to bed at a normal hour. I have been going to sleep after 1 and waking up at 7:30 each morning for work. After the long flight and not napping, I was all messed up and wanted to take advantage of the exhaustion.

Today I woke up early to go on a Heritage tour walk with Alison. This group has 5 walking tours in different parts of Delhi and you go around with a tour guide for 50 INR for a couple of hours and they teach you about the site. I had invited Joel from the plane and he meet us at the Lodi Gardens at 7 am. While we were waiting I was chewed to bits by the bugs. Chad - I forgot my bug spray, but after the 800 Marlia threatening bites this morning I bought some this afternoon. The tour was so interesting. We walked into all of these Temples and Mosques and we was teaching us about how people are buried in the Mosques with their heads north to south so that when they turn the head the person is buried always facing west toward Mecca. So cool. Also the western wall is always different from the rest by some little structure or a blocked up archway or something. A Mosque can be many things. Even just a wall built on the West side can be an outdoor mosque for people to pray. I am definitely going to do more of those tours. You find out more from locals than just reading the few plaques.

Next we met up with a friend of Alison's in Khan Markets. I have now been to a bunch and I am learning where has the best fruit and where I can find milk, veggies, and I found Kraft Mac and Cheese. It was so expensive to buy, but I had to! Sunil, the company driver came and picked us up, and then helped me move into MY NEW PLACE! I am so excited. This is my first night sleeping here! Whoooo!

I unpacked some things and then headed out to Delhi center to an old fortress with Alex to meet up with Saabria. She told us the address and said that it was going to be 60 rupees to get there. Of course the rickshas drivers see two blonde, pale, blue eyed people and they charge us double to three times as much. If you are a tourist and if you are as pale as we are and traveling in groups you have no chance. So 100 rupees later Alex and I finally reached Saabria only to be encounter with the next disadvantage...admission. The sign says Indians - 5 INR, Others - 100 INR. No arguing we pay and go in and this is when the craziness started happening...

When Alison and I went to the Lotus temple, I noticed that people weren't only staring, but there were also couples coming up to us and saying "Hi" and trying to have a conversation with us. On the way out we passed a line of school children that without hesitation each said hello until it all blended into one sing song celebration of the people who looked different. Luckily the kids were cute and I left feeling very flattered. When I met up with Alex and Saabria I was telling them all about this happening thinking it was a one off until the fort. I don't know what it was - maybe both me and Alex together. He is bleach blonde and paler than I am, but everyone wanted to take our picture or have us pose with their daughters. It wasn't just me. Guys would come up to Alex and ask for him to pose with them. They would shake his hand and then shoot a quick picture with their cell phones. I thought that is was funny, but then I started getting self conscious...do I really look that strange? Little girls riding by on motos would point and start until I was out of sight.

picture of Alex and I with a random Indian in the middle.

Laughing Saabria asked if we wanted to try this restaurant that she has been to that is known for their kebabs. We both agreed and started walking. She turns to us when we were almost to the street and said, "brace yourself because this might be kind of intense." We turn down a street that is in the Muslim section of town. The street is so crowded and it was definitley the poorest spot that I have seen so far. Tons of old beggars and little kids yelling and following you down the street. Again, everyone was staring even more than before and we were rubbing shoulders with everyone that we passed. It was so dirty and there were stray dogs and goats amongst all of the craziness (but that is normal of all of Delhi, not just this area). We turned into the restaurant and I walked it. Literally it was like out of a movie. Everyone in the restaurant stopped talking and looked at Alex and me until we sat down and things went back to normal. As we looked around no one had food and there was only one really stressed out disgruntled worker in the whole restaurant. Saabria speaking Hindi told us that we came at the time of prayer and all of the other servers and cooks were praying and would be back soon so he would take our order and we would be served when they returned.

It was actually quicker than we anticipated. Today was a total lesson in culture. She was teaching us that in this restaurant that we should eat with our hands. Alex and I were laughing as she taught us to scoop rice the right way in our fingers and how to use our thumbs to push it into our mouths. There was food all over. She then looked at us as we were digging in carnivorous style and then told us that we should only use on hand. Never our left. It is very rude to eat with your left because most Indian use their left hand to clean themselves. You should just leave that hand on your chair. She said that you should also never hand money to someone or shake hands with your left hand. Alex of course then asked…”so what if you are left handed?” You are screwed.

Alex and I tried to get an auto rickshaw home…$120 rupees. Saabria then got one for $60 INR so we hopped in and went home.

Green and Blue

Green and Blue, those are the colors of the walls in the EF building. I really like the building and the funny thing is that is where I feel the most comfortable and like at-home. I am starting to work on different trainings and projects and it is good to feel like I am not just waiting around. There was no real rush to get to work on Monday after I landed, but I thought that I should just throw myself into it instead of sitting around inside my room worrying about my first day. The funny thing is that I was really nervous to get dressed. I didn't want the other kids to make fun of me.

