tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68925678832525352022024-03-05T16:12:29.539+04:00Nicole's Indian OdysseyMy journey living in Surat, Gujarat India for a year through Rotary Youth Exchange!Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6892567883252535202.post-82642727999217749932012-05-19T10:29:00.002+04:002012-05-19T10:29:28.144+04:00:) The Land of Smiles :)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now that I have lived in India for almost ten months now I know that one could never understand a place by simply being a tourist there. In Thailand I was in fact only a tourist for eight days. My time there was very nice, but I did not learn a thing about culture. I was very close with the Thai exchange student in my city last year. I asked her a lot of questions and it is only because I spoke with her that I know a thing about Thailand.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My friend Anna and I went to Thailand to go to the Rotary International Conference in Bangkok. However we only went to one hour of the convention. We were never even registered for the convention: / The first two days of our journey we were in Pattaya. Pattaya is nothing but a bunch of foreigners who came for the notorious Thai sex industry. There are prostitutes literally EVERYWHERE! After India I consider myself a passionate feminist, and it sickens me to see women forced to do horrible things for their livelihood. The city disgusts me and I hated being there. Pattaya is supposedly famous for its beaches, but I found that they were sub-par because they were ruined by tourists. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Bangkok-</span></b> We finally saw a glimpse into a more Thai Thailand. The hotel we stayed in was overly luxurious and it was in the very commercial part of town. To be honest this is exactly the kind of travelling I do not want to do. We went on vacation to Thailand not really to discover it. Fortunately Anna and I were given a lot of freedom so we travelled through the city to visit local flower markets and Buddhist temples. The Temple of the Reclining Buddha was stunning. All of the temples we visited were artistic masterpieces. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">People-</span></b> There is a reason that Thailand is called the “Land 1,000 Smiles”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People are very warm and enthusiastic to help you with anything. I found people very innocent and sweet, but they are incredibly shy people. I spoke with some other exchange students at the conference to ask them questions about their experiences and they said that what I said was true, but Thai people do not communicate at all. Of course I was not there for enough time to make any judgement call on this.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Food-</span></b> Thailand is famous for its exotic cuisine; however all of it has meat. Thailand is a nightmare for vegetarians. There is even meat in desserts sometimes. Once I bit into a pink little rice cake very similar to a cupcake and there was a chunk of chicken in the middle. Who puts chicken in cupcakes?! Because Anna and I are vegetarians the only Thai dish we could eat was Pad Thai. We ate it every day for lunch and dinner. We also bought a lot of Thai snacks like seaweed and strange Asian processed foods. The best thing about Thai food is the crazy exotic fruits. Mangosteen, litchi, dragon fruit! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We never had a real food issue because we were travelling with a group of Indians. Where there are Indian people there is always Indian vegetarian food. Every night there was an option for an Indian restaurant. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I had a very short trip to the Land of Smiles, and I cannot say that I learned so much but it was an experience. One day I will go back to Thailand to meet my friend Isis so that she can show me the true Thailand. Bangkok is cool, but it is the opposite of my travelling style. The only reason I would ever go back to Bangkok is to see the temple of the Reclining Buddha again, and I would absolutely never go back to Pattaya. I’m thinking that when I come back to India with my parents I will do a tour of all of Asia. I have to go to Burma and Nepal. My best friend Camille went to Burma and she says it is her favourite country to travel in. I would like to see Indonesia and maybe even the Philippines. I have become increasingly curious about Arabic speaking countries, but I would like to finish Asia before I start something else.</span></div>
</div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6892567883252535202.post-73106828053127884272012-04-27T00:21:00.001+04:002012-04-27T08:38:23.849+04:00A Journey to the East<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Camille’s French family came to India to visit her and they invited me to travel with them to East India. It was an amazing experience to travel with them. They are wonderful people and through them I learned more about France and India. I am very thankful for what they did for me. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We went to Varanasi which is THE holy city of India located on the Holy Ganga River and Kolkata the city of the British Empire.</span></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Varanasi</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I will never be able to understand how I felt in Varanasi. Varanasi will haunt me forever. Never again do I hope to find such ignorance and desperation in the human soul. Varanasi is a place the world would like to believe moved on 700 years ago. We can put men on the moon, and if we wanted to we could program a robot to pick our nose. In times like this how does a place where millions of people believe drinking the water of the most polluted river in the world contaminated with decaying babies will erase every bad thing you did in your life still exist? Seeing the desperation of a human being’s life force them to believe in a clearly twisted belief system is appauling. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Unknowingly Camille’s father photographed a pile of holy wood. He apologized and erased the picture. However the locals did not accept this. They said, “This no sorry! We take your father and we beat your father, then you say sorry and everything ok. This is not sorry!” Then they aggressively pulled us off the platform and after a lot of bad mouthing we lost them. I was not afraid for my safety, but I was afraid that such uneducated vile people exist . Their animalistic behaviour sickened me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The images of the flesh being burning off the bones of human bodies permently stains my memory. I expected this. But more challenging<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>than seeing this was the benevolence shown towards life and death. More than 300 bodies are burned daily, but not one single tear is allowed to be shed. If a family cannot afford enough wood to burn their loved one, none will be given to them. They will simply half-burn the body. There is no compassion or a final sense of peace. The burning ghatts looked like bloody midevil battle fields. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>All of my opinions towards Varanasi<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>are knowingly jaded. Maybe Varanasi is too culturally rich for a westerner to ever understand, or maybe it is like this because people are uneducated and desperate. I do not pretend to be an expert, I only know how I feel . I won’t remember that Varanasi is the most ancient city of India or that Buddhism started there. All I will remember is the stinging fear I felt for humanity. As I am writing this I realize my emotions will appear misplaced to most of you. I also cannot understand why I am so scared by my experience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also I am not very good at capturing my emotions with words, but I started this blog to share my journey with you, and this is the best I can do. </span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Kolkata-</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Thankfully Kolkata was a much more cheerful experience. Kolkata is the Cultural Capital of India and it is also supposed to be the dirtiest and poorest city. I do not think that I witnessed everything in Kolkata because I experienced almost none of its negative qualities. I loved everything I saw in Kolkata. I love Bengalis. Their attitude towards life is somehow drastically more whimisical and fun-loving than any other region of India. I met a woman on the street who was digging through the trash to find food. It breaks my heart to watch people do this. I watched her as she stumbled upon a rotten bag of potatoes. She cut away all the bad parts and by the time she was done there was the equivelant of three potatoes left. She saw me watching her and she gave me the most wonderfully warm smile. I was stunned because in all of my past experiences if I make eye contact with a poorer person they run to me and beg for money while tugging on my clothes. I also smiled and I inquired about what she was planning to make for dinner. With another delightful smile she said that she was making pav bhaji for her children. I asked her how many children she had and she proudly announced that she had six beautiful children. She has to feed six mouths with three potatoes.....I asked her if I could help her or if she needed something more, but she did not consider my offer for even half a second before refusing. This woman warmed my heart, which after Varanasi I needed very badly. This was not an isolated incident. I saw many people with the same behaviour. Of course there were many people that still came to beg, but even then they were much less aggressive even though they appeared equally desperate. Bengalis have a reputation for being very sweet, but very lazy. I do not find any Indians particularly efficient, but I do feel that Bengalis are lazier than other regions in India. Service in restaurants is often slow. If I ask for a glass I am sure to get it 30-40 minutes later after I do not need it anymore, but Bengalis cannot even do this. If I ask for a glass in Kolkata they will just say no. They simply don’t want to. If I protested I am sure that I could have gotten a glass, but it was funnier to go without. As long as they have their fish and rice for the day they have no other concerns. The rest of the day they are perfectly content to sit and gossip (Bengalis are also famous for this). I have thought many times about why Bengalis have such a different attitude towards life. Is it because their lives are not as difficult, and therefore they can afford this behaviour? It can’t be this because the people of Kolkata are more desperate than any other place. Is it because I only saw good examples of Bengali people? It is probably partially this. Is it because of religion? No, they are still Hindu and there is very little difference between all the sects. After consulting with many other Indians I have come to the conclusion that the reason Bengalis have a different attitude is because they are educated. They are not educated in the sense that they know math and science, they are educated in philosophy and art. Education makes the biggest difference in someone’s life. I have seen many good examples of this in India.