Trick or Treat?

Trick or Treat? I'll take a samosa, thank you.

Halloween is one of our favorite holidays to celebrate, so we decided to do it up in our neighborhood. My mom and dad sent out a package filled with some Halloween decorations (like the stretchy cobweb stuff) and we were able to procure some small to medium sized pumpkins from the local market. Needless to say the neighborhood kids came over to enjoy the festivities. In lieu of bobbing for apples we decided to make pinatas from paper mache. One of the older children opened the pinata with a direct hit and left Evan asking "What happened to that pinata?" while the other kids quickly descended upon the loot.

Evan's costume was a stoplight of course, since his favorite game is "red light-green light", while Eli was a wrapped present (with only his head sticking out of the box).

It was a lot of fun to show off one of the more unique American traditions.

Horn Guy & the Holy Cow

Did you ever wonder where the term "Holy Cow!" came from? I've been thinking about this lately and I figure that it has to come from India. Of course cows are sacred here and they roam freely in the streets. People sometimes go out of their way to feed them for good fortune.

We have cows in our neighborhood and they hang outside of our house sometimes. They're fairly low key as cows are - just chewing on some grasses and such. They ate the pumpkins that we had carved into Jack-O-Lanterns for Halloween.

The other day this guy came through the neighborhood ("colony" as they call it here in India) and was playing his horn and bringing his cow by for good luck. I tipped him big - 50 rupees, and took a video of him jamming on the horn. The cow is really decked out!

The Art of Rangoli

Rangoli is a Hindi word for making temporary patterns on the ground with white or colored powder. It is process that is exclusively reserved for women in India, and Kendriya Vidyalaya Tirumalagiri recently had a Rangoli competition as part of its CCA activities (cultural preservation). Although in appearance it might look like some colored chalk sidewalk art you might see at a crowded urban getaway like Battery or Central Park in NYC or perhaps at Faneuil Hall in Boston, it's different in many respects.

The Telagu word for this type of design is "Muggoo" - which is actually done daily in the morning as a sign of cleanliness. It shows that the house has been cleaned and in some ways publically reflects on its occupants. Usually done in only white powder on the sidewalk or street, it is usually barely still noticeable by evening time. I'd like to do more on the local Muggoo in the coming weeks - because it's really cool.

Both Muggoo and Rangoli are creative in their own rights, but the interesting thing is that there seem to be a few set patterns that most of the designs will follow. There is usually a series of dots arranged in a matrix through which a curved and unbroken decorative line will be woven. The pattern is usually symmetrical and is very beautiful. Although I can not say with 100% certainty, I am fairly convinced that the patterns are traditional and offer some underlying meaning or just simply an aesthetic connection to the past.

Red Sox International

The Red Sox Nation is perhaps more appropriately The Red Sox World. We ran into some Sox fans in Kochin and talked up baseball and for the first time I really felt homesick. We analyzed Beckett's first game performance in the ACLS against Cleveland, we talked about Pedroia's hitting, and we shook our heads about Manny. There is really something special about mid to late November in New England - the explosion of autumn foliage, the crisp and cool mornings and evenings, the crunching of leaves underfoot, the Halloween preparations, and of course, the crack of the bat and the smells of Yawkey Way, Landsdowne Street, and the Fenway.

I turned on the TV in our hotel room one morning to be absolutely delighted to find live coverage of ACLS game 7 against Cleveland, which of course sealed Bostons 3-1 defecit comeback to go onto the World Series. It was a great game and a pleasure to watch, especially given the circumstances. I really realized how much baseball brings us together at home - my parents are huge Red Sox fans and I usually go to their house to watch the games. I could feel the shared excitement with my neighbors back in New Hampshire and my colleagues and students at CHS - I knew everyone was watching.

But after getting a post from Ravi in Hyderabad I also realized that the Nation extends far beyond the borders of New England and the US - he contacted me from my new home city to find out where we could catch the Red Sox.

Go Sox! 2007 MLB World Series Champions!!!

