India to Thailand

The past few days have been absolutely insane, so I haven’t really had much time to update my blog.  My reflections on India stop after my Erode Village Homestay, so that’s where I will pick up.  In the morning on my second to last day in India, I returned to the ship from my homestay.  After taking a glorious shower and eating some breakfast, my friend Colleen and I decided to explore the port city of Chennai.  We left the ship and started walking through the port (about a 1 km walk from the ship to the port gate).  When we got to the port gate we hired a Rickshaw, the little yellow motorized taxis that are seen in India and some Asian countries.  There were about 25 of them lined up, and every one of them wants your business.  We finally found a guy who was willing to take us the City Center Mall for 100 rupees, or $2 US.  You have to be careful with taxis and rickshaws because the drivers will tell you a price and then change it along the way, try to make you pay for gas, or take you to other shops before taking you to the correct one.  We got lucky and had an honest driver, and although he tried to charge us more he gave us no problems when we handed him a 100 rupee note and walked away.  The ride in the rickshaw was very interesting.  Rickshaws can squeeze in between buses and cars, and you often found ourselves in oncoming traffic.  I took a video of my rickshaw ride that you all will have to see when I get home. 

 

City Center Mall was a very western mall.  It was clean, and women were dressed more western than I had seen so far (they had on jeans and t-shirts).  Colleen and I were surprised to find out that it was National Women’s Day, evidentially a big holiday in India.  The mall had a small celebration, and we partook in the festivities.  First, we got some excellent tea.  We were given white roses, and got free henna on our hands.  There was a photographer and a videographer who enjoyed taking pictures of Colleen and I, and I am pretty sure that we ended up in a newspaper somewhere. 

 

We wanted to go to Spencer’s Plaza, a huge mall with hundreds and hundreds of stores.  We hired a rickshaw driver to take us there for fifty rupee.  We quickly realized that this was not such an honest driver.  We made 3 stops, one at a furniture store, all three extremely expensive.  The rickshaw drives can make commission off of bringing people to different stores, so this happens to just about everyone.  After one of the stores Colleen and I waited in the rickshaw while our driver went into the store.  He came out with a receipt that had the time in, time out, number of people, nationality, and other information about Colleen and me.  He got 150 rupee from the store, and we felt powerful with our ability to make someone money just by going into a store.  I wonder how much he would have made if I was Canadian, Irish, or German . . . He tried to take us to one more store but I said no, and insisted that he take us to Spencer’s.  He offered to go halves with us, giving us half of his earnings for the next store and not charge us for the ride.  He showed us his cross necklace and told us that he was a good Christian man trying to support his children and do the right thing.  It was pretty cool that he was Christian if he actually was, but I wondered how many necklaces he has around his neck . . . Although I thought it hilarious that I could actually make money by doing this, we wanted to go to Spencer’s.  The rickshaw driver finally told us that Spencer’s was closed (which it really wasn’t as we found out later), and he took us back to City Center Mall.  Back at City Center we got some cookies from this cookie kiosk, and they heated them up for us in the microwave . . . so delicious.  My favorite was caramel cashew!  We bought some groceries and decided to go back to the ship because we were both exhausted.  We hired another rickshaw to take us back.  I slept, watched movies, and relaxed for the rest of the day.

 

Our last day in India, Colleen, Jill, Ben, Connor, and I squeezed in a rickshaw and went to Spencer’s Plaza.  Spencer’s was very large and dirty, but you can bargain there and there is more “India-type” stuff than there was at City Center Mall.  We walked around for a while, bought some stuff, and ate at Pizza Hut.  Yes, Pizza Hut.  Pizza Hut was overrun with Semester at Sea students, in fact.  Every seat was taken up by hungry American college students.  The personal pan pizza that I had was excellent.  They called it Veggie Crunch or something, and it had onion and tomatoes on it . . . for only 75 rupee, of $1.50 US.  At Spencer’s Plaza I had bought some postcards, and had written them while eating.  When we left Spencer’s we hired a rickshaw driver to take us to the post office and then to the ship.  The post office was quite an experience.  Colleen came in with me while the other three stayed in the rickshaw.  The post office was extremely crowded and there were a million lines, each for something different . . . also, no one spoke English there.  It would have been easier if I was only sending postcards, but I was also sending two letters, each filled with pictures making them too heavy to send with regular postage.  After about 5 minutes I figured out that I had to go to a scale, weigh my letters, write the weight, and then go to get the correct amount of stamps.  My one letter had 4 different stamps on it!  I was in such a rush, too, because if I was in there longer the rickshaw driver said he would charge a bit more, so I threw the stamps on and we left (he didn’t end up charging anything additional because I was relatively fast).  We then went back to the ship.

 

A side note about the last day – It had been raining, and I was wearing flip flops because I didn’t want to ruin my sneakers.  I also had on white sweatpant-material capris.  I kicked up so much tar and dirt onto myself that my carpris are now Pokka dotted!  I had to wash my legs and my feet three times in the shower, continuously scrubbing. 