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri", "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IN; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Now I have been to every corner of India. I experienced<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a taste of every part of India. However, India’s culture is too rich to discover in only one year. I am sure that I am not done exploring it. Tomorrow I leave for Rajhastan again with my family for a wedding and then after that my travelling in India is over. On the fourth I take a short journey to Thailand for the International Rotary Confrence. Then before I know it I am back in the good ole US of A! I am not sad to go back. I want to go back very much, but that does not make leaving any less painful. Life happens on exchange and off of exchange, but it is time to close my Indian chapter and start a new one. I am excited to apply all of the good things I learned here to my American life. Life has to move on. Being an exchange student forces you to embrace the fact that the only constant in life is change</span></div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6892567883252535202.post-79485356394046436462012-04-23T19:50:00.002+04:002012-04-23T19:50:44.398+04:00Apologies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I apologize for not updating my blog in so long! I have not forgotten about you, but I am very busy with my travels. I promise to update it for real very soon. Thank you for your patience and continuing to follow me. Dhanevad</div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6892567883252535202.post-11891473377103873342012-02-29T18:07:00.010+04:002012-03-03T20:00:16.464+04:00North Tour<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Jaislemar-<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Immediately after our 11 hour train ride we put our luggage in our tents and went for a camel ride in the Rhajastani desert. We just barely made it there in time for the sunset, but it’s lucky that we did because watching the sun set on the sand dunes while riding brightly adorned camels with 13 of my best friends was the perfect way to kick off the trip. We reached the top of the dunes and then were shown a traditional Rajasthani folk dance by some locals (for money of course) and then we messed around until it got too dark to stay. Mostly we creatively rolled down the dunes and buried each other in the sand. It’s a shame that we did not have our cameras with us at this time because we found some very hilarious ways to roll down the dunes. When we got back to the “hotel “there was a girl performing Rajasthani dance for us. Since coming to India I have realized that I cannot dance at all. It is kind of like a joke for the rest of the world that Americans cannot dance. Until coming here and living around South Americans and Europeans I had zero idea how far behind I and most Americans were. I have made it my goal to be a good representation for my country and to return as one of the few Americans that are able to dance. So now I never miss an opportunity to learn new dance moves. I asked the Rajasthani girl to teach me dance but it failed miserably. My body is incapable of moving to the same rhythm at the same time as everyone else in this world. I have done enough garbha <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>in my time here that I can do it fairly well, but my friends laugh at me because even though I do the dance correctly I appear like I am dancing to my own song because I am not moving at the same time as everyone else. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess it’s the story of my life. I am incapable of doing anything in the same way as others. Why would dancing be any different. It’s not like this discourages me in any way from trying, because dancing is just too much fun to not do, but we can’t all be good at everything so it’s okay.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtCkiz3yHhpX_hR2Nkgikq59sHEVEUYfBqgp3f_fEE0UuklRyk1hpRvrTXbqLFvjUD__4GF2V1tjepJF8a0SuTcNr0MPvE3QummZXEbod1FTHLBGUYWvQ_fpSCRzAkJWbpX3RCxsJt4z1N/s1600/North+Trip+020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtCkiz3yHhpX_hR2Nkgikq59sHEVEUYfBqgp3f_fEE0UuklRyk1hpRvrTXbqLFvjUD__4GF2V1tjepJF8a0SuTcNr0MPvE3QummZXEbod1FTHLBGUYWvQ_fpSCRzAkJWbpX3RCxsJt4z1N/s320/North+Trip+020.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKgd0zzgvxxeXRekxjV4IHNpA1XZXt4K1TJYToD_IAycAjhSOrSoQyPcBqO6A4lx3mU_0iUUw-O9RD7J0rMBFOQEFgNjIPUEd-4CYgIOZBoHrxf-yzzZbz4AHILcTY-hJmDxyJULmllN8i/s1600/North+Trip+102.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKgd0zzgvxxeXRekxjV4IHNpA1XZXt4K1TJYToD_IAycAjhSOrSoQyPcBqO6A4lx3mU_0iUUw-O9RD7J0rMBFOQEFgNjIPUEd-4CYgIOZBoHrxf-yzzZbz4AHILcTY-hJmDxyJULmllN8i/s320/North+Trip+102.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Rhajastani dancer</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpHHbWp_Pb9QaZBY39z8sU8f4Uu5VARoq7XNB4oEPcPo4kZSekzah6BIRKYYZRhVR8Hqb0sKATbFH6jXgvkGHJ_d2UjFkBC4N2GywhynA7uFBjQZgxnpYn_lKZ9m4k7R6WomfMbTjF5Uby/s1600/North+Trip+289.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpHHbWp_Pb9QaZBY39z8sU8f4Uu5VARoq7XNB4oEPcPo4kZSekzah6BIRKYYZRhVR8Hqb0sKATbFH6jXgvkGHJ_d2UjFkBC4N2GywhynA7uFBjQZgxnpYn_lKZ9m4k7R6WomfMbTjF5Uby/s320/North+Trip+289.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> Jaislemar is sometimes referred to as "The Golden City".<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Jodhpur-<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Jodhpur is famous for being home to the “Blue City”. However only the old city is still painted blue. In ancient times blue house was code for the residence of a High-Brahmin priest. In times of war the enemy would avoid attacking the blue houses, because even in times of war no one would attack a holy man. Later the locals found that the indigo in the paint acted as an insect repellant and then everyone began to paint their house blue. We were only here for one day so apart from this we also saw a beautiful fort and then we did some shopping.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> Sorry, but I don't have a better picture of the blue city on my computer at the moment.</span></span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Jaipur-<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was a long drive from Jodhpur to Jaipur so we arrived late at night. We checked into the hotel and then walked around the markets for a while. The next day we went sight-seeing all day. I will not write about all of it because it is a little boring so I will just put pictures.</span></span><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLmw6jNzOSo0DaibdVHlyTno01zFwPthwNznDp93JM58Bo3ZX9x8EbqP8CPGfJaX7tlTwkwrQn1P7mAuSfyMDOp1Wr1V07ut4t2HeMQr9pVUmluP04BE1vfB90i9pcWoA4h9xSu1_EU9yO/s1600/North+Trip+612.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLmw6jNzOSo0DaibdVHlyTno01zFwPthwNznDp93JM58Bo3ZX9x8EbqP8CPGfJaX7tlTwkwrQn1P7mAuSfyMDOp1Wr1V07ut4t2HeMQr9pVUmluP04BE1vfB90i9pcWoA4h9xSu1_EU9yO/s320/North+Trip+612.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> Byron charming snakes.<br />
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Astrology Tower</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Agra-<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It would be an embarrassment to leave India without seeing the Taj Mahal! I hate feeling like a tourist in India, but for this I made an exception. I thought that I would be disappointed by the Taj Mahal because it is such an over-used icon. I thought it would be just like looking at a picture, but it wasn’t at all. I was impressed by how beautiful it was. In pictures the Taj Mahal looks pure white and flat, but it is actually a beautiful crème color and there is not an inch of marble without intricate carvings from the Koran or flowers. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was strategically built on the bend of a river so in the morning there is a mystical abyss surrounding the palace. It makes it even more beautiful that the palace was a monument to how much the king loved his wife. The lesser known story is that this king actually had three wives. The palace was built for his wife that he had 14 children with, and in commemoration of his other two wives he built two gates at the entrance of the Taj Mahal. That is a serious burn to his other wives. The king also planned to build an identical black Taj Mahal, but when his son heard about this he took his father prisoner. He did not want his father to spend so much of his future money. The king spent his last eight years held captive in the Agra Fort in one room that overlooked the Taj Mahal. It deserves its place as one of the Seven Wonders of the World. If you come to India (which I hope you all do) this is not something to pass up. </span></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha6ETjPgZXShypCCBK4RuBOG5jmEstuyWKJnwVcwQHMDDAnRTBgL43jAE2QebfZPqLoZ-vJd4larjt2qJ7iVuJHANsVPqtIJobdOcn3Fls4rZxBvGaC276dTYcrLocKK8vg5BF_1ojsxe-/s1600/North+Trip+727.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha6ETjPgZXShypCCBK4RuBOG5jmEstuyWKJnwVcwQHMDDAnRTBgL43jAE2QebfZPqLoZ-vJd4larjt2qJ7iVuJHANsVPqtIJobdOcn3Fls4rZxBvGaC276dTYcrLocKK8vg5BF_1ojsxe-/s320/North+Trip+727.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> Characteristic detail work of the Taj Mahal.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOXNIr6nfJIE2ndoqV2cQ7m8551OlL3pP3O9PZFJvwpBJXQ9FIpKeQDVvYMmnNCQvjETB49rWjLGpmI68qotw_tGJrUwEmVqssj3sydr1fvwDhTZ-tYU24M3DgPtS8Jd3Jpo8chl-tOpd8/s1600/425560_341707785867381_100000844877462_928375_292459836_n%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOXNIr6nfJIE2ndoqV2cQ7m8551OlL3pP3O9PZFJvwpBJXQ9FIpKeQDVvYMmnNCQvjETB49rWjLGpmI68qotw_tGJrUwEmVqssj3sydr1fvwDhTZ-tYU24M3DgPtS8Jd3Jpo8chl-tOpd8/s320/425560_341707785867381_100000844877462_928375_292459836_n%5B1%5D.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9wZSyKQxBXTZt5fTjthrj_9y8K_GlRt07i_Csp6Nm3rEhSLoDrs9D7Pn96tTlozo5QOIVpOP6cA31ID0HOXg_5OSptcm-uLHEdArGMRGiGlf0e9rjZP6TpMaRikfwilwVBOvtKqPvijNQ/s1600/North+Trip+Anna+695.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9wZSyKQxBXTZt5fTjthrj_9y8K_GlRt07i_Csp6Nm3rEhSLoDrs9D7Pn96tTlozo5QOIVpOP6cA31ID0HOXg_5OSptcm-uLHEdArGMRGiGlf0e9rjZP6TpMaRikfwilwVBOvtKqPvijNQ/s320/North+Trip+Anna+695.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Awesome reflection pool picture by Anna Kramer.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoM9pxLjNIoXiHc4cPdY_N329K-ntEPPXa10pArFvyYv4h0z6Y-wHQRIesoONj92EWXuAtt3jxTtkr9Rv7b4txtirxUx4pdYOEuH-2zqWJwuHOf16FhqXyHDxzOforQw644xFllHD3Cedh/s1600/429580_341712939200199_100000844877462_928379_115807419_n%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoM9pxLjNIoXiHc4cPdY_N329K-ntEPPXa10pArFvyYv4h0z6Y-wHQRIesoONj92EWXuAtt3jxTtkr9Rv7b4txtirxUx4pdYOEuH-2zqWJwuHOf16FhqXyHDxzOforQw644xFllHD3Cedh/s320/429580_341712939200199_100000844877462_928379_115807419_n%5B1%5D.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Camille and I</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">New Delhi-<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div></div><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The capital of India. We visited all of the famous monuments: the Lotus Temple, Swaminara, the Red Fort, Qutab Minar and India Gate. Most importantly we were reunited with a fellow exchange student. Her name is Maude from Canada. She is alone in her district so she traveled with us for our South Tour. Because of knee problems she was not able to join us on our North Tour. Our group is very close and it is horrible to be missing a member from our group on such an important tour, especially because our time together is so short. It was so great to see her again! I do not understand how she is so successful in her city. I thought that I had big problems in Surat with men acting inappropriately towards me, but Delhi is immensely worse. While walking down the street a girl in our group was causally grabbed even though she was in the company of two male exchange students! Everywhere I go I am stared at, but in Surat 70% of the stares are genuine curiosity. In Delhi 90% of the stares are threatening. I felt shameful to be a woman in this city. I felt objectified and extremely uncomfortable. I bitterly hate this city and I will never return to New Delhi.</span></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo_firFPYiKkvxyuuEUgi3gioEu-R8PaGl76UOkBbUyU0mYes-y8DNHvZHdkwpYXK1XQnqJoBcrVsAWJl4w98r6Ddl16zZ9hSLLT02fbM0zdsEPUYKx-AAlzpQYCMTfm0Kp0o5L0BSs8aK/s1600/North+Trip+789.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo_firFPYiKkvxyuuEUgi3gioEu-R8PaGl76UOkBbUyU0mYes-y8DNHvZHdkwpYXK1XQnqJoBcrVsAWJl4w98r6Ddl16zZ9hSLLT02fbM0zdsEPUYKx-AAlzpQYCMTfm0Kp0o5L0BSs8aK/s320/North+Trip+789.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p> Awesome paratha restaurant,but it was very small!</o:p></span></span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Minali-<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Minali is a village located about three hours up the Himalayan Mountains in the state of Himachal Pradesh. We spent four days here and I am completely enchanted by this village and its people. Many Tibetan and Nepalese refugees flee from their countries to Minali and therefore there is a very strong Buddhist influence. Minali does not feel like India at all. It felt like I was exploring a whole new country and it was exhilarating.