Home not even for one weekend

and I am escaping the heat and heading to the mountains. Dharamsala here I come!

Saabira, my roomie got into Grad School at NYU and she is going to be leaving me in May to head home to Bangalore before she moves to the States. Because of this we are finally holding each other accountable for all of the trips that we said that we were going to take, but never got around to. Congrats Saabs, and bring on the weekend trips!

It wasn't as Traumatic as I thought...

When my Taxi driver neared closer to the Delhi International Airport my heart started racing..."what if I have picked up some strange habit that I don't even realize, and all the kids at school make fun of me" I starting thinking... It had been seven months since I had been home, and I have been away for almost that long while I was in Australia, but AU and India are two different planets. The worst that can happen in Aussie world is that you call everyone 'Mate' become obsessed with Rugby, Aussie Rules and you become a master griller on the barbie. Can't say I would complain about that.

In India my non-verbal communication has completely altered. I have totally picked up the head bobble, confusing the heck out of people that I talk to, if I am not aware. My personal space bubble has become limited, I have been known to bump into people, not think it is strange and not apologize. I push through a crowd, I don't smile at strangers and I avoid eye contact when not communicating...unless I am starting...yeah, I do that now too. It is a very easy one to pick up. Everyone just watches everyone else. I knew that if I brought these things home to the US they would not be received well and I may offend strangers and my good friends alike.

As soon as I got home the questions were a firing away and often times people asked me the one question that I asked myself constantly...is it strange to be home...and the answer was simple. No. It was nice. It was pleasant, quiet, relaxing and I really enjoyed seeing everyone. I think that India and the US are on such completely different sides of the spectrum in almost every way, that I was able to compartmentalize the two worlds and have a Quinnen in each of them. From my limited perspective, friends, you can disagree, but I felt like I fit right back into things with ease.

Little things that I noticed and thought were funny:

• I couldn't wait to eat a normal American breakfast, with eggs, french toast, hash browns, bacon, and when I did, I couldn't stop.
• A girl smiled at me and I panicked, until I realized that the proper thing to do was not just stare and walk by, but smile back. I started thinking that Westerns smile a lot.
• When someone's coffee lid fell on the ground I was shocked that she picked it up.
• I had to remember to put my seatbelt on. I am used to sitting in the back and cars not having them.
• I was excited to wear a dress that showed my knees.
• I was appalled at what the young girls were wearing and constantly shocked by how short skirts were and how low women shirts were.
• I found myself putting pepper on EVERYTHING and I couldn't wait to eat Indian food.
• I saw a man standing against a wall with his back to me and I assumed he was peeing in public.

Overall I had an amazing time at the wedding, loved catching up with friends, hanging with my fam, eating delicious food for restaurant week and I have all of you to thank for that! I can't wait to see you again in June.

"Welcome Home" said India

sarcastically as it smacked me in the face with 100 degree weather and laughed.

Thanks for Sharing Todd!

http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2010/03/holi_2010.html

Thanks for sharing Todd!

Playing Holi

Whenever your day consists of:

• Squirt Guns filled with bright staining color
• Water Balloon ambushes by strangers
• Watching people roll up their car windows as they approach you running down the streets towards them
• Dumping bags of colors on little children
• Using a rickshaw as a get-away/attack vehicle
• Riding in an open back truck filled with people and extra ammo
• Parties with free food, beer, buckets of water, and color
• Farm houses with DJs and crazy colored people
• Getting stuck at said farm house because your ride got pushed into a purple pool with his keys.

You know you are in for an amazing time!

I have been waiting to celebrate this day since I first heard about it from Chad a few years back and needless to say, I was not let down. The day started the night before where I bought a new outfit just to be destroyed the next day. Basically I had been told, more cautioned to be careful when walking outside because if you look clean - you will be attacked, you will be hit. You will be colored and you will be soaked. That is just the way it is. I took those words carefully and made sure to be the aggressor and douse those around me before I could get colored (in a non-violent country I think I was a hit...).

When my alarm went off at 7:00 am. I woke up, dressed, started to think about how I was going to brave the outdoors and get to the Saket Mall where Annabelle's hotel was. Luckily Satya called me and offered to have his taxi pick me up. I ran out the door and straight into the back seat locking eyes with three young men on my road who I could tell were upset that they missed a great chance to hit an unsuspecting target.

We drove away surprised that the rukus had not yet started, ate breakfast and then filled the squirt guns with bright pink and purple colors. We ran the streets sprinting and squirting each other as the guards watched and ran away from us. Cars would roll up their windows as they passed us and we chased a few strangers around the corners. Realizing that nothing was happening in our area we hailed a rickshaw and took the fun on the road.