P.S. Isn't there a team from New York too? Or is that a badmitten team I'm getting confused with?

Mysore - Act 2

Ahhh...the marketplace in India. Nothing in America remotely compares to this experience (assault, really) of the senses. My experience in the marketplace - the mall, for example, is quite plain and sanitized by comparison. Franchises stores selling branded merchandise to over-advertised consumers that look the same everywhere. Teenagers, god love 'em, man the kiosks and cash registers not really caring how much you spend on those jeans or whether or not you buy anything at all, much less even come into the store.

But in India family livilihoods depend on sales made that day and the marketplace, bazaar if you will, is filled with expert merchants who are tuned to the psycholog of buying. It seems like when business is slow that they will stop at nothing to simply get you into the store.

A bazaar simply implies a narrow street of shops sometimes covered by awnings or even the ubiquitous blue tarpaulin. Wares pour out into the streets or even hang from overhead. The smell of street food - samosas, pani puris, fried jelebe (ahhh - jelebe) fills the air. Merchants quickly move masses to and from their balance scales, measuring a 1/4 kg of onions, a 1/2 kg of bringal (mini eggplants), or in my case, a full kg of gulab jamun.

A sale might go like this:

Me: "How much for this salwar kameez material?"
Merchant: "Today special price because no business."

Me: "Really? OK - how much?"

Merchant: "This will look beautiful for wife."

Me: "Thanks. OK, now how many rupees?"

Merchant: "For you, my friend, 800 rupees, only."
Me: "800 rupees!?! You know I live here in India - I'm not some tourist fresh off the plane."

Merchant: ?

Me: "50 rupees, maximum"

Merchant: "Ha-ha-ha! No-no-no - not possible. This is less than I pay. 750 rupees."

Me: "You're not hearing me, friend. 50 rupees only."

Merchant: "OK, OK, then for you, 700 rupees".

And the dance might go on like this for another 5 minutes or so until one of two things happens:

1) He gets annoyed with me because I am seriously lowballing the price and stops talking to me.
2) I get annoyed with him because it's more than I want to pay and I walk out the store, which brings us to Act - 2, where the merchant comes after me into the street.

Merchant: "OK, OK, your price! 300 rupees."
Me: "My price?! My best offer is 200 rupees."
Merchant: "Please, this is not possible. 250 rupees. OK, take it! Take it!"
Me: "220 rupees, maximum price."
Merchant: "OK, OK, take it, 220 rupees."

In the end it's a fun exchange, if you're willing to accept the fact that sometimes you'll walk away with nothing. There is one golden rule to haggling though: Any Indian you tell about your purchase will respond: "Ahhhh... I think you have paid too much for this." (even if you got it for one rupee).

The central market in Mysore is called the Devaraja Fruit and Vegatable Bazaar. It was teeming with photo opportunities around every corner... the hard part was finding the right way to discreetly make portraits. It was the highlight of our third day in Mysore.

CLICK HERE TO SEE THE MYSORE - ACT 2 SLIDESHOW!

Mysore - Act 1

The trip out of Ooty to Mysore consisted of only one option - a steeply descending narrow road consisting of 36 precarious switchbacks - elegant, scenic, and terrifying. We decided on booking the "short bus" (how après po), a twenty-seater that would conveniently pick us up at our hotel in Ooty. After hoisting up our luggage to be strapped onto the roof we settled in for what would only begin as a calm and organized trip out of the Nilgiri range. The bus groaned and creaked around the hilly lanes of Ooty for another two hours, collecting more and more passengers who actively negotiated standing-room fares with the driver. Finally, with the mini bus packed to the gills with people and luggage our circuitous departure to Mysore would begin.