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Day 1-<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It took us 16.5 hours to drive to Minali. We left New Delhi at 6:30 at night and arrived in Minali at 1:00pm the next day. Our lunch was not included in our hotel package and since we were all very hungry from the long journey we ventured outside to find some good local food. Because of past issues with negative blog posts about India I have tried to keep my mouth shut about how badly dogs are treated in India, so I never told you how strongly it hurts me to live in a society where dogs are treated worse than trash, but with two and a half months left no one will send me back now. There are almost as many stray dogs as homeless people and they are equally unhealthy. I have seen countless bloated decaying canines mangled and thrown into trash piles. I have seen crows picking the eyes out of 2 month old puppies and dogs with strange skin diseases causing the skin to separate from flesh. It makes me cry that every time I come into contact with a dog they cower in fear and start shaking. No dog should be afraid of humans. Dogs have a very special place in my heart as I am an animal rights activist and very adamant vegetarian. I am sickened by the way a dog’s life is in India. This alone made my adjustment to India at the beginning “not easy”. I was very bitter for a long time against India for its non-chalet attitude towards animal cruelty. It is still a very weak point for me. When I think about the dogs in India it makes me very angry but I understand to the smallest degree why things are this way. India is still a third world county and there are millions of people whom still struggle to simply survive. I understand that logically people’s livelihood should be above that of a dog’s. This absolutely does not at all justify the abuse of dogs, but I understand why dog abuse is at the bottom of Indian people’s priorities. I know this is negative and will offend any Indian who will read it, but it is not wrong to point out the flaws in something. This is how change happens. My country also has many flaws, and I will be the first one to point them out to you. Despite U.S.A’s flaws I am very proud to be an U.S. American and I could never live in another country. I want to very clearly say that I do NOT hate India. Anyways…..now that you have that background information, the dogs in Minali were 100% different. All of them were still strays, but they were treated like town pets. It really warmed my heart to see dogs with life in their eyes. I did not realize until I saw these dogs again how much anger I have because of the treatment of dogs. Being around these dogs made me unspeakably happy. They were playful and healthy and so much fun! We played fetch with snowballs, I wrestled with puppies and one dog even climbed to the top of a mountain with us. After seeing these dogs it made it a bit difficult to return to Surat and it also brought back memories of my puppies which is tough. </span></span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>On this first day we just meandered our way through the city and played with a lot of dogs. We also discovered a Himalayan delicacy called momos. Momos are a Buddhist food very similar to a dumpling. Momos gave us a break from eating Indian food every day and they are the perfect food to eat during the winter. Did I mention that there is still a good foot and a half of snow in Minali? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The cold there was another reminder of home which could in part explain why I was so comfortable there.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Day 2- <o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We made an organized trip through the city to visit all of the Buddhist temples and ate a lot more momos! It was a leisurely day, but the city is stunning! It is surrounded by snow-capped mountain peaks at every side.</span></span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Day 3-<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In the morning we wandered around the town and did some shopping. After, we searched for a place where we could eat momos for lunch. It was a Buddhist festival day so most of the restaurants were closed. After a while of walking we found a little lonely restaurant in the Old Minali. He said that he was about to close his restaurant, but that he would serve us chai. However we did not want chai, we wanted momos. He then suggested that there was another town two miles away that might be open to serve lunch. The only problem was that we had to hike through the mountains for two miles to get there. At the time it felt like a good idea. There was a good reason that all the trekking trips in Minali were canceled. The snow was very deep and was starting to turn into slush.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were not walking up a designated path either. We were just walking up a random side of the mountain. None of us were wearing appropriate clothes or shoes to hike up the Himalayan Mountains. It was also not what I would call easy climbing. After about 3 miles with no town in sight we started to get skeptical about how close the town was. The snow was also starting to get above our waist. I stepped in some very deep snow and as I pulled my right foot out I twisted my ankle. Yup. I twisted my ankle 3 miles up the Himalayas. After this we decided it was probably a good time to turn back the way we came. I basically had to fall my way down the mountain while trying to keep steady on the arm of a fellow exchange student who was a certified life guard. Random fact for you: life guarding training does not prepare one to help victims of twisted ankles in the Himalayan Mountains. I felt like such an idiot for hurting my ankle 3 miles up in the Himalayas (not that it was on purpose). I got through it by thinking, “This will be a good story someday!”. So I hope you all enjoyed my idiocy and pain. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To make it better we went back to the restaurant where we had originally asked for momos, and somehow the restaurant was not closed and magically had momos and chai! FML. When we returned to our hotel that night we read in the Lonely Planet that in Minali one should never trust the directions of the locals because they are a very bad judge of distance. In the last five years (or something close to that) 18 foreigners have disappeared in the mountains and their bodies were never recovered. We were not in any real danger, but who knows! Maybe if I didn’t twist my ankle we would have gone a lot farther until it was too late to turn back and we were lost. That is a very big “What if” but it is scary to think about. So after my momo therapy we walked back into town and caught a rickshaw to a natural hot springs. After a day of wet feet and snowy mountains a hot springs sounded like a fantastic idea. However, between our cold-bitten feet and the steaming hot springs it was much too hot to swim in. I could only dunk my feet in for a maximum of 13 seconds, and that was with clenching my teeth. Only one of us was brave/stupid enough to even attempt to immerse themselves in the springs, and of course it was a fellow American. He looked at the camera and said “My name is Byron Long from Jack Ass and this is Hot Springs!”. He took one step into the pool and cringed, but then he slipped and except for his face he was completely covered by the water. He screamed in a very high octave and then scrambled as fast as he could back to the stairs to get out. My gosh, the video is priceless! Intelligent or not, I give him all of my respect. He claims that the water singed some hair off. There was definitely some hair missing, but I am not sure if scolding water can do that. I do think that the water was hot enough to easily poach an egg. I think I believe him. To try to normalize our body temperatures again we drank some chai at a local restaurant and waited for a bus. Since Minali attracts many tourists there was a western bakery there, and I had a chocolate donut! I never thought a donut could make me so happy. I do not even like donuts, but western food is really exciting to me now. I really like Indian food a lot, but since I eat it every day it is nice to change. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Day 4- <o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Between the third night and the fourth morning everyone except me managed to get at least slightly sick. Many blamed the momos, which it could not be for two reasons. 1- Momos are too delicious to ever do anyone any harm. 2- I ate more momos than anyone else and I was completely fine. I was really surprised that I wasn’t sick because I fall sick very fast in India. Maybe now after being sick so many times my immune system is like a warrior. I have had food poisoning many times in India and now my body is able to recognize when food is not okay fast. My body does not waste time trying to digest my food it just rejects anything at all questionable. I do not enjoy this sensation, but it is much better than being off my feet for a couple of days. So for this day there were only 6 out of the 14 who were willing to go out and explore that day. Manjeet (our tour guide) took us to a friend’s ski resort. Even though there is a ski resort in my region of USA I have never actually tried skiing before. The Himalayas did not feel like a good place to start learning because I know skiing is difficult, and that in all likelihood I would not be able to move on my skis. Instead of skiing I saw a giant bouncy ball that I could be pushed down the mountain in. Why would I ski down the Himalayan Mountains when I could be pushed down them in a giant bouncy ball? When you put it like this skiing sounds boring. Many people can say that they have skied down the Himalayas, but I am one of the elite few who can say that they rolled down the Himalayas two times in a giant bouncy ball! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also went paragliding. The view was beyond surreal. These two things did not take up much time so I had some extra time to build a snowman for my Brazilian friend who has never seen snow before. It did not have gloves or lot of time so the snowman was small, but since it is her first and only snow for a long time I tried my best to give her a good example. By the end of our ski trip everyone was sick except for me so that was pretty much the end of our adventure for this day. This was our last day in Minali so we had to get everything that night. Anna was okay enough to go with me to the city of Minali twenty minutes away to shop for all of the people who were sick. Minali had these incredibly colorful ethnic hand-knitted wool socks that a lot of us brought back for presents. Anna and I bought a lot of those to distribute among the exchange students. We also bought Tibetan Prayer flags and seven kgs. of fruit. We have a tradition of instead of stopping to eat, we just buy pounds and pounds of fruit to eat on the bus. This is one of the things I will miss dearly from India. In USA fruit is very expensive and there is not a fruitwala at every corner selling a kg. of deliciously fresh and exotic fruit for $0.75. Sometimes I just eat bag-fulls of fruit when I am hungry. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Day 5-<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We woke up at 5:00am to make an extra stop to Daramshala(the home of the Dali Lama and the Tibetan resistance against China). This was not in our itinerary but it would be a shame to be within six hours of it and not to visit it. It was a long winding drive through the mountains to get there, but I am glad to have seen it. I can’t say that I am impressed by the city, but it was interesting to see... The Dali Lama and the Pope are the two highest holy figures of the world, but Dharanmshala was a scene hang out for stoner hippies. I can’t deny that I am a bit of a hippy myself. I am in India for a year, I was a vegan and I go to extreme lengths to protect nature, but hippies have ruined Dharamshala. There was marijuana and hookas everywhere. There were more weirdo western hippie fusion restaurants than Tibetan or Indian restaurants. Everyone had dreadlocks and dressed like they were homeless. I have no idea where I was. It was not India at all. It was like someone set up an amusement park of what they thought India was. The Dali Lama’s temple was equally confusing. I do not have any exposure to Buddhism so of course the temple would appear strange to me, but it was too strange. I can’t tell you why because I also do not know. I have no idea what I saw in this city. I was very aware of the Tibetan Chinese conflict before I came. I did my best to avoid buying Chinese products and so on. I did not learn any more about the cause than before, and I am no more inspired. I think I just walked around the city in a daze. Maybe there was too much smoke in the air from the stoner foreigners. I don’t know. One thing I learned from the city is that I have a no respect for hippie culture. I will never again identify myself as a hippie. Hippies are just people whom complain about the government and “fight” for non-existent causes by getting stoned. They are completely blind to their actions and ruin every culture they are a part of including USA. I am still very confused by what I saw in Daramshala, but like I said it was very interesting to see.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Chandagar, Punjab- <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Driving from Daramshala to Punjab was another eight hour drive. Our tour guide brought us here to attend a wedding of one her friends. We were supposed to stay at a hotel that the bride’s family owned, but for some reason that did not work out. So after two nights of sleep on the bus, we had to sleep on the bus again, but at least they gave us strange-smelling comforters to sleep with. Somehow there was room for the boys to sleep in the hotel, so it was just the girls who had to sleep on the bus. It was a very short night though because we had to wake up at 7:00 for the wedding day breakfast. After our breakfast we were taken to an Osho ashram where we were to spend that night. For anyone who knows who this guy is I am sure you are laughing right now after my hippie comment earlier. Speaking of not respecting hippie culture Osho is the father of the modern hippie religion. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a very interesting place to spend a night. The basis of this “religion” is nothing is bad, and one should do what the heart wants because that is the wisdom of the true inner self and guide to the right path. On a basic level this works. I agree with this idea, BUT as the ideology continues it gets screwed up. The problem is not the ideal ology but the people who are attracted to this “religion”. Osho’s “wisdom” can be interpreted in twisted ways. Nothing weird happed except for at 4:00am we all woke up to a bunch of synchronized screaming coming from the meditation room. Actually for India this is not that strange. It was a cool place to stay. At the wedding we learned a ridiculous shoulder dance that Punjab is famous for, and Anna Camille and I performed an impromptu Bollywood dance number for the wedding crowd. Other than this the wedding was uneventful. The city of Chandigarh was planned by a famous French architect, and it is famous for being one of the few planned cities of India. It was strange to walk the streets of Chandnagar because it felt a lot like walking the streets of a western country. The streets were paved with clean sidewalks, beautiful GREEN parks, and chain stores. Between Manali, Daramshala and Chandnagar I felt like I was out of India. </span></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2OR8grYD-xVQ73r58ZsDCgPKfqLdz2jz4HuvCZbqOww9d-pqW-9srbCy4PmO6buw2nKT-y0VfGfchOuFzDXU_pz3cPnPtZtNx3DcffufvMtGD9OtXKld-yKNZhm4r407Ga04j5oS-eLLg/s1600/422782_341727859198707_100000844877462_928403_30472578_n%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2OR8grYD-xVQ73r58ZsDCgPKfqLdz2jz4HuvCZbqOww9d-pqW-9srbCy4PmO6buw2nKT-y0VfGfchOuFzDXU_pz3cPnPtZtNx3DcffufvMtGD9OtXKld-yKNZhm4r407Ga04j5oS-eLLg/s320/422782_341727859198707_100000844877462_928403_30472578_n%5B1%5D.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p> Almost all of us at the Punjabi Wedding</o:p></span></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Train- </span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Just like that it is back to Surat. This was our last real time together with the exchange students. I have talked about this before, but I will never again have friends like this. We are all exceptional people and I have grown just as much from knowing them as being in India. The next time we see each other it will be at our Bon Voyage party in April. It is horribly sad to think about leaving everyone, but I know life has to move on. We are all invited to each other’s weddings in the future, but who knows where we will be in that time. I think some of us will end up doing some very crazy things with our lives. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am strangely eager for life to move on. This year was the most important year of my life, but I am very excited to go back home and see how I have grown and continue my life. </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I realize I am not going home for a while, but I am far past the middle of my exchange and now it really feels like the end.</span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div><br />
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</div></div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6892567883252535202.post-68891934363393757562012-02-08T20:12:00.001+04:002012-02-08T20:13:11.167+04:00My Schedule.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Let me lay out my last three months here. This Saturday I leave for 15 days for my Rotary Tour through Northern India. I come back March 1<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">st</span></sup> and either the first or second week of March we leave again for 6 days on a self-organized tour of Gujarat (my state). Then I learn everything I can in my college until April 6<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup>. On April 7<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> I leave with my best friend Camille and her family to Kolkata for two weeks. We come back on April 23<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">rd</span></sup> and within the next week all the exchange students gather together for the last time to say goodbye. Most exchange students leave mid to late May. I leave somewhere between May 20<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> and June 1<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">st</span></sup>. On May 6<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th </span></sup>to May 14<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> I go to Bangkok Thailand for the International Rotary Conference (AKA I am going to roam Bangkok with all the other exchange students). Then I pack up and go back to USA. There is no more time for me to start new things. I have to finish everything I started. My feelings are extremely mixed right now. I think I have really embraced the cliché “Change is the only constant in life”. I have been going from house to house living in a suitcase travelling everywhere for one year. Sad is not the word I would use to describe about me leaving India. It’s not because I don’t like India but I really feel like it’s time for me to come home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did everything I should have with my time here and I will treasure my time here forever. I can never forget India but times change and my India chapter is done. There is nothing sad about this India experience being done. It was the most beautiful thing that I have done, but life has to move on. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My life does not end after India is done. When I go back I will have graduation, my old job and FAMILY! If there is one thing I learned here in Asia it is how to adjust to ANYTHING and to learn to be happy in any situation. Life happens on exchange and out of it. I will yet again face adversity when I go back, but I will adjust and make the best of it. This is what life is about! Life will never work out the way you want it to, but you have to learn to not fight against. Besides I know that I will come back to India someday :)</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent that survives. It is the one that is the most adaptable to change.”-Charles Darwin<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So I was actually writing to tell you all that you might not hear from me on my blog for a while. I will be pretty busy. I do not know when I can post again but it will definitely be before June 1<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">st</span></sup>. hahahahaha. Check back in the middle of March!</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Much love from India <3 Jai Shree Krishna.<o:p></o:p></span></div></div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6892567883252535202.post-82857176825593770312012-02-06T22:16:00.002+04:002012-02-08T08:06:22.841+04:00Wedding Part II<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Indian weddings are very difficult to describe because the procedures are drastically different depending on the caste and sub-caste of the couple. It is also depends on if one is partaking in the ceremonies of the bride or the groom. The wedding I went to was on the groom’s side. My Rotary president took two other exchange students and I along with him which is very kind. My president Ashish Uncle was the mama (brother of the groom’s mom) and therefore he had some special ceremonies in the wedding which I will explain later. This was fantastic because for 5 days Anna Camille and I stayed in the same house and did everything together all day </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> I really cannot imagine leaving them in 3 months. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Day 2<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">- Mendhai and Dandya Ras</b><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Mendhai is what most of you know as henna. For the wedding ceremonies the immediate female family members of both the bride and the groom need elaborate mendhai. On this day ten or eleven mendhai “professionals” come to the house of both the bride and groom for the morning until the afternoon to put on mendhai for the family members which included me!<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>At night was the real celebration. Dandya Ras is a traditional Indian dance party. All of the family and friends gather outside the groom’s house and throw a “party”. There is a band playing traditional garbha songs and everyone plays. I love how Indians say that they play garba and not “dance” garbha, but it is fitting because they appear like they are playing. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Garbha is the same dance that is done at Navratri which I posted about back in October. There is also dandya (the dance where people hit sticks together) and BOLLYWOOD!!! I am in love with Bollywood music and Bollywood dancing. There is no match for the unique energy Bollywood music brings. I think that Bollywood music should be more popular throughout the world. It was the basic eating and dancing but it was very fun. I love learning how to dance like Indians do because they are crazy good dancers. The only deeper significance of this day is that this day is supposed to kick off the festive atmosphere.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Day 3- <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Lagan Git</b><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Lagan means wedding and Git means song. On this night the family gathered together to perform wedding and family themed songs for the couple. The wedding couple also performs some songs. Most of the acts are very comical and it is just for fun. In a strange turn of events Camille, Anna, Devu and I also performed a dance. Indian people LOVE when foreigners do Indian things so the day before they asked us to perform something. Luckily we have learned a few dances together for a Rotary Conference. Our song had absolutely nothing to do with a wedding or family but just the fact that we tried means a lot to Indian people and they are happy with anything we do. We performed Chikini Chemmele which is about a girl going to a club to get money and alcohol, and we performed Chammak Chalo which is Akon purposing for some girl to be his sexy little dancer. They were both very sexy and a little like belly dancing, so we felt very strange to wildly swing our hips in front of a crowd of predominately 80 year old old-fashioned Indian people. It was a very strange experience to belly dance for a hundred elderly Indians but it is a good memory. People really enjoyed it and asked us to do it again so we must not have offended anyone too much. It was definitely one of the more awkward things that I’ve done, but it’s an experience and that’s what I came here for!<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Day 4- <strong>Ganesh Sthapna and wedding ceremony!!!<o:p></o:p></strong></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The first ceremony of this day is in the morning. The mama (mom’s brother) on both sides wake up the bride and groom early in the morning to perform Pithi. Pithi means the family covers the bride or groom to be with turmeric. Turmeric is supposed to give the skin a beautiful glow for the wedding day. I am not sure it works but it makes the bride and groom look like oompa lompas and therefore it is great fun.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The next big ceremony is Ganesh Sthapna.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a Ganesh pooja (prayer) that invites Ganesh to the wedding because Ganesh is supposed to be a part of anything that is good or happy. Inside this pooja (prayer) there is another pooja called Grashanta. Grasanta is the pooja to bring peace to the house the newlyweds will stay in. Grashanta literally translates to house peace.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As part of the Grashata pooja the mama (mom’s brother) gives the bride and groom the clothes that they will wear for the wedding. In more traditional times the mama chose the clothes for the wedding but now the bride and groom choose their clothes and then give it to the mama to present to them on this day.