Transformations

Aside from the internal transformations we are constantly undergoing here in India, it seems we've sustained some external transformations as well.  As one Fulbright researcher we met in Mussoorie predicted, it does appear that we've become a little less "healthy" - and a bit more modest.

Fulbright Pre-Departure Orientation in Washington, D.C.

June 2011

 Fulbright South & Central Asia ETA Conference in Colombo, Sri Lanka

12-17 December 2011

...and I would be wearing the same shirt and scarf in both.

Battling Bureaucracy (this time, in school)

According to the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, my personality type is shared by approximately 1% of the population, making it one of the rarest types.  Myers-Briggs (also called the Jung Typology Test) identifies 16 personality types in total.  I and others like me tend to "regard problems as opportunities to design and implement creative solutions" and are "driven to resolve differences in a cooperative and creative manner."  Perhaps it is these qualities which are manifesting themselves right now in the school where I have been placed.

Since I am the first ETA to be placed in this particular school, I envision myself as pioneering the way for future ETAs.  But even more than this, I really want to do what I was chosen to do--to "assist in teaching conversational English and some composition to middle and high school students."  After all, this was why I wanted to participate in this specific program in the first place.

However, it turns out that, prior to arriving in our schools, our roles may not have been clearly communicated--either to the schools, or to us ETAs, or to both.

One point does seem to have been communicated clearly (at least in my school):  ETAs are to be paired with a regular classroom teacher.  However, the interpretation of this point is where confusion arises.  What does it mean to be "paired with a teacher"?  It seems to me that one thing was especially not understood clearly, and that is the difference between teaching assistant, and teacher's assistant.

Also included in this confusion is whether or not ETAs are supposed to be teaching curriculum.  We ETAs were explicitly told at the beginning of the program that our purpose is to teach spoken English.  But we were recently told by someone else that our schools were told that we should be teaching curriculum, since the students last year didn't take non-curriculum classes seriously enough.  (Ironically, I have found the exact opposite to be true.)  It is obvious that something has been miscommunicated.  It's just not clear what.

It is a sad fact that most students can make it through a full 12 years of government school without ever creating a sentence of their own in English.  All of the ETAs have noticed that their respective government schools rely heavily on memorization as opposed to actual learning.  So the whole purpose of offering spoken English classes is to give students exposure to the English language as it sounds in everyday conversation, as well as to allow them to try their hand at creating meaning in the language for themselves.  And for many of them, this would be the first opportunity they would have to do so.

Till now I have been working with three different English teachers--one each from Class (Grade) 6, 7, and 8.  In the beginning I was having the opposite problem as the other ETAs, many of whom had been given their own classes, in that I was hardly getting any teaching time.  And the time I was given was given only at the last minute:  Ashley, you would like to take some activity?  Well, no, not really.  Not when there are only five minutes remaining and the students' brains have already checked out.

So I proposed the idea of taking separate classes for Spoken English.  I began with a trial run of two small groups from Class 8.  One group of girls, and one group of boys.  We met once a week for about one month before I recently proposed doing this on a much larger scale.  I had seen huge strides in both small groups from Class 8.  The kids were interested, excited about our class, and the girls especially started participating more during the regular class periods.  So I proposed--politely, albeit with conviction--to my three cooperating teachers that I discontinue my regularly assigned curriculum classes and take small groups of approximately 10 students each for Spoken English during the students' free periods instead.

Now.  Such radical ideas as this one are not easily received or accepted in a country and/or school system which function largely on a system of hierarchy and bureaucracy.  Especially when the one proposing such a radical change is just a foreign peon like me.

Still, I took the pains of drafting a schedule that would make the implementation of my radicalism possible.  Two of my three teachers agreed to release me from their curriculum classes so that I could be available for Spoken English.  The third teacher is the wife of a government official of Delhi, so no one dared challenge her refusal to release me from her evil grip.  (She's really a lovely lady, but this just drives me up a wall.)  When I took it upon myself to appeal my position to her, she politely informed me that, as she was currently tied up with teaching Class 10 and other activities, she could not let me go on account of those occasions when she would be unable to make it to class.  In other words, she wanted to keep me as her own personal on-call substitute (aka arrangement).

She neglected to mention her fondness of having me write questions and answers on the board after the completion of each chapter, which the students then copy directly into their appropriately named copies (notebooks).  Which, I need not mention, involves absolutely zero interaction or spoken English whatsoever.

Anyway, now I'm just barfing up my frustrations.  But this is a large part of my wanting to take Spoken English classes on my own.  Not to mention that it would be completely feasible:  Since my school is currently without a librarian, all Library periods are free.  And since the Work Experience teacher also works in the school office, he is too busy to actually teach WEx, so those are free periods too.