 

India is dirty.  It is littered with garbage and feces.  Men pee on the side of the roads, and children play in garbage.  But India is also littered with the bright colors of saris and the intricate designs of temples.  India smells like sewage and sweat.  The toxic rivers reek of the human feces that are daily dumped into the water.  But India also smells like beautiful flowers and fresh coconut milk.  India has extremely poor citizens who pitifully romp about the city, unable to make a better life.  They live in dilapidated tents, and sleep in their own filth.  But India has extremely poor citizens who have more faith and generosity than even the richest of men.

 

I have said it before, and I emphasize this point:  India is not a place you can write about or describe, it is a place you must feel.  The energy, hope, and happiness expressed in a single child’ smile makes a little piece of you come alive, a part of you that you didn’t know existed.  I feel more whole than I did before I had been to India.  I was unaware that I was incomplete, but now I feel more whole.  India changes you.

 

The day after India was a free day.  No classes, no required meetings, just sleep and reflection.  I slept until 1130, ate lunch, then slept from 1200 to 1500.  It was a relaxing day.  We then had four days of classes.  The first two days of classes I spent locked up in my room, studying.  I seriously only left to go to classes and to meals.  I also watched a few movies, and spent time with myself.  Sometimes I need time to myself to digest everything that is going on, my crazy life, my amazing experience.  I always find myself going back to the question, “who the hell am I?”  What did I do to deserve this?  I often feel frustrated because it is hard convey the change that is going on inside of me.  It is a change that you can’t know or comprehend until you too have traveled the world and seen the places and things that I have seen.  I wish that other people, my friends and family, could share in this experience.  I think about individuals daily, and relate my experiences to them . . .

Dad:  You would love South Africa.  Golf, wine, warm climate, and lots of relation. 

Mom:  You would love Spain.  Great pastries and fresh fruit, not too hot but not to cold, and a nap in the middle of the day.

Sabrina:  You would love Morocco.  Constant business, endless culture to be explored, fairs and bizarres, street shows, monkey, and last but not least, couscous.

Grandpa Kelly:  You would love India.  If you ever would visit there, I don’t think you would come home.  Yes, the poverty and filth would get to you, but the human spirit of the Indian people would steal your heart, and you would be in heaven if you saw the generosity of the people.

Rich:  Namibia would be perfect for you.  For the most part it is very modern and clean.  There aren’t too many people, and everyone is friendly with each other.  It is always hot, and would be an ideal location to set up a neighborhood ice cream shop.  Also, there are some very poor townships, remnants of Apartheid.  I think that you would enjoy doing some missionary work there.  Namibia also has giraffes, elephants, and zebras, and who doesn’t love those?

Don and Betty Helpa:  You would like a little of each.  For Betty, the shopping in South Africa and in Spain.  For Don the golfing in South Africa.  You both would love the Sangria in Spain, the vineyards and wine in South Africa, the great food in Morocco, and the excitement of the rickshaw in India. 

Aunt Fern: I think that you would love India, like my Grandpa.  The children there would touch your heart, and I think they would change you like they changed me. 

…those are just a few examples, but I do this with almost everyone I know, thinking about you all and how much you would love these countries.

 

On the third day of classes after India I had a Demography midterm at 8am (one reason why I had been locked in my room).  I felt very, very good about it but I got a call from my professor a few hours later in my room.  He told me that I had missed a question, so we met 5 minutes later and he allowed me to answer the question.  I thought, how cool is that . . . that my professor can call my room, my cabin and meet me 5 minutes later because he now knows me enough to trust that I legitimately missed the question and wasn’t spending my day looking up the answer.  Also, I got back a paper in poetry class.  I was unsure of it, because it was a interpretation paper for a poem, and my professor is so specific.  If you don’t see what he saw in the poem, he will give you a lower grade.  BUT, I got an A and it made me very happy.  That night I went to pub night with some of my friends and we had a very good time.  I am becoming quite the lover of Rose wines. 

 

Today, our final day before Thailand, I am relaxing.  After Global Studies I went to the field office to buy a bus ticket from Bangkok back to the ship, and then ate lunch.  Lunch was terrible, but they had chilled banana soup which I have learned to love.  It is somewhere between a smoothie and a juice, and is always delicious.  Now, as I am writing this, I am sitting in my room drinking hot chocolate and eating Otis Spunkenmier cookies, which are made fresh daily and sold 3 for $2 (expensive but worth it once in a while).    I think I may lay out for an hour later, it is a bright and sunny day.  I am trying to prepare myself for the next month.  In the next 27 days we only have 6 days on the ship.  We have 5 days in Thailand, 2 days on the ship, 5 days in Vietnam, 2 days on the ship, 6 days in China, 2 days on the ship, and 5 days in Japan.  Time in port always flies by, and the day before a port and after a port always fly by, so the next 27 days are going to be gone in an instant.  What is even weirder/scarier is that after this stretch I only have Hawaii and Guatemala left.  We do gain a day coming across the International Date Line, and coincidentally that day is Easter.  So, I will have two Easters this year (you will have to be sure to let the church know about that one, because I think it’s pretty awesome).  We have all been looking forward to our stretch of time in the Asian countries, and now it is finally here.  But in a way I don’t want it to be, because then it will be over soon, and then my trip will be over soon.  This is all too fleeting.  I really wish that I could stay on this ship forever. 

 

I find the great thing in this world is not so much where we stand, as in what direction we are moving – we must sail sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it – but we must sail, and not drift, nor lie at anchor.

                        -Oliver W. Holmes