We slowly approached three hooligans on the left and we knew that we were in for trouble. I started to pump the pressure guage on my gun to prepare for the drive-by when the driver stopped in front of them. We all paused momentarily when the kids started launching water balloons at us. "Challo! Challo!" we screamed and the driver took off. He totally betrayed us, but we were all laughing and having fun along the way. We got dropped at the office where we reloaded and attacked a few more people around as I waited for my ride to come.

Christine pulls up with her friend Abhishek in his car fully lined with sheets, a gun and a bucket of balloons in the back...seriously seasoned veteran. Along the way to his friend's house he preps us that this guy is a huge lover of Holi and by the time that we leave the house you won't be able to see any of our skin. I though he was joking...

3 buckets of water over the head, 25 people at the house, and tons of sented green and orange powder in my mouth - later, the truck arrived. You know the ones that I am talking about...the big U-haul minus the sides and just an open exposed frame for you to hold on to. Highly illegal in the states, but in the land of crazy traffic and no rules we all piled in handing each other super soakers and buckets of balloons.

Where were we going? Did it even matter, it's not the destination that counts. We launched our supplies at everyone and anything that passed us: open windows of cars, people on motorbikes, and of course the HOLI Cows!

When the truck stopped we hopped out at someone's house. I watched as people were being checked off the guest list and I started to get nervous that I wasn't going to make it in being a tag-a-long and all. I heard someone yell, "we're from the truck!" The doors opened and I was in an oaisis of Holi. It was someone's backyard transformed into a playing field. There was an open bar on one side, cooks preparing food on the other and in the middle bowls full of color, buckets of water to shoot at people and a DJ and stage!

I couldn't believe it. We ran around like idiots for about 3 hours. I was drenched to the core with all of my color fading into a dark green-black when someone decided it was time to roll out. The group was herded back into the truck and we headed out to a Farm Party. Again, when I walk into this amazing yard - it was transformed into a wonderland with a bar, and pool and DJ. You couldn't tell what anyone looked like and everyone was bright pink, yellow, green, purple and smiling. Even though it is a city of 12 million people, and I originally only knew one person that I started my day with most my friends in Delhi ended up at this place and we danced the night away.

I loved Holi, I wish that it was celebrated in the states, but knowing us...we would just make it violent and people would get hurt. It was one of those times where you really understand the true being of India. Where everyone puts the community before themselves just to keep the peace. We hit so many strangers in the heads with water balloons and I got hit many times too on my way to work. You are not always happy but you shrug it off and laugh and go one with your life. It was just a great day, and a great environment.

Happy Holi!

Pre-Stepping Outside

At the end of the night...

Temporary

The life of an expat is so temporary...you know that you are not going to be here for long, your friends are constantly leaving and changing, you focuses adapt and you constantly have to decided who and what is worth your time in a world where everything is new and needs to be explored.

When I first moved to Delhi everyone told me that no one stays here long. They are stationed here for work. Most of the people who I have met who are not here for NGO work don't ever quite seem to leave their comfort bubble and don't really let India in. It is not an easy place. This means that there is a disconnect and a desire to finish your time and move on.

As a fresher, one of the first questions that I was asked was, "How long are you here for?" Within the seconds that it takes to answer the question, your audience has decided whether or not you are worth their investment. It sounds sad, but it is true. There is no point spending the time and energy getting to know someone new who is going to be leaving in a month.

Now that the summer is coming and the heat is starting to role in, those who have half of a brain and no contract holding them here are heading home, and shipping out. I hear the summers are miserable and you band together inside ACed rooms to survive. My roommate Alex left for Thailand last week and I miss him incredibly. Now Alison, the other rock in my Indian life is flying out tonight. Nadia, a new girl from France is my new housemate and although she is old to the city she is new to me. The dynamics change once again...

Old DelhiBycycle

Annabelle was visiting from the Boston office and one of my favorite things to do is to play tour guide and take everyone into what I consider the heart of the city...Old Delhi...with the winding narrow pathways, goats, markets, spices and people everywhere.

I have been seriously missing my bike and I came across this company called DelhiBycycle where they lead bike tours through the city. Annabelle being a great sport said that she would come along. We were weaving in and out of traffic, there were people and cows and rickshaws all around. We went through the flower market and down the streets, but unfortunately because of the Holiday most of the shops were closed.