It is strange to be new again :) I was talking to a Kim and Eleacia at work before I left about a blog that we found where the guy referred to rise and repeat. I really liked the idea. It was referring to the fact that we are constantly moving through stages where we enter in not knowing anything about anything, then we get comfortable, confident, and then we rule, only to be moved to another stage where we are at the bottom of the food chain again. Take High School for instance. You enter in an awkward gangly teenager, okay maybe just me, and over time you find your grounding until you are a senior ruling the halls, only to be knocked down one more time when you enter college and have to start all over again, and this time without your parents. Just picture me...and awkward white girl who can't find her office and doesn't know where she is at any time. Okay, I am exaggerating - but you get my point. Even after completing my first week at work I am already feeling great! but mostly just exhausted.

I went shopping today in one of the markets and it was really nice. There was a fabric store there and I bought two pillow cases. Everything there is so beautiful and brightly colored. I wanted to get sheets and a light blanket for my bed, but I didn't take the measurements and didn't want to buy the wrong size. I don't know what India's return policies are. Anyway it gives me more time to decide between a hot pink and orange scheme - sounds gross, but it is really pretty; orange and yellow or yellow and green. Any votes? There were also these shoe stores and clothing stores. I am just so drawn to the bright colors that the women wear. I keep telling Alison that if she comes back in a year from now she is going to find me all dressed up in traditional neon clothes. I am going to have to make the girls in the office take me shopping. I can't wait!

So back to the office, I spent the first week adjusting to the office atmosphere, and meeting with all of the different teams. There are two teams. A north and a south, and each of those team are divided into two smaller teams with one person doing the Alpha position. Twelve in total. It is an open floor plan just like Boston and when everyone is talking - man it is loud. I like it the best when it is that way because it reminds me of home. It has been great so far and everyone has been really welcoming. There have been so many sweets and celebrations that I am stuffed before lunch comes around. It was one guy's birthday, one guy just had a baby and another one is getting married soon. Every time there is good news there are treats passed around by that person for the celebration.

Speaking of celebrations, before I left for India Rachel was telling me all about this Indian wedding that she is in the bridal party for and how they are so much fun and a week long celebration and if I can get invited to one while I am here that I should really try to...well it is week one and I have already been invited to a wedding. I know that I just fell into that, but man am I excited. For those of you whom the idea of inviting a stranger to your wedding is strange - I didn't get it at first either. I am quickly learning that you invite family, friends, colleagues and more. There are about 700-1000 people at the wedding all having a grand ole time and partying. I could be completely wrong, but that what I think I am going to at this point :) Looks like I will also get to wear that Sari that I bought for the holiday party one more time! Yes!

I Am Going To Be Helpless When I Get Home

I got a new apartment today! I met with two roommates today at a place that is close enough to potentially walk to work and at the least take an auto-rickshaw. I had to basically interview with the landlady after the two roommates decided that they wanted me to live with them, then "sign a lease." Which meant writing on a notebook that I wanted to live there. I will sign a real official lease in a month or two when it is drafted up. It was a little strange, but I think that she will also be responsible and fix anything that might break. I am going to be living with one Finnish guy who works at the Embassy and one Indian girl who lived in Boston for a year and went to Mt. Holyoke. Not too shabby. I really hope that we all get along, but the place is huge so we should have plenty of room and I am upstairs so if there are people over it should be relatively quite. Worse case scenario, I give my 2 month notice and I am a free woman.

The house is two floors, and there is also a part that is floor number 1.5. The kitchen overlooks the living room. There is a front balcony and my room and the other girl that lives upstairs with me both have our own private back decks off our rooms. We have a washing machine which is rare - most people just have a maid. Yes, I also have a maid and if we want we can hire a cook, still not decided on that. I am going to be moving into the apartment this weekend and I pick up my keys tomorrow.

So besides the maid and the cook and the driver, everyone comes to you. I spilled my coffee on my desk today...okay, I really dribbled it out of my mouth. No big tragedy and I didn't think any one saw. I was looking around for a napkin or something to clean and within literally less than a minute there was someone standing next to me handing me a paper towel.

Also, yesterday when someone was asking about my bank account I told them that I was going to go and open one in the afternoon. The accounting guy quickly told me that the bank would be coming to the office to set up my account and I shouldn't worry about going to lunch because he will come and just wait until I am around.

It is just a different world and I am learning quickly that when my TC's say that the customer is always right they mean it! They have to treat the customer like they are gods are we are so lucky that we have their service.

There will be more about the office and the job soon. Don't you worry.

Oh, and Julie - I have had curry two out of the three days so far :)