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">LAGAN!!!!!! (The wedding ceremony)<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The wedding party meet the groom at his house put him in a horse and carriage and then dance their way to the wedding destination. This ceremony is specific to only the groom’s side. My friends and I got to participate in this and it was very fun. I have seen many of these processions that are very awkward looking because everyone is in front of the beautiful horse and carriage and there are speakers blaring music but no one is dancing. Usually there is that one person at the front who tries to energize the crowd but it doesn’t work, but the one I was at was very lively. Everyone was dancing and bursting fireworks. When the groom arrives at the ceremony he is carried out of his carriage by all of his friends and then there is some more dancing. I have heard that at many weddings there is a tradition where the bride’s family who is already at the wedding is not supposed to allow the groom’s family to enter the ceremony grounds. In the very traditional days the bride’s family made the groom’s family pay before they were allowed inside. However at this wedding it did not happen. The bride and groom enter the ceremony together but the groom has more special traditions. The mother of the bride symbolically tries to blow the groom’s nose and the groom’s family is not supposed to let her. This supposed to be the groom’s family telling the bride’s family that their son is not part of her family. I think most people are aware that after marriage the girl is no longer part of her family. She has no duty to her natural parents anymore. This is the main reason why there is still a horrible problem with baby girls being murdered by their family. This is very not common among the upper class but it is still normal in the economically depressed. This is why it is illegal to have a doctor tell an expecting mother the sex of her baby. In this ceremony it is a fun thing, but the original meaning is very negative. After this ceremony the bride and groom are ushered onto the stage to perform the ceremony by the priest. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A priest makes a special fire on stage and the couple walks around it seven times while the priest chants in Sanskrit. It is our equivalent to “Do you take your pride to have and to hold through better and worse…..” No one is aware what the translation from Sanskrit is. The groom put a Mangal Sutva on the bride which is a necklace to signify the bride’s marital status.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The groom then puts sindur powder in the bride’s hairline which is another symbol of marital status. Women are supposed to continue to put this sindur powder every day, but few do. The last ceremony is Hast Melap. Hast means hand and melap mens meeting. There is a cloth over the bride and groom’s hands and they hold hands for the first time. I am sure in modern times it is not the first time they touched, but by traditional standards the bride and groom were not supposed to touch before they were married. The cloth is put over the hands because long ago it was unacceptable to see a man and a woman holding hands. After this all the ceremonies are complete and the couple is married! </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhFQPX_Viung4WxKfDMmvRSlt29XqnOu9jbR4WpxP4sgVCRUZ644HMiFeO6Zc5RdI-3dLScy2H0KnhyphenhyphenoNQEmOkiRoRcG6hdic1SQwETQKEzwE0mka0dZtVeMpWD049v2MVMtMmAtqJ8M-J/s1600/wedding+058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhFQPX_Viung4WxKfDMmvRSlt29XqnOu9jbR4WpxP4sgVCRUZ644HMiFeO6Zc5RdI-3dLScy2H0KnhyphenhyphenoNQEmOkiRoRcG6hdic1SQwETQKEzwE0mka0dZtVeMpWD049v2MVMtMmAtqJ8M-J/s320/wedding+058.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is Devu my best Indian friend whom I would be lost without playing Dandya :) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkdw1u0_9QFttcOXP9VhU5JdNS86LZA-Jj2nFXk-TdFxOSiu6rK_OereRxhiQMTZ_3mn-7Yqm4v0_YDRwgaX8OxZyZ_P6gHjRHt36CRFra4Bmit1ZK7L0AP2bZyD-sUKqHKfCKkUzf4a7j/s1600/wedding+118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkdw1u0_9QFttcOXP9VhU5JdNS86LZA-Jj2nFXk-TdFxOSiu6rK_OereRxhiQMTZ_3mn-7Yqm4v0_YDRwgaX8OxZyZ_P6gHjRHt36CRFra4Bmit1ZK7L0AP2bZyD-sUKqHKfCKkUzf4a7j/s320/wedding+118.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Our mendhai!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg2duN5LBPX-L-_i788IuiKkMegAR-wdRHchEjVjRRz3bEJ4qpkJTgHUTFBy_PD-JL8q8Yf6cLYVknJF7bMvwafpKJPQ9ltparlUjsLdNZSzx2efBoegKNneOnN0_u22nUgJxt3orb-70g/s1600/wedding+153.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg2duN5LBPX-L-_i788IuiKkMegAR-wdRHchEjVjRRz3bEJ4qpkJTgHUTFBy_PD-JL8q8Yf6cLYVknJF7bMvwafpKJPQ9ltparlUjsLdNZSzx2efBoegKNneOnN0_u22nUgJxt3orb-70g/s320/wedding+153.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Pithi</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1z6ggYCBuvXBxwDbkQw29fBnLy5W1Oujt1H9_Nkidqap8gjgGyib4UN6LzXjeu9uWaiQv6UNFc_ZFMzW6wNtdkHx17eZzFTRArqjSD_R8iKIKofpBxMxlbXVWtBH7wb5lLLCoAMLeqaMN/s1600/wedding+161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1z6ggYCBuvXBxwDbkQw29fBnLy5W1Oujt1H9_Nkidqap8gjgGyib4UN6LzXjeu9uWaiQv6UNFc_ZFMzW6wNtdkHx17eZzFTRArqjSD_R8iKIKofpBxMxlbXVWtBH7wb5lLLCoAMLeqaMN/s320/wedding+161.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">also Pithi</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNsbBclhEcciMgVPwfpVb1IkjkPO7WouGm0DaDeTRGvzRRHS2pPBA-lMIKDIuWSaE71TiWdzs2vk1_sHkKc7XWf3cV68EB3jaubJsUzCJiwjQ2eHi9CR2_4jZYypo-qkPI5YM2CDD6_hie/s1600/wedding+459.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNsbBclhEcciMgVPwfpVb1IkjkPO7WouGm0DaDeTRGvzRRHS2pPBA-lMIKDIuWSaE71TiWdzs2vk1_sHkKc7XWf3cV68EB3jaubJsUzCJiwjQ2eHi9CR2_4jZYypo-qkPI5YM2CDD6_hie/s320/wedding+459.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">dancing in the street before the wedding</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXPnbP8fxMiktzLpnQCCnHUXokJqPuyXh4FqXx166444YC5b-24p6Sf_tf6oIR7rlzUDJO_ruxMzsy0ULE49aMdc4bhbM_jYmBpxKl2jp5X3RsNRDSZ6fNTU2aJJCwp5MTmJZkqKO9IAis/s1600/wedding+510.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXPnbP8fxMiktzLpnQCCnHUXokJqPuyXh4FqXx166444YC5b-24p6Sf_tf6oIR7rlzUDJO_ruxMzsy0ULE49aMdc4bhbM_jYmBpxKl2jp5X3RsNRDSZ6fNTU2aJJCwp5MTmJZkqKO9IAis/s320/wedding+510.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">the mother of the bride blowing the groom's nose.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7f4P5E7xbvkY5sErqFgbm5GZbybtVoCMEJwjuQa5DxsLkHju2pmgpXKaNzkQzPak08XQS4HprYw6JcsXA1YxQSl8nfsNOukQhOosXxk3M6SJU9ekBA5FB1kcR_ePfhsWk-zcTBVuAGQmT/s1600/wedding+582.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7f4P5E7xbvkY5sErqFgbm5GZbybtVoCMEJwjuQa5DxsLkHju2pmgpXKaNzkQzPak08XQS4HprYw6JcsXA1YxQSl8nfsNOukQhOosXxk3M6SJU9ekBA5FB1kcR_ePfhsWk-zcTBVuAGQmT/s320/wedding+582.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">the wedding couple</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizeNjtIAGmnKL1kAg0T5pLVXt0yIftVX5h08rpe8NOCnnkOTp2VUb0GetqNEpCUPdF7AebZqCxs1ruEnudjlB88BPY4E0wWnMmiwma_20m21wmHjWBgvAmFFOX1qoTG60PiJTF8CyYCxc4/s1600/wedding+713.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizeNjtIAGmnKL1kAg0T5pLVXt0yIftVX5h08rpe8NOCnnkOTp2VUb0GetqNEpCUPdF7AebZqCxs1ruEnudjlB88BPY4E0wWnMmiwma_20m21wmHjWBgvAmFFOX1qoTG60PiJTF8CyYCxc4/s320/wedding+713.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
the reception party workers. They were so beautiful!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB1ArmiOi5haMGAI5qaqELZW3y2P4KFfC3bu4XeIjH5P_Cjel11Ln5tzYUettRHDJhXYCu7C1rVfDGU6sOOIMLS6BzPhs4pftYfe7lNtNyy3zYK7MGqZFgsVCPz4u0I31VA-zGyJ-ruhdl/s1600/wedding+763.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB1ArmiOi5haMGAI5qaqELZW3y2P4KFfC3bu4XeIjH5P_Cjel11Ln5tzYUettRHDJhXYCu7C1rVfDGU6sOOIMLS6BzPhs4pftYfe7lNtNyy3zYK7MGqZFgsVCPz4u0I31VA-zGyJ-ruhdl/s320/wedding+763.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I look like a giant in India :P</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzYQ4coej4sz6RjHCqzRvXdPBiEuIcT-G760ZcVw1_tBkDZv_J976-gajAf_la4agE8Ze44A1qNi33Zg2z75qK0RTr1jGf8dUO2kJQGwB_Zy3R3_4E6jaExR3mNZS-_vLDfCNUANkMr9hd/s1600/wedding+625.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzYQ4coej4sz6RjHCqzRvXdPBiEuIcT-G760ZcVw1_tBkDZv_J976-gajAf_la4agE8Ze44A1qNi33Zg2z75qK0RTr1jGf8dUO2kJQGwB_Zy3R3_4E6jaExR3mNZS-_vLDfCNUANkMr9hd/s320/wedding+625.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is how the food for the wedding is prepared.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div></div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6892567883252535202.post-66297618607057308782012-01-25T18:57:00.000+04:002012-01-25T18:57:09.656+04:00Hindu Wedding Part I<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now is my chance! `I am getting the opportunity to take part in every day of a Hindu wedding!!!!! Yesterday began the official ceremonies. It was an informal meeting of all the family of both sides at the groom’s house. Together we all made little balls of vadi which after drying will be made into a sabji (vegetable dish) for us all to share. My friend explained to me that in very ancient times when people were very poor they<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>did this ceremony with the family because it was not in the budget to take people out to eat. Basically it was supposed to be a nice treat. Everyone from the bride’s side is also supposed to bring the groom something sweet like chocolates because it brings good fortune to the couple. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We ate a nice lunch and then the first ceremony was complete! This was not the most important day this simply kicked off the festivities. Now there is no ceremony for two days. Next there will be a dancing ceremony, a mendhai ceremony and a reception! And don’t worry I will add a lot of pictures! Jai Shree Krishna.<o:p></o:p></span></div></div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6892567883252535202.post-61918670650285799212012-01-23T20:44:00.002+04:002012-01-23T20:44:59.192+04:00Decisions Decisions!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I now have to choose my return date. I am so conflicted about this. I think I will come back for my graduation on June 1<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">st</span></sup> but that is so soon! Now my schedule is very busy. I am going on my North Tour from February 11<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> until Mach 1<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">st</span></sup> and then two days later I leave for another week for a tour of Gujarat (my state). For two weeks of April I am going on a trip with my best friend and her family to Kolkata. Then for one week in May I am visiting Thailand for a Rotary convention and then a week and a half later I am thinking about leaving! That really only leaves March for me to do things in Surat with my college! I feel like I haven’t learned half of the things that I needed to! I don’t have yoga, dance, I haven’t gotten my future read and I am HORRIBLE with the language. I still feel like there is so much left here for me, but I think no matter how much time I have here I will always feel this way. I will never feel that I am finished here. The important thing for me to remember is that I did not come here to learn about yoga, mendhai or astrology. I came here to learn about myself. I made a million mistakes here. My year was far from perfect. I don’t have perfect relations with all of my families. I cannot communicate on a basic level with Hindi or Gujarati, and I still know very little about Indian religions. But when I think back to the first couple of months when it was too difficult for me to cross the street and I cried almost every day <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>because I was being harassed by men on the street I can see how far I have come and how much I have changed. If I had to go home tomorrow I will still say that I had a successful exchange. I would not change any mistake I made because those mistakes made me who I am. I am so proud of the woman I have become here. I will forget about mendhai and dance within a year but India will have everlasting effects on my character. My exchange doesn’t really end when I leave India. I will always be an exchange student. I will draw observations from this year for the rest of my life. Readjustment to American culture is a vital part of the exchange too, and it’s difficult. I am as nervous to return as I was to come here. It’s like I can never go home again. My home is the same, but I am very different. After everything I did this year I know that I can handle anything life throws at me. I am ready for the challenge! But it’s not time for this yet! I still have 4 months left! It’s time to live it up! I am still designing things in my college and I still have all of India to travel! This is no time for tears! I’ve got a life to live! Jai Shree Krishna<o:p></o:p></span></div></div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6892567883252535202.post-33123252583574559922012-01-08T21:59:00.000+04:002012-01-08T21:59:28.554+04:00Kutch<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The government of Gujarat sponsored all 15 exchange students to go the Rann of Kutch Desert Festival last week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a great way to kick off the New <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Year! Unfortunately I was recovering from a wicked virus, but as long as I am with other exchange students everything is perfect! The government of Gujarat only allows for people to come to this specific part of the desert once a year. The culture of this place is rich and beautiful. It is still very primitive but since the earthquake in 2000 it is slowly developing. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By far the most captivating thing I saw was the “White” Desert. It is located very close to the boarder of Pakistan and India (very unfriendly neighbors). It was the most peculiar sight to be driving down a stretch of hot sandy desert and then drive into what appeared to be Antarctica. Under this desert lies what once were the shores of the Arabian Sea. Because of this a centimeter layer of pure salt rises to the top and forms a crust that despite the heat can easily be mistaken for ice. At night when the sun is softly setting and the white glow of the moon takes its place the desert looks like heaven.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A soft peaceful white abyss is the only thing for kilometers around you. The sky and earth are completely obscured. It looks as if one followed the light from the sun he would stumble upon the Pearly Gates of Heaven. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or maybe it is purgatory….. In the morning it is the opposite. When the fiery deep orange sun clashes against the faux icy surface it looks like hell. I could have only imagined such a landscape in a painting by Salvador Dali. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In <u>Man in the Landscape </u>Paul Shepard wrote:</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><em>“The desert is the environment of revelation, genetically and physiologically alien, sensorily austere, esthetically abstract, historically inimical…..To the desert go prophets and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>hermits;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>through deserts go pilgrims and exiles. Here the leaders of the great religions have sought the therapeutic and spiritual values of retreat, not to escape but to find reality.” <o:p></o:p></em></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The power of this desert is undeniable. I regret not having the opportunity to spend more time in it. I would have relished a whole day in that desert to walk and journal my thoughts. I am luckier than most to at least have a glimpse. However we did other fun things. We visited a few small villages where they displayed their traditional crafts. We visited a modern Indian palace. We went to the Arabian Sea where we rode on camels and horses then drank coconuts. Both nights we were at this festival there were special performances done by locals. I never mentioned it in my blog but for the district conference on Christmas the IYE students gave a big performance for all the Rotarians. In this performance were two dances; one traditional and one Bollywood. Even though we were not scheduled or asked to we gave a performance of both of these dances to the other tourists in Kutch. Indian people really appreciate when foreigners embrace their culture, and the dance is so fun! We are making a music video of our Bollywood dance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We spontaneously perform this dance in strange places for example the desert and the Taj Mahal and at the end of our journey we will compress the best clips into one video.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think this video will be epic! I promise to show you all as soon as it is finished ^^<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a few days is a kite festival known as Uttarayan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The origin of the festival is based in astrology. On January 14<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> and 15<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> the sun starts to move north which marks the start of Indian “winter”. It is celebrated by everyone coming outside to eat, fly kites and have kite “wars”. A kite war is when one person tries to cut another person’s kite down with their kite string. This does not seem plausible with American kites but in India the string is actually made from stretched glass……that’s pretty hardcore! I cut my hands just trying to fly the kite! I will tell you more about the festival after I have celebrated. Until <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>then. Namaste. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4U0jN0b-y0OHdUdVI8XONDkXvuC84EnlDPuwW6ENG1f7f8fBDLWn0RWfB7W9ViWP_nQkfQeNlwzro6YqzJSYc6nz2GwfvQQvevCUiVOJjrQlpb3XVj8C8Dc1kKxb8BUi6_R9LD-1n8bLA/s1600/White+Desert+183.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4U0jN0b-y0OHdUdVI8XONDkXvuC84EnlDPuwW6ENG1f7f8fBDLWn0RWfB7W9ViWP_nQkfQeNlwzro6YqzJSYc6nz2GwfvQQvevCUiVOJjrQlpb3XVj8C8Dc1kKxb8BUi6_R9LD-1n8bLA/s320/White+Desert+183.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div></div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6892567883252535202.post-89722506976009377552011-12-28T20:14:00.001+04:002012-01-08T22:04:57.237+04:00Pictures are worth 1,000 words...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWh0Slix5V_nR0a_u1-qu6MebVujiNfy0tH6mziEBEAsnUE-9RM0gL4vS73zl_A0RzN36LypfzAu0jdH75P_91QYjQ_uaHu566VJeB4_kMq2iOQuX5Xzn3f-PB8cmgcu3ah6vRCqesTfgN/s1600/176.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWh0Slix5V_nR0a_u1-qu6MebVujiNfy0tH6mziEBEAsnUE-9RM0gL4vS73zl_A0RzN36LypfzAu0jdH75P_91QYjQ_uaHu566VJeB4_kMq2iOQuX5Xzn3f-PB8cmgcu3ah6vRCqesTfgN/s320/176.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Coconuts in Goa with Georg!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOpgYhvNlJOOVsuabzs9VOUz7lJHCNYNAeLFW5lHstnfnHDKb_GoQlU1iqkgtnQ5MbEbnMQ6FrFClj8vEnFHaTn4YUtNh85dKhRhVvpDeZj3lu31kfyYFSRiJpol3mPHblBT0SIX-qpN7n/s1600/275.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOpgYhvNlJOOVsuabzs9VOUz7lJHCNYNAeLFW5lHstnfnHDKb_GoQlU1iqkgtnQ5MbEbnMQ6FrFClj8vEnFHaTn4YUtNh85dKhRhVvpDeZj3lu31kfyYFSRiJpol3mPHblBT0SIX-qpN7n/s320/275.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> My best friend and I on the beaches of Goa.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyAwDqsDFT-7bRI-oKjo2H71drKKQGY0g-PlvTKzQKfy-TXpv_WY_pOAjILl8PCcLKRtB06kfHr5cK9vTCzEsJnW4jM8iNUeZS512uB5uIKVdMYFTUBY1qJ9eXicZomnzDwhY1HxRlHb0N/s1600/579.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyAwDqsDFT-7bRI-oKjo2H71drKKQGY0g-PlvTKzQKfy-TXpv_WY_pOAjILl8PCcLKRtB06kfHr5cK9vTCzEsJnW4jM8iNUeZS512uB5uIKVdMYFTUBY1qJ9eXicZomnzDwhY1HxRlHb0N/s200/579.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbjV3mXl2fi5OvK6rkVjfvtv5OnchMHVycy3Edd-1KUaUddmSizqmr81RzFpakiIKij4mUV_PFDFNQ-lbh2lxnd8Yhh1_pQOyFrETx4wCqNVwA9AsvHANz6LBk6-B1JdFyjJZ6FMlvMDxY/s1600/606.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbjV3mXl2fi5OvK6rkVjfvtv5OnchMHVycy3Edd-1KUaUddmSizqmr81RzFpakiIKij4mUV_PFDFNQ-lbh2lxnd8Yhh1_pQOyFrETx4wCqNVwA9AsvHANz6LBk6-B1JdFyjJZ6FMlvMDxY/s320/606.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUFBMpcsyUsBSzwM9x5EHtbSfecCh-Tw1SBmYF_4yXIgT84c1eqdzafNWbsADdW9syIMTCPlRR_-WxnBqKEoQ9GBFqbRH4vzEftay01wxacFsS7ItGDRzIWcI24UJTRkS_44U-yRix-g6j/s1600/794.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUFBMpcsyUsBSzwM9x5EHtbSfecCh-Tw1SBmYF_4yXIgT84c1eqdzafNWbsADdW9syIMTCPlRR_-WxnBqKEoQ9GBFqbRH4vzEftay01wxacFsS7ItGDRzIWcI24UJTRkS_44U-yRix-g6j/s320/794.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGiVB6GDs_zEBbKQSQXsbw6PKfIhiEagPuuNCCJ-QokkDq5d8T-Jib3wRNrynOuo85NCA-BLd3BpaeIMIIxn8Px_HYk47MUT9GluyS1OlenooB2C_j-4g545TA8cdMvyMr9Dh1NQbgFClq/s1600/733.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGiVB6GDs_zEBbKQSQXsbw6PKfIhiEagPuuNCCJ-QokkDq5d8T-Jib3wRNrynOuo85NCA-BLd3BpaeIMIIxn8Px_HYk47MUT9GluyS1OlenooB2C_j-4g545TA8cdMvyMr9Dh1NQbgFClq/s320/733.JPG" width="213" /></a></div> We had an accident.....but everyone is good!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-fYUlgJhjE4pfz_prr4SGRCnzIKizhcczrYJ9LkbRhf7T0HA3swEhWw_0wrMugdaJ7_ad3uoUIgR10ZElazj_godJDaG8ZmLPruI59C0cKZH5A8ipEteBWpkeGebzB-GDVLDnbCcNiNNK/s1600/831.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-fYUlgJhjE4pfz_prr4SGRCnzIKizhcczrYJ9LkbRhf7T0HA3swEhWw_0wrMugdaJ7_ad3uoUIgR10ZElazj_godJDaG8ZmLPruI59C0cKZH5A8ipEteBWpkeGebzB-GDVLDnbCcNiNNK/s320/831.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> house boats!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiYHZsAKcLve_ToDFEbVKRKL0wmIJ8bBwFBVaIwiwk_YmealBF1G0dVhDH2PkZmVD2imYZgfLQyiuCO_3lGGrZN4Wk_QFWamLHf9OyIvpnEE4C1Jvl85AmbmmuEKsgGyOD2TkY_Pgg6knf/s1600/935.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiYHZsAKcLve_ToDFEbVKRKL0wmIJ8bBwFBVaIwiwk_YmealBF1G0dVhDH2PkZmVD2imYZgfLQyiuCO_3lGGrZN4Wk_QFWamLHf9OyIvpnEE4C1Jvl85AmbmmuEKsgGyOD2TkY_Pgg6knf/s320/935.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Elephant ride in Kerala!!!!!!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjayl1S7l9ye6lNTSEpLXODpj9_k0S-g5hyphenhyphen8KgeKsfmQfgFSw8JpnKUeScHDuKLKvF91dtTfvJu3_7TaTzKpMnj1-a7kfL31_s_xMsXuIC_L5ZcVWZRN_sEzfBVuxjIaU1kd9Q7lFsg7tlp/s1600/1105.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjayl1S7l9ye6lNTSEpLXODpj9_k0S-g5hyphenhyphen8KgeKsfmQfgFSw8JpnKUeScHDuKLKvF91dtTfvJu3_7TaTzKpMnj1-a7kfL31_s_xMsXuIC_L5ZcVWZRN_sEzfBVuxjIaU1kd9Q7lFsg7tlp/s320/1105.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMM6wWtBBjpLnj2z4f6apUSu_a-1wZotR0e_FwnxDYrvsDwH7BVe0N-VroUYcbDkVSPR8CrafcFOdx-d7jNOiT3QfiFBIv0UO9wT3HuWXJccrKbazT-J5R2a44nZfAbHpMGwgxsRQRrdHE/s1600/1121.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMM6wWtBBjpLnj2z4f6apUSu_a-1wZotR0e_FwnxDYrvsDwH7BVe0N-VroUYcbDkVSPR8CrafcFOdx-d7jNOiT3QfiFBIv0UO9wT3HuWXJccrKbazT-J5R2a44nZfAbHpMGwgxsRQRrdHE/s320/1121.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ZzcCsdC9nlp3cWl20OSNKOnpL2c2-7N9CJq6LEA2IumpjLAh3Y_o1cW9N3PEhY1TJ2IE0iNFqjPLcjwnqLa0qW8-ck8gN0D28T6JdjBlm2zb8hwnCbvSbUhfsAYdIxjZV4IyKHp1Jz0M/s1600/1301.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ZzcCsdC9nlp3cWl20OSNKOnpL2c2-7N9CJq6LEA2IumpjLAh3Y_o1cW9N3PEhY1TJ2IE0iNFqjPLcjwnqLa0qW8-ck8gN0D28T6JdjBlm2zb8hwnCbvSbUhfsAYdIxjZV4IyKHp1Jz0M/s320/1301.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> Welcome to the Jungle!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkpDfwQOC71iA5b14bPdO9TnqqNrIDpw43uCMYpLgaMhL3p6cX74NiIdJ6PbnHEr6VN2c0f3q9N91nrVvlo4LJmTMhQaVsqbrx6fgacLB-nfwwVhcY_Jrs-VVSOtjtfqNTwVrc2Vc2qztb/s1600/1375.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkpDfwQOC71iA5b14bPdO9TnqqNrIDpw43uCMYpLgaMhL3p6cX74NiIdJ6PbnHEr6VN2c0f3q9N91nrVvlo4LJmTMhQaVsqbrx6fgacLB-nfwwVhcY_Jrs-VVSOtjtfqNTwVrc2Vc2qztb/s320/1375.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUGwS4ayVWRa1CvcA7-R4AgFbC4qobEoB7RIjmm48KAb6JgON_MhYRsJswdENhJ1uHDkck2blKFFoqqSppzD9MxbTua-Qyue9oET8MvepaGqFkAfk2PxIh_XgfWB1ZOvoJ73wfcG14yezZ/s1600/1394.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUGwS4ayVWRa1CvcA7-R4AgFbC4qobEoB7RIjmm48KAb6JgON_MhYRsJswdENhJ1uHDkck2blKFFoqqSppzD9MxbTua-Qyue9oET8MvepaGqFkAfk2PxIh_XgfWB1ZOvoJ73wfcG14yezZ/s320/1394.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Messing around in a tea farm!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheI32dtKDqwSX2p_3il3ByX3iyuK1CpfM72p-KPjLxEeMEeoFL7ZRWSV3cu3M1u-jC5AbLtZD80ouhyb5ia3lLkd5kmaAQlpOUr2iuPXinGK1p68mIty-tAyRqNAOfYiozKEveuxP9bd8g/s1600/1509.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheI32dtKDqwSX2p_3il3ByX3iyuK1CpfM72p-KPjLxEeMEeoFL7ZRWSV3cu3M1u-jC5AbLtZD80ouhyb5ia3lLkd5kmaAQlpOUr2iuPXinGK1p68mIty-tAyRqNAOfYiozKEveuxP9bd8g/s320/1509.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We helped the fisherman in Munnar</div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBcmMDcacjSAVF0rlLw1eTabdFB8m_ASl_LhF2_rTD_heiuGckJhTKQ9C23GZh9uerr6a5JyoIW3Bf8HdQX89lMMa3nqMzccFzgLbQphkBaEXpmjDjTMGMxi_pZ6-QpFoGk3QCeCJbEXXe/s1600/christmas%2521+168.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBcmMDcacjSAVF0rlLw1eTabdFB8m_ASl_LhF2_rTD_heiuGckJhTKQ9C23GZh9uerr6a5JyoIW3Bf8HdQX89lMMa3nqMzccFzgLbQphkBaEXpmjDjTMGMxi_pZ6-QpFoGk3QCeCJbEXXe/s320/christmas%2521+168.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I SAW A LION!!!!!!!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmmcNJAChbiQTSIKKigzJ0DZBzLu2R-iMOnMDXeR7Nc3dAY-1aP8gk_uHKbLjoHPWrNRnNiIqOxxa3UQlKvBC60Qpwx21Z9LNIGBFQvk6ae0Qlv4C1RC0GXvpMMnALqrZMln6r_rrW1e40/s1600/christmas%2521+221.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmmcNJAChbiQTSIKKigzJ0DZBzLu2R-iMOnMDXeR7Nc3dAY-1aP8gk_uHKbLjoHPWrNRnNiIqOxxa3UQlKvBC60Qpwx21Z9LNIGBFQvk6ae0Qlv4C1RC0GXvpMMnALqrZMln6r_rrW1e40/s320/christmas%2521+221.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Photo bombed by a camel.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYY7Jnm_i8Jm4BIYOwhWMflb0WRXcinIQThEpUHvk_rDOtCb45HXbU-A9uJ5Ip3vkCuwIq3UAf0Z4qpYOUgKJbZw_aXcEZcNPdBD_vf8J70vJC8PWAW0GgJszVgB6rxiqg8BxOb4n2ZZ9J/s1600/christmas%2521+292.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYY7Jnm_i8Jm4BIYOwhWMflb0WRXcinIQThEpUHvk_rDOtCb45HXbU-A9uJ5Ip3vkCuwIq3UAf0Z4qpYOUgKJbZw_aXcEZcNPdBD_vf8J70vJC8PWAW0GgJszVgB6rxiqg8BxOb4n2ZZ9J/s320/christmas%2521+292.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Dancing with a tribe of native africans who were brought by the British and are now Gujaratis.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2TBs-7Mzx2JMsz8j6QEjJWOflXN5nsCSQ304my36EVTyIY4QSAUGsqMOoSPxpcqQ8F_uVVaay3lY2yAhlLcDZelDgnrZnkoO9VvwvP8twErdB4MgY7WC1thblNZcpsw9655F5f_Aa03CB/s1600/christmas%2521+302.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2TBs-7Mzx2JMsz8j6QEjJWOflXN5nsCSQ304my36EVTyIY4QSAUGsqMOoSPxpcqQ8F_uVVaay3lY2yAhlLcDZelDgnrZnkoO9VvwvP8twErdB4MgY7WC1thblNZcpsw9655F5f_Aa03CB/s320/christmas%2521+302.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWlmIcQl2KneXjeEopHNQ_D1JoPLS2nC_HSBJeqP13Fi2SphylwHe_WTThGC4CsQmEliexxePk8URSZS_FIvuukUEHIEe9TsBoXjrbXEdCX7UaKIutMur9sH9WAXlddgQw6JXIbaUPErcw/s1600/1678.