Even though I have been in Delhi now for 6 months and things on the new side of the city have stopped seeming strange, Old Delhi can still throw out surprises every now and then. At one point Jack our guide turned to me and said, "now we head into the meat bazaar." Okay I thought, brace yourself for a reinforcement of why you only eat Veg. in India. Being on the road you become super aware of all that is around you. To protect yourself from vehicles that may be trying to pass or cut you off your peripheral becomes heightened. I was going straight thinking that I haven't seen anything bad yet and that the streets were strangely uncrowded when I see something red and bopping coming up behind me. It was a man...running with the biggest, bloodiest hunk of flesh completely covering his upper body and resting on his head. His navy blue jacket was drenched and stained and I watched as he sprinted the carcass up the road and chuck it onto a completely unprotected van seat. I started looking in the windows of the vehicles that we were passing only to see repeats of these disgustingly fresh cavities. Running man after running man I tried to avoid them from brushing by me. I looked down to see that the puddles were actually pools of blood. We continued to ride only to see giant carts of goat heads, and next to it another one for the hooves. After this long in India few things bother me anymore. But with this I was officially grossed out enough so that I won't be eating meant anytime soon.

The ride was great. We had a chai break and saw parts of the city that you can only see when with a local. After 6 years, Jack was pretty comfortable with the route. I asked how long that they have been running the tours and I may have asked one too many questions because by the end I had been offered a job as an Old Delhi Bike Guide. Very tempting, and still not 100% decided no, but it would be a lot of early mornings and annoying people who don't know how to ride in traffic. I think that the 80 million heart attacks that I would receive from trying to maneuver unskilled riders through some of the worst traffic in Delhi might be more detrimental to my health than the benefits from all of the cycling.

The Golden Passport

The biggest issue starting a travel company in India is that you have to not only sell your customer a tour that they are excited about, but then you have to figure out how the heck you are going to get them on a plane and out of the country. It is not very easy/very difficult for an Indian an American Visa and there is a lot of paperwork involved with all of the other countries.

This week I went to Chennai to meet with the first school group who was going to try and get their Visas from this consulate. With my American passport I was able to get security clearance and meet with the Chief Minister, only to stand outside for 5 hours and support the group after they learned that they were rejected. I had a glass of wine after that day.

I am learning quickly that if you have an American passport do not take it for granted. They can get you into many countries Visa and hassle free. For example: If India had something like Travelzoo's weekly last minute deals and there was an amazing opportunity to go to the US, and you were an Indian citizen who wanted to go, and you had the money to afford to go, you probably wouldn't be able to. Firstly, you probably wouldn't get the visa interview appointment in time. Secondly, you would have to be able to show that you have enough money in your bank account to prove that you will return from said trip. Lastly, even if you did get an appointment, and your documentation was perfect, there is a good chance depending on the consulate/embassy/counter/mood of the Visa officer that you would be rejected. What a strange concept that you cannot just hop on a plane and go on a vacation when you want to.

We Americans have it very easy!

Just a few from my most recent trip to Old Delhi

Totally American

I was staring at my closet I grabbed at comfortable day off clothes. Knowing that I was going for a walk and a coffee shop I grabbed my huge book and my backpack...normal right, well it is if you are American. Here no one older than 5 uses a backpack and wearing one screams "I'm not from here."

As I was bounding down the stairs I yell to my flatmate, "Alex, should I wear my backpack? If I do, everyone is going to REALLY know that I am not Indian!" Don't worry, I said this sarcastically as I recognized my ponytail and looked down at my running shoes and sweatshirt.

I left the house feeling overly Patriotic and knowing that no one was going to ask if I was Russian or German that day.

I Have to Belong to a Man

I finally got my PAN card this week. This little card ensures my residency and saves me 100 rupees($2) to tourist sites in Delhi while only asking that in return I pay taxes...that's fair, right? It was supposed to be a 3 week process that lasted 5 months and after the 3rd rejection was what I suspect, pushed along with a healthy reward. On this card it has my squished Smirf-like picture, some holigrams, my full name, and then my Father's full name.

Interesting...On all of my formal documents, registration, lease, bank enrollment they all ask, "name of your father."

Alison and I were discussing this at work and then she calls over Mohit for some clarification:

"So, Mohit, what happens in the case that there is no father...I mean, what if a woman gets pregnant and there is no father, what do you put on the application?"

"What do you mean there is no father? That doesn't happen in India. You either put your father or husbands name."

"Okay, well what if you are not married and you don't have a husband?"

"Like if your father passed away? You would just put N/A or late."

"Well, let me put it this way, your wife has to put your name on her information correct? Saying she belongs to you?"