After arriving in Mysore we hired a driver to take us to Chumndi Hill, which looms over the city of and is one of Karnataka's more auspicious places. It is here where accirdung to lore, the multi-limbed goddess Durga (one of the many incarnations of Parvati, wife of Shiva) slayed a powerful demon. She is frequently depicted riding atop the back of a tiger, freeing the people from his powerful grip. This action positioned her as one of the patron gods of the royal family - making Mysore the seat of Dussera festivitites in southern India. The ten day celebration culminates with a lavish procession from the gates of the Maharaja's Palace through the city, complete with a golden "howdah" (a traditional covered throne carried on the back of an elephant), costumed performers depicting gods and demons of India, ornately painted elephants covered with rich tapestries, as well as floats depicting various aspects of traditional and contemporary Indian life.


We met up in Mysore with Paul Amstutz, one of the eight US Fulbright Teachers in India who is on assignment in Bangalore. Paul and his wife Karen also have a yound family with them and it was fun to share our unique experiences of travling with kids. They are from Yosemite, California where Karen works as a Park Ranger. They have three girls - Liza - 9, Sylvie - 6, and Lupin - 3. Paul has the most foreign travel experience of all the Fulbrighters, having worked as a trekking guide in Nepal for many years as well as leading a few excursions into Pakistan and the surrounding mountain areas.

Mysore turned out to be eye-candy. More on that in Part 2...

CLICK HERE TO SEE THE MYSORE ACT 1 SLIDESHOW

Evan in Ooty

Ooty is the name of the town (city by US standards) nestled in the tea growing region of the Nilgiris (which means "Blue Mountains") where the British established south India's most famous "hill station" in the southernmost state of Tamil Nadu. A hill station is basically Indian vernacular for a vacation resort area - this one founded by the Englishman John Sullivan.

Admittingly, for the first time in my trip to India I was disappointed. Udhagamandalam, or Ooty for short, most likely barely resembles its quaint and relaxing past. What Ooty has going for it - incredible mountain scenery and emerald green tea estates - is only to be found outside of the city. In my opinion, Ooty is not a destination, but merely a base camp for excursions into the mountain valleys and countryside. Despite promises of elegant British-style cottages and incredible gardens, I found a fairly typical developing city in India - complete with traffic congestion, pollution, and very few remnants of the British summer retreat.

I did enjoy the cool weather, most likely the reason the English established this settlement in the first place. We wore sweaters throughout the day and gathered around a fireplace by night. It rained a lot - perhaps it made the English feel as if they were back home.

I was saved on the second day when we hired a local guide to take us into the forests and tea estates that surround Ooty for a full day hike, or trek as the Indians will call it. The scenery was breathtaking and I can only imagine what this place looked like just one or two hundred years ago. Evan quickly became, as Jessie likes to call it, the "littlest ambassador". You'll just have to see the photos/slideshow to get the idea.

I have been very aware of my race/ethnicity while here in India. When we are in our home in Secunderabad, we are literally the ONLY white people I will see. The dark and beautiful skin of the Indians has become the norm for us, and when I see pictures of myself or look at my family I often think to myself "jeez - we are so pale!" Indians have made comments to us like "you are so white, I can't believe it." When we were hiking in Ooty walking in the hillside farms and tea estates, our Indian guide brought to my attention that we were spooking the livestock. Once he pointed this out I realized that cows and buffaloes were staring at us. And only us - Indians were nothing special to them, but our white skin was completely alien and they would stare or get spooked.

CLICK HERE TO SEE THE OOTY SLIDESHOW!

Backwaters by Houseboat

Kerala is famous for its natural beauty and more specifically the extensive network of "backwaters" which weave through the central coastal areas of the state. These sometimes narrow channels interconnect larger lakes and rivers and are the lifeblood to this primarily agrarian community. The natural scenery is breathtaking - with palm lined canals backdropped by huge expanses of rice paddies and colorful birds populating various environmental niches. Perhaps the neatest feature of the backwaters are the Keralites themselves and the manner in which they live. Small huts are fixed onto long and narrow spits of land or sometimes islands, no more than 15 feet across. Life is spent mostly on the water, either fishing or tending to the rice paddies, and the waterways are the only form of transportation. Long, narrow boats with elegantly upturned ends dot the waterways, mostly propelled by long bamboo punting tended by one or two people. Some have an additional sail attached to a very short mast while the remaining few have loud and smelly small outboard motors.