So I completed  draft schedule, which still included all of my regularly scheduled classes with the third teacher.  After all, you have to pick and choose your battles, especially when the battlefield is in a foreign country.  I showed the schedule to my coordinating teacher who, though not without some hesitation, agreed to approach the principal with with me.  Surprisingly, despite her initial refusal to make any changes to the time table, the principal had little problem approving my proposed schedule the second time around.  Maybe it was because I had given her some candies and a small American flag in celebration of International Education Week earlier that day.  Nevertheless, it was a victory!

But that was on Friday.

On Monday I tried to present a copy of the newly approved schedule to my coordinating teacher, who now refused to accept it, and will not accept it until I check with the computer teacher that my proposed (and recently approved) schedule does not clash with the periods assigned to the training teachers (student teachers) who are in our schools till December.

When computer ma'am requested my new schedule from my coordinating teacher, she refused to give it to her--three times!  Of course she did.  How could she give a copy of the schedule when she would not accept it from me?!  This is one of the many examples of bureaucracy and hierarchy in India.  When I relayed the situation to computer ma'am, I suggested that I could just give the schedule to her directly.  But, remaining true to the tradition of jumping through unnecessary hoops, she said she would try to get it from my coordinating teacher first.  By the end of the day she took the schedule straight from me anyway.

Well, folks, here's how this part of the story ends.  For now I shall continue going to all of my regularly scheduled classes, sitting quietly or writing on the board as I am required to do so.  But, as long as students keep coming to me and asking for Spoken English classes, you can bet I'm not going to turn them away.  If you build a good rapport with students, those who genuinely want to learn English will come--despite what any official schedule or institution says.  After all, aren't these the students we aim to be teaching in the first place?

Some may say that I am wasting my time and energy in this battle against the system.  And maybe there is some truth to this.  But one thing is for certain:  I'm not giving up easily.

Reminders of Home

It's random things, like these bumper stickers, that remind me of home.

To Hire a Maid, or Not to Hire a Maid

"The first thing I noticed about Bombay, on that first day, was the smell of the different air.  ...  I know now that it's the sweet, sweating smell of hope, which is the opposite of hate; and it's the sour, stifled smell of greed, which is the opposite of love.  It's the smell of gods, demons, empires, and civilisations in resurrection and decay.  It's the blue skin-smell of the sea ... and the blood-metal smell of machines.  It smells of the stir and sleep and waste of sixty million animals, more than half of them humans and rats.  It smells of heartbreak, and the struggle to live, and of the crucal failures and loves that produce our courage.  It smells of ten thousand restaurants, five thousand temples, shrines, churches, and mosques, and of a hundred bazaars devoted exclusively to perfumes, spices, incense, and freshly cut flowers.  Karla once called it the worst good smell in the world, and she was right...."  --from Shantaram, by Gregory David Roberts (2003)

My first taste of India as a Fulbright scholar, after that initial oppressive curtain of heat and all those distinct smells, was the five-star Taj Mahal Hotel, complete with more attendants and assistants than a queen should require in her entire royal life.

There was one to open the door of your vehicle, one to put your bags through the security scanner, another one to hand them back to you.  Inside, one to open the entrance door.  And another for the second.  One to press the "up" button on the elevator.  One to bring your luggage to your room.  One to make your bed in the morning, to put a dust cover on in the afternoon, to take it off again and turn down the sheets at night.

One of the bahut sundar (very beautiful) flower arrangements at the Taj Mahal Hotel, New Delhi.

The place was magnificent, the enormous flower arrangements, the marble floors and fountains overwhelmingly grand.  We were welcomed with leis of fresh flowers and freshly-squeezed watermelon juice.  The scent of Jasmine permeated the crisp air.

It was a foil to the India waiting outside.  And while some might very well relish the excellent service, for me it was all a little overwhelming.  From our hotel room we had a bird's eye view of the meticulously kept garden and pool below - they were also buzzing with attendants sweeping the paths and trimming the shrubbery, cleaning the pool and folding beach towels.  Daily.  All day long.

The view from Joanna's and my hotel room.

 And so began an inner conflict that would continue to build force throughout my stay in India.  On the one hand, hiring so many workers seems superfluous and oftentimes menial.  After all, do guests really require someone to press the elevator button for them?  On the other hand, all of these workers are employed, working in a beautiful, air-conditioned facility, and are supporting their families.  I understand both sides of this contradiction, but how can I make peace with them?

It wasn't until this trip to India that I realized how much I pride myself on being a self-sufficient American, capable of everything from laundry to cleaning to cooking, for myself. But here in India, in my own apartment, I have seriously considered hiring a maid.  Actually, we have already hired one lady to clean our small front porch and the stairs leading up to our third floor apartment, as per our landlord's requirement to keep them clean.  And even that decision, while not quite as difficult, was one that came with some hesitation.