"Yes"

"Do you have to put your wife's name saying you belong to her?

"No, I would put my father."

"Okay, so she has to belong to you but you don't belong to her...Do I have to belong to a man"

Very definitely..."Yes."

Okay.

So it's just another one of those things that I don't quite get, but I go along with to make life easier. Hopefully some of these older patriarchal rules will diminish with time and eventually men will have to belong to their women as well.

Post from Shantaram

I am on page 388 of my book and I am not even half way through. It is amazing so far and I recommend it to everyone. Currently my Mom and Dad, Jeff, Jeff's Dad, and I are all reading it. I hope that they are enjoying it as much as I am! I also hope that the rumors are true and that Johnny Depp is going to play Lin in the Movie. We will have to wait and see!

I couldn't have found p275 more true:

"A German cab driver might be pleased that a foreigner had learned to speak German. He might even say that he was pleased. Or say nothing at all. The same might be true of a French cab driver, or an American, or an Australian. But and Indian will be so pleased that if he likes something else about you -- your eyes, or your smile, or the way you react to a beggar at the window of his cab --he'll feel bonded to you instantly. He'll be prepared to do things for you, go out of his way, put himself at risk, and even do dangerous or illegal things. If you've given him an address he doesn't like, such as the Palace, he'll be prepared to wait for you, just to be sure that your safe. You could come out an hour later, and ignore him completely, and he would smile and drive away, happy to know that no harm has come to you."

This is something that is special about India. If you make someone happy and show them that you are trying to learn and understand their culture it will take you a long way. Because I asked the price of the ride in Hindi, the price was lower and he smiled the whole way home. I asked him to stop at the subzi wala so I could get some veggies on the way home, and he waited until I was finished, pulled a U turn so I didn't have to walk more than 2 feet with my bags, U turned again and took me home. I have had many people stop and wait, or ensure that I get to the place that I need to go by asking for directions 30 times on the way. The service in India is incomparable to anything else I have ever experienced.

Hinglish

There is something endearing to the broken Hinglish that I speak to my maid. She once told my landlady and my roommate that I confuse here, but I think we are working through that. Seeing as I am usually the only person home when she comes to cook, I have learned all my veggies and numbers enough to say that I would like bhindi and chaar roti for dinner.

I love the way that she gets disappointed and scolds me when I put my water bottles in the fridge because she believes that cold water will make me sick. I also love that when food has gone off she shakes her hand, and then her head while gesturing to the trash and saying, "no, crap-o." I want to ask her where she learned that word.

This Is India

The longer that I live here, the more I have come to love a saying commonly used among locals and expats equally, "This Is India" It is used to express, the love/hate experiences occur on a daily basis, well knowing that if you were anywhere else in the world you would not be dealing with, that you just have to shake your head at and laugh.

I spent the day today doing the laundry and cleaning my room. I washed my sheets, hung them out to dry, a pigeon shat on them - I am currently washing them for a second time... This is India.

Love/Hate

The more you read about it and the more time you spend here you learn that what is written about India is nothing but true. It is a powerful and grand place filled with contradictions that will leave you conflicted and confused.

I came across this quick read that goes out to my Parents since they will be the next brave souls to venture west. I especially like how it ends with the commonly understood love/hate relationship. I don't know anyone who really has just said I love India without being followed by a but...

Even myself. I love India. I do...buuuuuuut...

http://goindia.about.com/od/planningyourtrip/qt/indiaarriving.htm

2010: A New Decade

There are few ways to go about the New Years Resolution. There's the good ol' 'I am going to change my life around this year... grand promenade, open a new savings account, buy a new organizer, running sneakers, go to a jazzercise class once...and then never again. There's the silent keep-to-yourself planners who commit to a set of goals, power through and see what they can accomplish. Then there are those in the middle of the spectrum where I seem to be. I feel the need to tell people what my new hopes and dreams are for the new year, knowing that I am motivated by the fright of failing to accomplish that which I have made public.

This mindset could also be the same reason why I have somehow found my way to India. Julie Keech - if you still have the one and only copy of my 10 year plan that I snail mailed to Japan almost 4 years ago, I would love to see it...

So here it is folks, it's not too grand but it is a start

Quinnen's 2010 Resolutions:

Take Hindi Lessons and become conversational before leave India

Don't let comfort or discomfort stop me from exploring all the options that Delhi has to offer

Dance more often and maybe join a Class

Read more, Watch fewer Movies

The Abnormal is Normal

I received 2 Christmas cards today at my office one from Stacy and one from Mr. and Mrs. Spencer. Mrs Spence, mentioning that you have enjoyed reading my posts sparked the guilt of blog abandonment that I have needed over the last month to overcome the uncreative mental block that I have been feeling recently. So this one if for you!