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWlmIcQl2KneXjeEopHNQ_D1JoPLS2nC_HSBJeqP13Fi2SphylwHe_WTThGC4CsQmEliexxePk8URSZS_FIvuukUEHIEe9TsBoXjrbXEdCX7UaKIutMur9sH9WAXlddgQw6JXIbaUPErcw/s320/1678.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So much fun!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-kn74TR_qirkvrrwhp3z8wMqpuBbZ8H0mXOuSrz4IO7dLawlr4hoOqabgisrV8jN0FUJMCwB9mm2U-buonLpVc80Yc8sODXLka7L_iWEJlUsWeGqsqDjjOmFfj_kZcqQJMQLzOAxJwcAq/s1600/christmas%2521+202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-kn74TR_qirkvrrwhp3z8wMqpuBbZ8H0mXOuSrz4IO7dLawlr4hoOqabgisrV8jN0FUJMCwB9mm2U-buonLpVc80Yc8sODXLka7L_iWEJlUsWeGqsqDjjOmFfj_kZcqQJMQLzOAxJwcAq/s320/christmas%2521+202.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My new mom and dad ^^</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeQ6JDp7oV4v941dQf7gXyfsWHKVD-8IeIMC5iv-_MqPUBXubBqZZOhyphenhyphenXjhMWrnlEYDonjj_-9mCrdn2bMTmbjbTE4kNc3daCq06ICZ17dCSHP8bDq72MB6VWoGJJvmHY79-rlkRBddact/s1600/035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeQ6JDp7oV4v941dQf7gXyfsWHKVD-8IeIMC5iv-_MqPUBXubBqZZOhyphenhyphenXjhMWrnlEYDonjj_-9mCrdn2bMTmbjbTE4kNc3daCq06ICZ17dCSHP8bDq72MB6VWoGJJvmHY79-rlkRBddact/s320/035.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">DIWALI and fireorks!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqxMYaQjnaVam2u5if3pOcpMGowbVbkrWlKJaydwzaU98QBWPnOGhxoi6xWkZNAgAuYnIGL2meLoArQRpi9MaYiIwfkd3fkgL0SQ7EddrnB8eKBCb8c4Wp4HlJ6Jr45tMG5BJb3SvSGFum/s1600/391.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqxMYaQjnaVam2u5if3pOcpMGowbVbkrWlKJaydwzaU98QBWPnOGhxoi6xWkZNAgAuYnIGL2meLoArQRpi9MaYiIwfkd3fkgL0SQ7EddrnB8eKBCb8c4Wp4HlJ6Jr45tMG5BJb3SvSGFum/s320/391.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Diwali Fireworks</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsJZvafZ2qqvmdTU7w-VbWCcgV5KWnY8PkOeP48_JcNFGwApILjw1PiabH1jjNG2wXneMOP68Q2QrORWNB2bY-PtnUDcg8CfRsZVY0x-9obH-1HpFmNhXl9cAnkHtXUOx_mUo80PC-gXTW/s1600/479.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsJZvafZ2qqvmdTU7w-VbWCcgV5KWnY8PkOeP48_JcNFGwApILjw1PiabH1jjNG2wXneMOP68Q2QrORWNB2bY-PtnUDcg8CfRsZVY0x-9obH-1HpFmNhXl9cAnkHtXUOx_mUo80PC-gXTW/s320/479.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Nicest cow I've ever met =D In India cows behave like our dogs. I wanted to take him home! </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqixRUcoTnnHbkGuskl42NSupGhAe10kF_uAUaVa0ucLsZ1_uHjtCXPgeDWCvV2bprkX-pkjrOV1-HaWKtmDPBALodnhIHEF-JvOBorCFRMyw1dHVmlPIS56kyN8gypWOEZdmsDaUalrBS/s1600/223.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqixRUcoTnnHbkGuskl42NSupGhAe10kF_uAUaVa0ucLsZ1_uHjtCXPgeDWCvV2bprkX-pkjrOV1-HaWKtmDPBALodnhIHEF-JvOBorCFRMyw1dHVmlPIS56kyN8gypWOEZdmsDaUalrBS/s320/223.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Rajastani food</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-4373w_xJmQ6VksFxWMJJOVXUJPhWA6jWEQIbip4sopnpdNY2eVkYyo6xRUFihHfv_7qBA_PY8kpeAoyysGm-Kxs5BAE3IlfhUrs5SHpgUVier_VXoYVMyrWCRXdqfjsjEtbDKF3l6tlM/s1600/033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-4373w_xJmQ6VksFxWMJJOVXUJPhWA6jWEQIbip4sopnpdNY2eVkYyo6xRUFihHfv_7qBA_PY8kpeAoyysGm-Kxs5BAE3IlfhUrs5SHpgUVier_VXoYVMyrWCRXdqfjsjEtbDKF3l6tlM/s320/033.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Traditional dance attire for our district confrence presentation.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifozEOKVv0KZcgZLJfUKeydSyNZ6voRasb1xyA4TRdtOxQ7Ns4nj5d1M69bDcj7SYWhtucO9jgEZeyKTSkg_OEbuVjb8jjV237YzaqisUY-XL4C9GvamK-zKEb_IvDmKCdkuV6jEUttHg2/s1600/101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifozEOKVv0KZcgZLJfUKeydSyNZ6voRasb1xyA4TRdtOxQ7Ns4nj5d1M69bDcj7SYWhtucO9jgEZeyKTSkg_OEbuVjb8jjV237YzaqisUY-XL4C9GvamK-zKEb_IvDmKCdkuV6jEUttHg2/s320/101.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My Indian Christmas!</div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcALDC78Vrv_lL37nLcjH29o_KXT2n708ykujC0PdTIoUFhVWtKZwVm7CViqjFgGlPkbUg0aKKYwuhme4YH-G8XWX6N9vFnj2WsRPgnlrtRZgzYLQYiEP6NyaX5AAOXskSoDjsBAynbetM/s1600/038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcALDC78Vrv_lL37nLcjH29o_KXT2n708ykujC0PdTIoUFhVWtKZwVm7CViqjFgGlPkbUg0aKKYwuhme4YH-G8XWX6N9vFnj2WsRPgnlrtRZgzYLQYiEP6NyaX5AAOXskSoDjsBAynbetM/s320/038.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Add caption</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6892567883252535202.post-61749579014008682222011-12-28T18:38:00.002+04:002011-12-28T18:38:35.023+04:00EVERYTHING<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It has been almost two months since I last updated my blog. Since the first week of my time in India a family of fire ants had found their way into my computer and made it their home ever since. Because of this many of the keys on my keyboard were affected including the spacebar which makes it very difficult to write. It would be impossible for me to catch you up on all of the things happening in the last few months. So I’m going to give you a quick recap on EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!! <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I quit my high school and have joined a school for fashion design. I went on a tour of the south with all the other exchange students and I switched to my second family!<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">FASHION SCHOOL- My first school was not horrible but it was a complete waste of time.25% of the time the teachers did not even come and when they did they only yelled at the students. No one learned anything. !!The good thing about that school was that all 5 exchange student from my city went to that school. On the days that we actually went to school we cut class together to sit on the roof of the school eat wada pau and talk about anything for 5 hours. At the time these memories did not seem awesome but now they are so funny! I do miss hanging out with all of my Indian friends though.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My new school is very cool. I was never interested in fashion in my life but it is interesting to be learning fashion design in the textile capital of the world. My school is not as structured and does not move as fast as a western college but my teachers are very friendly and flexible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am focusing on embroidery and stitching clothes.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">THE SOUTH TOUR- The best 15 days of my life. I already forgot what we did but that is not what was important. I made a new family. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you have been around other exchange students you would know very well how deep this bond is. I will try to explain to you. Exchange students are the most special people you will ever meet in your life (I am not just saying that because I am one ^^).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It takes a special person to give up everything that they know and immerse themselves in a completely new culture for one year. Going on exchange is a big challenge and unless you are in our shoes you cannot understand what we are going through emotionally and physically.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are all very different from each other and if it were not for this exchange we would probably not all be friends but just thinking this makes me cry! I feel as if I have known them for years when in reality it has only been 5 months. It is hard for me to imagine living without them. We have shared the best the worst and most difficult year of or lives together. They are the best friends that I will ever have! <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
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</div></div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6892567883252535202.post-91553417956824291762011-12-18T14:50:00.000+04:002011-12-18T14:50:40.491+04:00Bollyood Music!!!!!!!!!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6FteXhp7MZY">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6FteXhp7MZY</a><br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KSsSM2IR2LY">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KSsSM2IR2LY</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rf-EJv9HlNQ">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rf-EJv9HlNQ</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p9DQINKZxWE">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p9DQINKZxWE</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gst2UTzz0pk">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gst2UTzz0pk</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hcKtDXUb6Cg">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hcKtDXUb6Cg</a></div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6892567883252535202.post-59883915197229263842011-11-12T08:48:00.000+04:002011-11-12T08:48:37.981+04:00Technical Difficulties<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Dear readers,<br />
I have not forgotten about this blog but my computer is not working properly (I will explain later in detail). My computer will be fixed within the next week so you can check back in then. I have so much to tell you all! I am going on a Rotary trip for 15 days and when I come back everrything will be good again. Talk to you then! =D Namaste.</div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6892567883252535202.post-6832926412419167032011-10-09T10:44:00.002+04:002011-10-09T10:44:50.670+04:00PLAN B<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">For many different reasons switching to Gujarati<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Medium is not<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>going to work because even in Gujarati medium I would not be completely immersed
in the language because people can still speak a little English. I decided go
somewhere where no one can speak to me in ANY language. From now on I am going
to an experimental school for the deaf so that I can learn sign language! I am
not a student I am going there to observe and interact with the students. The
students are so amazing because even though they cannot speak they are incredibly
intelligent and capable. They are probably more intelligent than most “normal”
people are because they have had to work so much harder to get to the same place.
They are able to do everything that a “normal” person can. I went to a Key Club
convention last year and there was a motivational speaker who spoke about what
it means to be handicapped. He was born without legs and everyone’s obvious
reaction to that was “OMG I feel so sorry for you. That is horrible, I could
not imagine growing up that way, your life must be so difficult.” He said that there
is no reason to feel bad for anyone with a handicap. A handicap is anything that
makes you different. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are all
handicapped in some way. He said there are thousands of “normal” people walking
around on legs that are more handicapped than he was. I feel the same way about
the students at this school. There are all going to be perfectly fine and live
normal lives. I do not want people to think that I am a saint or anything like
that for going to a school for the deaf in my free time. I also do not want
anyone to think that the deaf students are my charity case because they are my
friends. In the end I am sure they will teach me more than I can ever teach
them. I will still do my best to learn Hindi but it is going to have to be from
the books….unfortunately. There is little hope of me even becoming semi-fluent
in Hindi because I have less than one year here and because I am never going to
be immersed in it, but I can promise that I will give it my absolute best! It will
not be the end of the world if I do not learn Hindi or Gujarati perfectly
because learning a language is not the ONLY point of exchange. There are so
many things to experience. However, learning languages is one of my passions. I
did not expect to come to India to learn sign language while speaking English,
but it works!</span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p><img alt="" aria-busy="true" aria-describedby="fbPhotosSnowboxCaption" class="spotlight" height="480" src="http://a3.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/304954_263452887011341_100000398960853_883990_1028946117_n.jpg" width="720" /></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6892567883252535202.post-67406646130784745112011-10-08T13:18:00.000+04:002011-10-08T13:18:03.440+04:00Navratri<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Navrati literally means nine nights in Sanskrit. This
festival is in honor of the goddess Ambaji. For nine days the goddess fights against
the evil in the world. On the tenth day called Dessera. Ambaji wins against
evil and people symbolically burn the Lord Ravana, the ten-headed god who is
the representation of evil. However this is primarily this is a dancing
festival. Everyone gets into special traditional dresses called Chanya Cholies
and gets together with many people in their society and dance gharba (a
traditional Indian dance which I have also learned) around an idol of Ambaji. The
festival starts after 9:00pm and usually finishes around 2:00 in the morning.