But our house is our home, and having someone come inside to take care of what, in my opinion, we should be able to do, is a back-and-forth battle I often have in my mind, and sometimes with my husband. As Stephanie put it, "Cleaning in India is different.  It's a different kind of cleaning."  By which she means, and is correct, that if you want to be able to walk barefoot in your own house,  you must clean every day without fail.

There are other things that I had not taken into consideration when I long ago decided that I would never have a bigger house than I could take care of by myself.  (Of course, I never imagined that a two-bedroom apartment would be too much to take care of, either.)  There were some unmentioned assumptions in there that I can no longer take for granted.  Things like a washing machine.  A gallon of milk that would last for an entire week in the fridge.  Fruits and vegetables that would do the same.

But that is very different than the life I am currently living.  Currently we buy milk at least every other day because keeping it any longer would cause it to spoil.  Other things that take time and energy:  having to boil milk before consuming it.  Making yogurt every day (which I thoroughly enjoy, but which still takes time).  Filling the water tank between 5 and 7 each morning, or 4-6 each night (this is done merely by flipping the switch for the water pump, but then we have to look up o our roof to make sure it's not overflowing since our landlord has, for some reason, not fixed the water level meter, which prevents the tank from overfilling and overflowing into the street in front of someone else's house).

Then there is the cleaning, which I typically enjoy doing.  The problem is not so much the cleaning as the frequency and kind of cleaning.  Delhi is really dusty.  And marble floors don't disguise dirt and dust and hair nearly as well as carpet. 

We have designated Saturdays to be our cleaning days, which consist mainly of cleaning our marble floors - another thing I had to learn.  (We do this by sprinkling a teensy-weensy bit of soap powder all over the floor and flooding it with water, then using a squeegee to chase out the first round of water and most of the dirt, then flooding it again and squeegeeing more meticulously to get the remainder of the dirt.)

In and of itself it's really not that bad, but once again arises the issue of time.  We've got the cleaning of all of the floors and both bathrooms down to about 2 hours.

All of these things are compounded by the heat.  Oh, and everything has to be cooked on the stove because we, and most middle-class Indians, do not have an oven.  So cooking each evening takes approximately 2 hours.  And there's no microwave to reheat leftovers for lunch the next day - that has to be done on the stove as well.

I usually wait till Saturday or Sunday to wash clothes, by hand.  By the time all the housework is finished there is virtually no time to relax.  Hard to believe the rest of the teachers work six days a week.  (Thank you, America, for keeping it to five!)  But seriously, there is hardly time to read for pleasure, to run or exercise, to blog, or go exploring.  Even our infrequent "vacations" sometimes seem like work.  Simply, even living simply in India requires a lot of energy.

The days of utter exhaustion are the ones that cause me to fall victim to that ongoing conflict of whether or not to hire a maid.  All of the teachers at school have one, and they've even told me to tell my husband that I need one.  But I still don't know if I actually want one.  Then again, I would also be helping someone - a wife, mother, or grandmother - earn an income for her family.  I would be supporting the local economy.  Or would I be exploiting them by paying what little wages they require?  I could offer to pay them more, but neither does this come without problems.  Paying someone above the expected amount can cause disequilibrium for the others, so to pay more could actually worsen the system.

Oh, India.  Your endless supply of contradictions astounds me.

In short, I still haven't reached a conclusion.  And I won't be surprised if this back-and-forth battle continues till the end of my grant period.  I was relieved to find out that three of the ETAs in Kolkata have also chosen not to hire a maid.  All the other ETAs have one.  But they are experiencing similar ambivalent feelings.  Julie reminded me that our language classes and English Language Training classes, also consume a significant portion of our time - up to 4-6 hours per week, in addition to 6.5 hour school days.  Oy vey!

Oh look, time to make lunch!
 

"The Namesake" by Jhumpa Lahiri

Just finished reading this novel, packed with tons of American and Indian cultural references with which I can identify.  I highly recommend this to anyone curious about India, but especially those familiar with both India and the U.S.  Looking forward to the seeing the movie, but prepared for it to be a disappointment after reading the book, as usual.

FRRO Made Easier

Our group was fortunate to not encounter too much red tape at the FRRO.  And when I went back the second time, to update my place of residence after settling on an apartment, I was in and out in less than one hour.

But it gets even better.  Beginning from the first week of August 2011 onward, registration and visa extension forms will only be accepted online for the Delhi FRRO Office, which should make the process less stressful yet.  (However, you may still have to physically go to the office if your residential address changes - not sure about that one.)

For more information, see the Indian Bureau of Immigration's website.