It's a simple but beautiful life which we got to observe from the luxury of our houseboat - the most popular way of visiting the backwater region. Houseboats in Kerala have the hull design of a rice barge, but everything above the main deck has been rehabilitated into a luxury home - including electric lights and running water in bedrooms and bathrooms. The most important part of the houseboat is the main seating area which is open on the sides but covered by wicker thatch and bamboo from the hot sun. There are comfortable chairs and couches, and even a ceiling fan! The idea is to let the experience just float by, and that we did.

We arrived in Allepuzza from Varkala at about noontime, and after haggling over prices and inspecting a few different boats we were off on our 24 hour adventure. The boat comes complete with three crewmember who drive the boat and serve freshly made food throughout the day. At a few times the experience almost became trancelike - the boat slowly drifting through small island villages in the still air while the sounds of daily life (Keralites speak a derivative of Sanskrit called Malayalam) could be heard.

We parked for a quiet night along a narrow dike abutting some rice paddies and went exploring before it rained. What a great experience.

CLICK HERE TO SEE THE BACKWATERS SLIDESHOW!

Varkala Solitude

Varkala is a small village near the southern tip of India (near the city of Trivanderum, about three hours south by train from Kochin) that is gaining a reputation for its fine beach nestled among the steep cliffs and Arabian Sea sunsets. We rented a small (perfectly round) cottage on one of the clifftops overlooking the beach and pretty much just kicked it back for a few days of well deserved R & R.

It was nice to take a break from teaching and enjoy some of Kerala's scenic beauty. Kerala in many ways just doesn't feel like the rest of India in terms of congestion, noise, and pollution. There seems to be, dare I say, serenity and peace to these coastal towns that I simply have not been able to find in the Hyderabad/Secunderabad region.

We had some great seafood and enjoyed the fine views, but discovered that Indians aren't really beachgoers. The beautiful sands of Varkala were empty with the exception of a handful of fully clothed tourists - some of whom even went in the water with all their clothes on!

Kerala!

The KV schools have an Autumn break that coincides nicely with the Dussera Festival (more on this to come later) which honors the goddess Durga. We packed up our bags for 12 days and headed south on the Deccan peninsula for what would be a splendid break from my new routine here.

Erin McGraw, another US Fulbright teacher (who is working in Hyderabad about one hour from where we are in Secunderabad) joined us for the trip on an early flight to the southern state of Kerala (pronounced key-air-a-la). Kerala is an interesting place - protected on the east from the "Western Ghats" - a set of mountains that bisects the lower portion of the Deccan peninsula and on the west by the Arabian Sea. This relative isolation has A unique set of customs, food, and language (called Malayalam, a palindrome and one of the many regional derivatives of Sanskrit).

We started our adventure with a flight to Kochin, a coastal town at about the midpoint in the state. We ran into other western tourists for the first time in months, including a few Americans wearing Red Sox hats - you can imagine what we ended up talking about!

The highlight of my trip to Kochin was a three-hour Kathakali performance - the regional Keralean dance. A casual observer might find it akin to sign language - but what it lacks in efficient utility it more than compensates for in fluid, dancelike motions of the hands and face. There is no elaborate footwork, props, or stage - rather the attention of the audience is directed to the face of the performer, his exquisite costume, and the unbelievable, nearly characaturelike movements of the face. The production is accompanied by four or five musicians including two large upright drums, which direct the overall tempo of the song, one bongo style hand-tapped horizontal drum, and an accordion type of instrument which was played by the singer/narrator who juxtaposed a trance-like vocal harmony (similar to mantra) against powerful percussion rhythms.