Last week I bought my first plane ticket to come home in March for Jeff's cousin's wedding. I am super excited to go home and be around friends, family and to get a break from Delhi. But as soon as my finger hit the confirm button another feeling that I wasn't expecting also came along...anxiety. I think that part of the reason that I have not been posting as much is because the abnormal is now normal.

It really hit me when I have had a slew of visitors in the last month. Erin G came down from Nepal and stayed the weekend, Martin was here from Bangalore and Ricky our new finance guy came in from the Canada office. I took Erin and Ricky to Old Delhi and was in no way phased by the swarms of people, I haggled right back with the rickshaw driver and realized that I had lost my slight awkwardness of navigating around a new city. Don't get me wrong, there is still a lot that I don't know about Delhi, but I think that I am finally developing my 'I belong' confident swagger that keeps locals from messing with you.

I say developing, because with India -- as soon as you get too cocky, it will chew you up and spit you out right back to the place that you belong.

When thinking about something such as identity it is always interesting to pay close attention to the semantics of your dialogue. For instance, I was meeting with Ricky talking about Indians in general, and said, "yeah, we..." immediately I paused, looked in my mental mirror and said...yup, still totally American, I should not be using the 'w' word yet.

With this change in perspective you can start to understand why I am a little nervous to come home. Have I picked up some really strange habits that I don't notice? I have already been called out on the fact that the infamous head wobble is working its way into my repertoire. What is the head-wobble you ask? Just wait for that post I am waiting for a good time to launch it.

When I come back, if we happen to run into each other, please keep in mind that I have been in a very different place. If I happen to push you, cut in line, spit or snot rocket in front of you, drive like a maniac (please keep me away from the driver seat), or stand too close; just know that in due time I will adjust back to the American social mores so don't be too harsh.

Christmas in India

Christmas in India is tough unless you are in Goa. Even though my office and friends are very understanding and sweet, there is something that cannot be expalined about how Christmas in New England is just -- in the air. An energy, the excitement, the jolly spirits, the giving and the carols.

I tried my best. I woke up normal time, went to work wearing a christmas hat with flashing lights, handed out stocking and danced to Christmas music. But laughing with your family and friends around you in your comfortable warm house with snow falling outside, lights all around and spicy aromas of warm apple/pecan/pumpkin pie filling the air can never be replaced.

I hope that everyone had an amazing Holiday weekend and know that I was thinking about all of you! Thanks for the Christmas cards and wishes!

Why I love my Flatmate

“Alex, do you have any Toilet Paper? Saabs and I ran out?”

“Yeah, here you go. Communist Toilet Paper, it is like wiping with newspaper.” “Have fun!”

a few minutes later…

While in the Kitchen waiting for my tea to boil Alex asked me, “will you sing a song?”

I busted out in ‘Oh when the Saints,’ because it has been in my head for the last few hours and for the dramatics I started doing an altered running man marching dance while he continued to cook his chicken-salami and laugh.

He said, “If I move to America, I hope that all Americans are like you.” I said, “Why so you can have songs and dance on cue?” He goes, “yeah, and when I return back to Finland and my friends ask me what are Americans like, are they like how they are in the movies…I am going to say yes!”

“What does that mean…”

“Don’t worry, it’s a good thing.”

“Ok, I am going to go back upstairs with my communist Toilet Paper and my Tea...Oh when the Saints…”

Always Tripping

I am one giant mass constantly off balance with no control or say in the matter. I could attribute this to a few factors. Such as my theory that I have a messed up equilibrium or perception due to my one near-sighted eye and one far-sighted eye. I don't know if it is my learned confident walk that makes me look ahead and not down; or that at times I am just too lazy to lift my feet over impending objects. Mostly I blame it on the unfinished roads, gaping holes in the sidewalks, loose gravel, gross spills, animals, and traffic that you have to avoid that makes me unable to keep my face from plummeting downward.

Battle wounds:

Deep fist sized bruise on my butt from falling down a flight of stairs at my house

Lost toe nail - Right foot, second toe next to my big one...

...and the most recent one happened while trying to take a picture at sunset. I was looking through my camera when I stepped off a curb, my flip flop tucked under itself and I scraped off the bottom of one of my toes.

and now you know why I rave so much about my toe protecting, amazing grip Keen shoes - I should wear them more often.