HEADLINE: Panic as midnight tremor rattles Delhi

Read full (brief) article in The Hindu here

I survived my first (and hopefully only) earthquake!  A 4.2 on the Richter scale.  My husband had just returned home from Aligarh and we sat down to eat around 11:30 PM last night.  We felt a little rumbling, and heard what sounded like a nearby train, and I grabbed my husband's hand as I had no idea what was going on.

Outside, people were fleeing there houses as if they were participating in a school fire drill.  We, perhaps unwisely, stood on our front porch and watched from the third floor.  Fortunately for us, it only lasted some seconds.  Perhaps next time though, we should consider exiting our apartment, just to be safe.

To give you some idea of the personalities I work with at school...  Some of the teachers, one old enough to be my grandmother, reasoned that my husband was the cause of the earth's tremors: "Your husband is home now?  Oh!  That's why there was an earthquake around midnight!"

HEADLINE: 11 killed as blast rocks Delhi High Court complex

Read full article from The Hindu here

A sad situation in India, to be sure.  And an unpleasant reminder that, ten years after the horrific events of September 11th, the human race still has much to improve upon.

Fortunately, despite living less than twenty minutes from the site of the blast, we haven't really noticed any changes in daily life, save for the enhanced security in the metro.

Back with a Vengeance!

It has been exactly one month since I last posted, which should give some idea of how crazy, tragic, sometimes almost magic this awfully beautiful life has been.  (That song reference was partially for my sister, if she ever gets around to reading this.)

But I'm back now, and I hope to start blogging again with a vengeance.  Watch out!

Perhaps our biggest accomplishment in the past month is that we have finally settled into our apartment.  It is a little bigger (2 bedroom, 2 bath, kitchen, dining room) and costs a little more than we wanted to spend, but it turns out we are quite happy with our decision.  There is a Hindi proverb that says:  Mahaga roye ek bar sastaa roye bar bar.  For those of you who can't read Hindi (haha), it roughly translates as: If you spend a lot of money, you might cry once. If you spend only a little, you’ll cry many times in the long run.

We did have to furnish the apartment ourselves, but it works well for us because we plan to move everything into an apartment in Aligarh after our stint in Delhi is complete.  It was also nice to start from scratch and shop for our own new home furnishings after the wedding.  Of course that meant having dinner on our lovely marble floor for the first week or so, but it has definitely given us greater appreciation for our table.



First home-cooked meal in our new apartment.
Rice, veg, salad, yogurt, dal (lentils).

I have heard that Abby can cook a good Indian dish, but I'm not sure what the other ETAs are doing in terms of meals.  One of the groups (Stephanie, Nick, Kim, Aileen) have hired a cooking lady who comes to their house three nights a week to prepare food and teach them how to cook.  In the culinary realm, I am extremely grateful to have a husband who is an excellent cook (though he won't admit it!).

 

Cooking Indian food takes a great deal of time, patience, and practice, and you literally have to work over a hot stove in an already hot kitchen (88F last night).  It really is an art form - mixing just the right combinations of spices, flavors, and textures.  We prefer to cook together, which actually means that I am the sous-chef who helps mainly with preparing vegetables and rice, and my husband is the head chef who does the intricate spice-mixing, etc.  We also enjoy a hearty American breakfast each morning, which consists of cereal and hot milk topped with fresh fruits from the market.  And, of course, a cup of tea.

 

Now onto school.  After discussing our experiences with the other ETAs this past week at USIEF (United States-India Educational Foundation), it sounds like I have been pretty lucky with my school placement.  I am fortuate to have a coordinating teacher, Mrs. Farhat Khan, who is really receptive to the Fulbright mission of cultural exchange, and who genuinely wants to learn about the teaching methods being used in the US.

 

The students are just like students anywhere, but there is a vast difference in English language ability within any given classroom, which is one obstacle I'm still trying to work around.  Some of the students are really motivated to improve their English, and others, like one of my students who aspires to join the Indian Police Services, openly admits that he prefers Hindi over English.  And I respect that.

 

On the other hand, there is one thing that has me more unsettled than anything else.  Corporal punishment.  No teacher in the US would ever think of touching a student.  Punishment in the US, at least in public schools, comes in the form of losing privileges to participate in sports and other activities, of having to conference with the principal, or receiving poor grades for poor effort.

 

But here I have seen students slapped on the back, across the cheek, or made to stand and hold their ears, or even slap themselves across the cheek, all in the classroom.  Mind you, this is illegal in India.  But it still happens, and we were forewarned that we might see it.  Still, I'm not sure how to respond to this, and it really kills me to see students humiliated in front of their classmates.

 

Anyway, I think this post is long enough for now.  Look for a series of back-dated posts as I try to catch up on the highlights of the past month's happenings.  Until then, Namaste!