India as a whole is littered with monuments to its recent colonial past - largely European efforts to control the spice trade and profit from this fertile region, but also in aggressive religious conversion efforts. The Portuguese seafarers of the 16th century established missions and posts in Fort Kochin, but their influence was limited to this small area and the larger northern colony at Goa. Vasco de Gama, the explorer, died and was buried here, but was later exhumed and brought back to Lisbon. The large Portuguese gates and terra cotta rooftops and gables reminded me of this colonial past.

The French also traded from the eastern side of the Deccan just south of Chennai (Madras) in Pondicherry while the English, originally as the East India Company from Calcutta, would eventually colonize the entire subcontinent and rule from the newly established capital city in New Delhi. It would be a few hundred years before eventual Indian independance in 1947.

See the Fort Kochin slideshow by clicking here!

Settling in @ KVT

I have now really settled into my assignment here at Kendriya Vidyalaya Tirumalagiri. The students are warm to me and eagerly seek out my attention. I still have "new guy" status, but I am also different, an anomaly really, among the staff here at the school. Besides the famous videos of CHS, students are really responding to some Hindi phrases that I have picked up along the way. Most of the phrases I have learned on the way to school in the auto rickshaw with Dr. Sharma's two wonderful daughters - Virajita and Vipanchika. Verajita, or Veru for short, has been my willing teacher on the morning rides to school, often spelling things out phonetically when I am struggling with a particular word. My class eleven students become delirious with laughter when I try out my new phrases on them - either its the outright ridiculous accent I have or I have said something inadvertently - they won't tell me.

My teaching routine is also coming along - I certainly can't compete with the effectiveness of veteran Indian teachers here as far as preparing the students for the national board exams, but I do think I am able to get a little physics into them. I am currently planning the "slice-the-pendulum" lab for them (for all you grizzled physics veterans), which I am hoping will be fun experience for the students.

The morning assembly continues to be a special time of the day for me - I continue to be awestruck by the singing of the morning prayer and the national anthem as well as the overall happiness of the students. They, for the most part, LOVE being at school. I have had students often request additional classes (and not like the random overachiever) - and a willingness to come in on Sundays (our one day off during the week) to do some extra instruction. On the few occasions in which I have made such extra sessions, almost every student showed up for class - making their own transportation arrangements in order to attend. If I close my eyes I can see the tumbleweeds blowing throughout the hallways if I were to proposition one of my American students with their lifelong dream of "extra physics"!

I have promised myself to attempt to capture the morning prayer / assembly in video and post it here later - perhaps in November. Veru has agreed to translate it from Hindi into English, so you will be able to follow along.

CLICK HERE TO SEE THE KV TIRUMALAGIRI PHYSICS SLIDESHOW

A Day in the Life

Saanya is a pleasant and confident 12th-grader here at KV Tirumaligiri in class XIIA - which happens to be across the corridor from my home in the Physics Lab.

I have been showing some videos that I took in the final weeks before summer break at CHS this year to the Indian students so that they can become familiar with how American students look, dress, behave, and carry themselves throughout the day at our school. This was one of those things that knew before I left the US that I simply wouldn't be able to convey to my students here. They have become fondly known around KVT as simply "the videos" and it goes like this: "Sir, will you show us the videos please?" I have been here for nearly two months and I continue to be asked daily about "the videos". I have started asking myself how I will show the kids back in the US what kids are like here in India, and although I know I will eventually turn to video again, I got the idea of a photojournal from Jessie. The idea is simple - keep quiet, give the camera to one of the kids, and just let them tell their own story. As it turns out, our first taker is quite a budding artist and seemed to really take to the camera. What a way to begin!

She tells a great story with her photographs which you can activate in the Flickr menu by clicking on the "i" which appears at the center of the image when you hover over it. You'll quickly discover that the IM and texting vernacular has permeated the life of Indian teens as well - although judging by some papers I've graded in the past few years at CHS, Saanya seems a bit more adept at switching it off during school.

Saanya has commented on most of the pictures (she took all of them, including some nice self-portraits) but still has a few left to do - feel free to check back for some updates.

CLICK HERE TO SEE THE SAANYA SLIDESHOW