 

Landour Language School, Mussoorie

At the end of the first week of our arrival in India, we traveled North to Mussoorie, a hill station in the Himalayas where British officers, not too long ago, took refuge from India's heat.  Nicknamed the "Queen of the Hills," Mussoorie is a quaint little town complete with fabric shops, tailors, cobblers, cafes, bookstores, and sweet shops.  For three weeks we took Hindi classes at Landour Language School.

10 AM tea break at Landour Language School, and all ten of us are present!

Our group of ten ETAs split into two ability levels for classes, beginner and non-beginner.  I went with the beginner group.  Even though I had some knowledge of Hindi, I only knew some very basic phrases, and I didn't know the grammar behind any of them.  So I thought it best to go a little slower in order to get a more solid foundation in the language, especially since I will be using it long after the completion of my Fulbright grant.

Overall, I had a great experience at Landour, and the classes were super intense.  Prior to attending Landour, I had virtually no knowledge of Devanagari, the Indian script in which Hindi is written (English is written in Roman script), but by the end of our three weeks I was able to stumble my way through paragraphs written in Devanagari.  Ah, the joy of literacy!  And how delightful to be able to read Hindi street signs and metro maps upon returning to Delhi, and directions at the train station in Aligarh.  It was as if a whole new world had opened itself to me at once.

Saying goodbye to Principal Ji, one of our Hindi teachers.

The teaching style at Landour, which included a lot of information but lacked much practice, was not ideal for everyone, but I think the teachers did a great job for the short time we had.  Admittedly, I had an advantage being that I had my Hindi-speaking husband to help me study at home, but I also did a lot of studying outside of classes--of which we had four per day, five days per week, all ending by noon.

Mussoorie was green and beautiful, but it would have been much nicer had it not been monsoon season.  I presume it was from a combination of the high altitude, the cold, and the constant humidity/fog that all ten of the ETAs--plus my husband--managed to get sick during our stay there.  Poor Nick missed about the first week and a half of classes.

SOME THINGS ONE SHOULD KNOW ABOUT MUSSOORIE IN MONSOON SEASON:

1. Nothing dries.  Except for maybe your underwear.  Thus, even if you choose to wash your own laundry instead of giving it to the dhobi, at least give it to the dhobi to dry, or you'll discover #2: 
   

   

   Outside our front door in Mussoorie.

   
   
2. Everything gets moldy.  Your clothes, your suitcase, maybe even your backpack.  And if it doesn't get moldy, it will at least smell mildewy.
   
 
3. Monkeys are everywhere.  So are their close relatives, langurs.  One day I nonchalantly walked outside while eating a sweet so as not to get crumbs in our room, and was jumped on by a monkey.  Scary?  Yes.  But also a little funny.  The monkeys leapt and bounded across our tin roof for the next two and half weeks.

A few more pictures from Mussoorie...

The kuttha that was waiting for us everyday when we walked back "home" after classes at Landour.  He always sat on top of that wall--except, of course, on the day I took this picture.

Trying to feed a calf on our way down to the market, but the calf would have none of it.

A nice view walking down the mountain to the market.

Contrary to popular belief, more than 70% of Indians live in rural areas.  Mussoorie, of course, is largely a tourist destination, but it's also very green--not how most people picture India.

All dressed up and ready for dinner with the rest of the ETAs.
(And I'm happy to report that I can now drape my sari much nicer than this.)

Another view of Mussoorie.  Puzzle picture perhaps?

FUTURE ETAs:

You might consider purchasing some salwar-kameez, the kind of Indian suit that you (girls) will be expected to wear to school.  Unless, of course, you want to don a sari.  Visit the fabric shops and have your clothes custom-made at a tailor's shop while in Mussoorie so you're all set for school when you return to Delhi.

Landour Community Hospital

I am not an expert on the health care system in the US, but I do know that it is surrounded by much controversy.  It was mainly this controversy, primarily over health insurance and bureaucracy, which contributed to my amazement with my first encounter with the medical system in India.

Last week I became one of many who have become sick while staying in Mussoorie—not surprising considering the high altitude, cold temperatures, and monsoon rains.  If it had been up to me, I would have likely stocked up on Dayquil and Nyquil and let my head cold run its course.  But when my husband woke me from one of my marathon naps and told me to get ready and that the taxi was coming, I did not have much of a choice but to go along.

Landour Community Hospital, Mussoorie

We ended up going to Landour Community Hospital, a missionary hospital here in Mussoorie.  I was a bit skeptical of going to the hospital for a head cold, but I was absolutely amazed at the efficiency and affordability of this place.  For 200 rupees (about USD $4.49) I was able to see a doctor.  At most I waited about 15 minutes to see her.  It wouldn't even have taken that long had there not been some other emergency she was attending to.  Mind you, this was all without scheduling an appointment ahead of time.  Shortly after taking my blood pressure and listening to my breathing, I was diagnosed with an upper respiratory infection and given two prescriptions: one for an antihistamine, and one for Vitamin C.

We then walked to another counter in the same building and paid 14 rupees (USD $0.31) for three days-worth of medicine.  (Here we also found out that I was charged 200 rupees for my first-time visit because I was a foreigner; Indian nationals are charged only 50 rupees.)  The final counter was that of the pharmacy, where we collected our medicines and then returned to our guest house.  For once it cost more to travel to the doctor than it did to actually see her.

India might be notorious for bureaucracy and chaos, but they certainly seem to have their health care system down pat.

Wedding, Two Flat Tires, and Finally in Mussoorie

Well, a lot has happened since my last post.  The most exciting thing: I am married!  Last Friday when the rest of the group took a night train from Delhi to Mussoorie, my then-fiancé and I took a night train to Aligarh, where our wedding took place.  The train ride, which was supposed to take two-and-a-half  hours, ended up taking about four.  That delay was only a preview of the events to come later in the weekend.

Receiving blessings from our parents and stand-in parents.

(L to R: My friend Shobhitha’s Aunt and mother; my mother-in-law; Robert; John; my father-in-
law)

Our extremely last-minute wedding preparations (including having my wedding sari blouse fitted and sewn) began Saturday morning and didn’t stop until Sunday morning.  Around noon my then-fiancé returned to his home village to perform some pre-wedding rituals.  In true Indian fashion, even our wedding began later than scheduled, about six hours later.

One thing that puzzles me about India is the utter fascination with anything American.  Specifically, at our wedding, one of the drummers was wearing a t-shirt that sported the Playboy bunny logo, and one girl was wearing a shirt that said “Damn” something or another.  My first reaction was, Why in the world would they wear something like this to our wedding?!  But my more rational analysis was that people are so fascinated with anything American that they wear “American” clothing even if they do not understand it.  I guess it’s no different than thinking that Arabic script or Japanese characters are beautiful, only to find out later that the words you were admiring were something obscene.  Anyway, I am confident that neither of these persons would have been wearing this clothing had they known what it really meant.

We had planned to join the rest of the ETA’s on Monday morning for our first day of intensive Hindi classes at Landour Language School in the Himalayas.  Our plan was to take a Sunday night train from Aligarh to Dehradun, and a taxi from there to Mussoorie, but our train was canceled due to a fatal accident that occurred earlier that day.  Disheartened by the tragedy but glad for the time to get some much-needed sleep, we ended up taking a taxi from Aligarh to Dehradun, and then to Mussoorie, on Monday.

Two canceled train tickets, twelve hours in a taxi, and two flat tires later, we finally reached our destination – 7,000 feet above sea level at a guest house in the Himalayas.  We slept quickly, woke up Tuesday morning for a quick breakfast, and made the five-minute walk from our guest house* to Landour Language School.

So far the Hindi classes have been fantastic.  The intensity of this three-week course is exactly what I was hoping it would be.  The classes for the ETA’s are five days a week for about four hours a day.  We finish around noon, so we have the entire afternoon to ourselves (and study, of course).  My husband and I walk to the language school together each morning, and while I am in classes, he works on his PhD research in one of the common areas there.  So far it’s working out okay for both of us.

We haven’t had much opportunity to enjoy the free afternoons yet, however, as I have come down with an upper respiratory infection (i.e. a really persistent head cold).  I guess the altitude and the rain will do that to a person.  To be sure, several of my fellow ETA’s and other Americans staying at our guest house have come down with colds as well.  Which brings me to my next post, about medical care in India.

*My husband and I stayed at a different guest house than the rest of the ETAs; their walk was much longer and steeper than ours.  I am sure you can read about it in some of their blogs.

HEADLINE: Terror strikes Mumbai again with series of blasts

"Three bomb blasts rocked India's largest city, Mumbai, in congested areas during the evening rush hour Wednesday, killing at least 21 people and injuring more than 100 others."  Read full CNN article here

Terrorist attacks in Mumbai are not uncommon.  Fortunately we are all safe and sound, but high security alerts have been issued for both New Delhi and Kolkata - the two cities where ETA's are placed.

HEADLINE: Kalka Mail train accident: 69 dead, rescue operation over

Read full NDTV article here

We were supposed to be traveling by train the night after this horrible accident happened, so our tickets were understandably canceled.  Thankful to be safe and sound, and also to have had an extra day to recover from the weekend's wedding festivities.  Thankful also that the death toll was not higher than it was.

Registration at the FRRO

That stands for Foreigner Regional Registration Offices.  Anyone staying in India on an Entry visa for longer than six months is required to register at the FRRO in the region where they are staying (ours was Delhi).  Last year's ETA's blogged horror stories about their FRRO experience, so I was pleasantly surprised with how smoothly the process went for us this year.

Fortunately we had an Indian citizen, who works part-time for Fulbright, assisting us with the process (e.g. making enough copies of certain documents, putting documents in the proper order, etc.).  He was also kind enough to put all ten of our names on a queue list at 6 AM this morning so that our applications would be processed first when the Office opened at 9:30 AM.

Thankfully these preparations allowed us to bypass much of the chaos that would have ensued otherwise.  Despite some expected confusions (we are in India), the process wasn't bad at all.  It ended up taking only 1.5 hours for all 10 of us to get registered.

Abby was number 10.  And just as Abby finally convinced the official that, yes, although she was born in Tokyo she is still an American citizen by birth because her parents are American citizens, the power went out.  Fortunately all she had left to do was get a final signature, which happened within minutes.  Thank goodness it waited till we were finished!

Welcome to India!

Now read that title again, with a strong Indian accent this time, so that "Welcome" sounds more like "Velcome," and you pronounce every vowel and consonant with the same precision you did when you were learning Spanish or some other foreign language.  Come to India and, ironically, your English will be improved, guaranteed.

Of the fifteen ETA's that are in India this year, twelve of us were on the same flight out of Chicago yesterday, July 3rd, the day before America celebrates her independence.  (There were supposed to be thirteen of us on the flight, but one unfortunately missed her connecting flight.)  Having met at the Pre-Departure Orientation (PDO) in Washington, D.C. one week prior made it easy for all of us to recognize each other at the airport.  We all congregated at the gate from which we were to depart.  One big blob of Americans amid a whole lot of Indians who were, I imagine, either returning to the subcontinent after a temporary stay in the US, or making their annual trip to visit their extended families in India.  Someday, I think to myself, my husband and I will be making this trip.

It was there, from our cozy little pile of people and luggage, that we watched the expected departure time for our flight to Delhi change from the original 4:40 PM to various other in-between increments until reaching the final departure time of 7:10 PM.  I was just glad that this flight was not canceled as was my flight home from the PDO in DC.  But, even if it had been, something would have worked out.

And so continues my preparation for India.  Another reminder of two of the most important items you cannot fit in your suitcase: Patience and flexibility.  Five years ago, one of my dear friends, who happens to be Indian American, kindly asked me why I walk so fast.  And, believe it or not, when I finally considered her comment and consciously slowed down my pace, and breathed deeply, the calmness and patience came with it.  This is part of my trick for adjusting to life in India.

This is not to say that I never walk like a crazy person anymore.  Sometimes I have to just to keep up with my mother.  But the pace of life in India is generally more nonchalant.  And you'll probably find yourself slowing your pace for one reason or another, be it the contagious nature of nonchalance or the high temperatures and humidity that impair your ability to do it any other way.

When we finally arrived at the airport, I rushed ahead to get through Immigration and to claim my baggage.  Not that it was terribly busy when we arrived, but I was eager to see my soon-to-be-husband, whom I knew would be waiting for me at Pillar 15.  My nervous excitement must have been a foil to my fellow ETA's who are leaving behind their (romantic) loved ones back in the States.  The feeling of leaving for an unknown period of time is one that I could relate to all too well.  But, fortunately for me, I now found myself on the opposite, happier end of the spectrum - reuniting with my loved one after almost one year.

From the airport the whole group of us traveled to the ridiculous Taj Mahal Hotel.  And by ridiculous I mean marble fountains and banisters, and being welcomed with leis made of fresh, aromatic jasmine flowers.

More on my conflicting feelings about the Taj in an upcoming post...

Pre-Departure Orientation in Washington, D.C.

Up until last week, I hadn't really grasped the fact that I am soon leaving for India.  I started a facebook group a while ago for the ETA's in India, which has been really helpful for communicating and getting to know each other, at least to the extent that the virtual world allows.  However, Fulbright still seemed somewhat like an illusion.

The Pre-Departure Orientation in Washington, D.C., was just the thing I needed to jump-start my enthusiasm about making last-minute purchases and packing.  It was also great to meet my fellow ETA's--and a relief to know that they are good-hearted, down-to-earth people who are excited to learn from and share with a culture and people very different from our own.

I was also pleasantly surprised to find out that several of the ETA's are also in committed relationships.  On that note, Prospective ETA's, if your significant other plans to visit you in India and stay for a significant period of time, I would highly recommend attending the Spouses and Dependents Panel at the D.C. Orientation--even if your significant other does not fall under this category.

One of this year's panel members, who studied in Nepal, semi-humorously told about how she and her then-boyfriend told everyone they met in Nepal that they were married because it is not socially acceptable for a woman and man to live together if they are unmarried.  That was one point that I gleaned from the session: Honesty is not always the best policy in India.

The second important point was that, if your significant other (or sibling, or parent, or anyone really) is visiting you in India for an extended period of time, make sure they have something meaningful to do with their time.  There are plenty of things to do in India, and especially in Delhi.  You could study at a local public library, take yoga classes, visit museums or temples, or volunteer with an NGO.  Regardless of what it is, make sure your significant other has something to do whenever you are not there to entertain.

Obtaining the Proper India Visa

The process of applying for and obtaining an entry visa to India was more time-consuming than I had anticipated.  I submitted my application to the Indian Consulate through Travisa Outsourcing, a third-party company who handles most India visa applications.

I had used Travisa's services twice before and had very positive experiences.  However, this time - while not miserable - was a little more disorganized.  Apparently there is confusion every year over the fact that Fulbright ETA's require an entry visa and not a working visa.  This resulted in my application being put on hold for 10 working days.  Now, I should have contacted Fulbright as soon as my application was put on hold (they had advised us to contact them immediately if we encountered any problems).  Instead I waited for four or five days before notifying them.

Even after contacting Fulbright, I still ended up calling Travisa and being put on hold with a representative for nearly one hour.  But, with polite persistence my application was finally processed and sent to the Indian Consulate.  Still, despite all this, I received my passport with the proper India visa about 2 1/2 weeks after Travisa received my paper application in the mail.

I know that other ETA's had similar issues, but there were also some who had no problems at all.  I know of one fellow ETA who submitted his application approximately one week later than me and still received his visa before I did - I'm convinced that those of us who applied right away helped to uncover all of the problems and that Travisa had everything sorted out by then!

Malaria and Mosquitoes

My travel clinic, unsurprisingly, recommended that I take preventative malaria medication while in India.  However, after doing a good deal of research and consulting with last year's Fulbright ETA's, I have ultimately decided against it.  For me, the possible side effects aren't worth it.  Additionally, New Delhi is a relatively low-risk area; even though I won't be taking the prophylactics, I will take precautions like wearing long sleeves, bug spray, and using All Out (a mosquito-repelling plug-in) at home.

Two Seniors Receive Fulbright Awards

Ursinus seniors Ashley Green and Martina Dzuna have both received Fulbright awards that will allow them to explore international cultures and further their academic study. The prestigious Fulbright program distributes just 1,600 awards to U.S. students annually. (Pictured: Ashley Green) Green is a Sociology major who will be teaching English to middle or high school students in New Delhi, India. Her fascination with India and interest in the Fulbright program began when she met an Indian man on an airplane who would later become her fiancée. At the time, he was working as a Fulbright Foreign Language Teaching Assistant, and told her about the program and the culture. Since then, she has spent a summer visiting in India. “Going back this time, for Fulbright, is going to be very different,” she said, “and I’m really excited for it. I’m dreading the heat, but I can’t wait to be back in a place where time is cyclical and things are not so rushed.” Studying abroad in India and in South Africa has changed her thinking about changing others. While interested in helping less developed nations, she says change has to come from within. “More than anything,” Green says, “I want to engage in a cultural exchange in which the students teach me about India, and I teach them about the United States. That is the mission of Fulbright, to create cross-cultural understanding.” Ursinus’ second Fulbright, Martina Dzuna, is an Environmental Studies and German double major, who will be traveling to Freiburg University in Germany to continue the research on gathering that she started at Ursinus. Under the tutelage of Dr. Patrick Hurley, assistant professor of environmental studies, she has been investigating non-timber forest product gathering in the Philadelphia area, which includes plants, nuts, and fungi. These can be used in many different ways, from food to craft materials. In addition to the research that she has done in the area, Dzuna also has experience gathering with her family in Slovakia. She chose Environmental Studies as a major, she said, “because the interdisciplinary approach that Environmental Studies takes has been perfect for me, since it combines science with policy, which interests me more than just pure science. It tends to be a more complete way of approaching complex problems such as climate change or environmental degradation.” Both students credited their professors for guiding them to their current success. Dzuna described how Professor of German Dr. Robin Clouser encouraged her to apply for the Fulbright program, and how Dr. Hurley’s research contacts in Germany helped to move her project forward. “Having small classes allows you to build better relationships with your professors, which opens up a lot of opportunities you may not otherwise have,” she says. Green echoed her classmate’s praise of the small, personal atmosphere at Ursinus. Her first memory at Ursinus is that of the late President John Strassburger, smiling at her and greeting her by name. “The transformation I have undergone since setting foot on campus my freshman year is tremendous,” she said, “not just academically, but personally too.” Originally published 5/18/2011 on the Ursinus College website. Written by David Hysek 2011.