It is a beautiful festival. I am not much a fan of organized dance because I
have a hard time following what everyone else is doing (the story of my life)
but I am in love this festival. People dance with intense passion that I have
never seen before. It really looks like some people are dancing for their last
breath. I am sad that I will never be able to experience another Navratri
because it was a beautiful and inspiring experience. I am not religious in any way,
but it really felt like we were destroying evil somehow. Maybe not within the
world but within ourselves. When you are dancing with 2,000 in one small area with
the same purpose in a small way it feels like your soul is set free from
everything bad because there are 1,999 other people with the same problems as
you. Your soul is set free and the only thing left to do is dance out all of
your life’s passions and problems. Yes it is horribly crowded and horribly
sweaty and I wore the bottoms of my feet off but I could not care because I
felt so free that it did not matter. This festival will be a memory that I will
hold close to my heart for the rest of my life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<img alt="" aria-busy="false" aria-describedby="fbPhotosSnowboxCaption" class="spotlight" height="720" src="http://a7.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/312203_257330427638451_100000844877462_699616_1750280255_n.jpg" width="540" /><br />
Me my Cami (exchange student from France) and her brother in our traditional clothes!<br />
</div>
Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6892567883252535202.post-61610146928152247712011-09-28T20:35:00.000+04:002011-09-28T20:35:01.405+04:00LANGUAGE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">One of the most important and rewarding parts of exchange is learning a language. I am not doing very well in this department. Language is the reason I wanted to become an exchange student and after being here for over 2 months I could not conjugate a verb or make a proper sentence. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am truly embarrassed by my language level. There is so much English in India. Almost everyone is fluent in English. People of the younger generations even think in English. Most Bollywood music is half in English. Television is often in English. Street signs and advertisements are written in English and Indians often watch American movies and listen to American music. I am not immersed in Gujarati or Hindi at all. Yes, everyone speaks Gujarati and Hindi but I am never forced to use their languages. I use Gujarati or Hindi whenever I know the word but most people find it ridiculous that I try to speak their language. When I tell people that I want to learn Gujarati or Hindi they tell me that it is very silly because they are “worthless” languages. My school is also taught in English. Against much opposition I have decided that I must switch to a school that is taught in Gujarati. Everyone except my friend from New York is convinced that I am crazy and it will be a complete waste of my time. Not many people are supportive of my decision, but I feel it is the right thing to do. I will kick myself if by the end of my exchange I cannot communicate fairly well in Gujarati, and it is insulting to go to a foreign country and speak your mother tongue. Many people in America speak Spanish but if a foreigner comes to America and tries to communicate in Spanish people are very offended. I am doing exactly this and I do not think that is okay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To go to a school in Gujarati is the only chance I am going to have to be completely immersed in the language, and the only hope I have of learning. Unfortunately exchange students in India stop going to school in November because of festivals and trips. I do not have very much time in that school but it is better than what I am doing now. My school is pretty much a waste of time except for the friends I have made. One out of ten exchange students that come to India learn the language and that really scares me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know that it is possible to be that one and I will work very hard but I refuse to learn by studying through books. I came here to experience the culture not read about it. I understand that the English language is a huge part of Indian culture because of the British, but the native culture is also important. Even though sometimes I am very frustrated by all of the English here I have to be thankful for it in many ways. Indian culture is drastically different than any western culture and if no one could communicate and explain things to me I would be 100% lost right now. I am fairly lost even though I can communicate semi-fluently. I know I should not beat myself up too much because I am making every effort I can to learn the language. Things may not work out perfectly and I may not ever be fluent but there are so many other things to experience in India. I cannot let my lack of language immersion make me bitter towards my experience because there is a world of opportunities here. Language may not be in the cards for me but my life is not over. I still have a good 80 years left of living. I have plenty of time to go to Japan or the Philippines where there is not a word of English. I will make the best of the opportunities I am given here, even if that doesn’t include language. Other than the language I feel that I am adjusting to the culture well and I am really enjoying my time here. I am giving up on the language, but I am done beating myself up about something that is out of my control. I do not think switching to Gujarati Medium will solve my problem but it is a step in the right direction.<o:p></o:p></span></div></div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6892567883252535202.post-41770545038817490542011-09-18T10:10:00.001+04:002011-09-20T13:41:54.232+04:00Ganesha Chaturthi<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My second Indian festival! Ganesha Chaturthi is celebrated for 10 days. Ganesha the god that removes all of the obstacles from one’s life is brought to everyone’s home for 10 days. Every family and every neighborhood has a Ganesha Idol. Some of the Idols are very extravagant. There was a 9 foot tall Ganesha in my city that had a crown and gloves made from 100% real diamonds and gold! Every Ganesha is also given a shrine that honestly more closely resembles a palace. Every night we do Puja (prayer) to the Ganesha. We chant things in Sanskrit and the whole community gets together. I do not understand most of what happened but it had a very joyful atmosphere. Every day has a different theme and color. Ganesha’s clothes are changed every day from red to blue to green to purple to white to orange. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many women from my society made beautiful Prasads (offerings) from fruit, vegetables and pearls. This festival was started in Maharashtra (the state below mine) during the British rule. The hope behind Ganesha Chaturthi was that if everyone could gather together and pray for the British to stop their rule over India then Ganesha the remover of Obstacles would grant their wish. All that they had to do was pray and at the end of the ten days the entire city gets into the streets to throw over 6,000 Ganesha into the river! No one could give me a clear explanation as to why we throw him in the river but almost nothing has a clear answer in India so I am basically used to that by now. The government has made a rule that the Ganesha idols can only be made from materials that are biodegradable but it is not very well enforced. Many Ganesha idols are made from plaster of paris. Biodegradable or not that is a lot of material to be dumped into the river within 24 hours. This festival is catastrophic for the environment. People burst firecrackers and there is garbage EVERYWHERE! The morning after the festival you could not see the road, and the air was thick with smog because of the masses of gas guzzling trucks carrying the Ganeshas on the road. But if I forget about the effect on the environment which I have a very hard time doing it was wonderful. Every person was on the street celebrating. It is a really powerful atmosphere. People were crying because they had to say goodbye to Ganesha and then there was dancing and food and music and everything else you could imagine. Again I felt very clueless about things but it was a beautiful festival and I am happy to have been a part of it. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIsrvJ84VkcpxIt7qk4X0dSaRT5kz_TuD3ev22TCS9W2OUt8WXHOvMGFpuQ0WxPozWSfsghsfUBO4bICRESfPv0YhuZ5Uf9tnMVQ5eB8sIjLZ6kyVndCp3o34FQSK-eTE7GJ6yAtAmvIjd/s1600/019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIsrvJ84VkcpxIt7qk4X0dSaRT5kz_TuD3ev22TCS9W2OUt8WXHOvMGFpuQ0WxPozWSfsghsfUBO4bICRESfPv0YhuZ5Uf9tnMVQ5eB8sIjLZ6kyVndCp3o34FQSK-eTE7GJ6yAtAmvIjd/s320/019.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> An offering to Ganesha<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmKbWH93Dwd7VHpQCSepHLnmR2h_rwYz4tEFL0WIODptM3om77dYWlRDG9dqPBaj3JHuZKe26740KvrKRwFiLG1P4ps_LyS_Kr1hMQK1BD6f7JT_AyXkTTxpwZSqQsIdiG6n4qrL3S8ezc/s1600/021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmKbWH93Dwd7VHpQCSepHLnmR2h_rwYz4tEFL0WIODptM3om77dYWlRDG9dqPBaj3JHuZKe26740KvrKRwFiLG1P4ps_LyS_Kr1hMQK1BD6f7JT_AyXkTTxpwZSqQsIdiG6n4qrL3S8ezc/s320/021.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> another offering....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3vkQPgEiHzwjJiQwXsJBQQxQ41N1m-9i_m-7XgmnPfFNX6G2nmIPNnP7JCnyFSvfJ-k20XvpTBiDIQLH015kWNk5nGGyGVSpKR5THffyDEduUu5YQBn6nIN_0MSs4-Y2RdeTyP6D0xoMV/s1600/Pooja+012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3vkQPgEiHzwjJiQwXsJBQQxQ41N1m-9i_m-7XgmnPfFNX6G2nmIPNnP7JCnyFSvfJ-k20XvpTBiDIQLH015kWNk5nGGyGVSpKR5THffyDEduUu5YQBn6nIN_0MSs4-Y2RdeTyP6D0xoMV/s320/Pooja+012.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> The Ganesha in my cousin's house and my first puja (prayer)!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYSCOFNs5PaCvXH__2JhA-6QUdTj2zpKmChvt62fp8JaPnDaJYw9z73UdszZYY_P4JNJKW-1eyh4YVX91aUa5g-1EXnL7LJpRt8oZZ9aLvtfw4hfHDWSBxTwLPqfS06izt9B8fL7jJZSuR/s1600/Pooja+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYSCOFNs5PaCvXH__2JhA-6QUdTj2zpKmChvt62fp8JaPnDaJYw9z73UdszZYY_P4JNJKW-1eyh4YVX91aUa5g-1EXnL7LJpRt8oZZ9aLvtfw4hfHDWSBxTwLPqfS06izt9B8fL7jJZSuR/s320/Pooja+002.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZhMOKphQrG6h3ndA6Y5eNgCQ2sKl-we2XUH2crWwJx7WWrkV3DBLJTGA39Cz2UkpNYApMi6AW8SVODCCAtdGDVkqrWT23ZwmclMhUbj2rNRgk-koI-60IHNn0Y6f_KDv_sFo38UWSeedJ/s1600/058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZhMOKphQrG6h3ndA6Y5eNgCQ2sKl-we2XUH2crWwJx7WWrkV3DBLJTGA39Cz2UkpNYApMi6AW8SVODCCAtdGDVkqrWT23ZwmclMhUbj2rNRgk-koI-60IHNn0Y6f_KDv_sFo38UWSeedJ/s320/058.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> My society's Pooja and all of the prasads :)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNVagWdT932BSTm89dVAIFi_9Nkj_-LKQXlPexGrXzE5cbzDJDYjpto0CC3sirJvzV0fkEKwrg1uUivxt7IY7OP8tzFvpbjFPtGXxmthQQYbxO8PtNCuY5W_-zmriwestdyzSXMaURg4hh/s1600/059.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNVagWdT932BSTm89dVAIFi_9Nkj_-LKQXlPexGrXzE5cbzDJDYjpto0CC3sirJvzV0fkEKwrg1uUivxt7IY7OP8tzFvpbjFPtGXxmthQQYbxO8PtNCuY5W_-zmriwestdyzSXMaURg4hh/s320/059.JPG" width="213" /></a></div> Ganesha's favorite food<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUM43LbslisQ1WCmJWpwXSAyYTEH_qlm-mJLa_HaAplwve_NM-AIfNUj9Guwdbbzv2jKhRF-OrMqgJGR-cWSAcZ74PjI37lNRH-70Wj1c61xUmO5E9BlcT1s0LMtZfNc0404zxnVeGi3B5/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUM43LbslisQ1WCmJWpwXSAyYTEH_qlm-mJLa_HaAplwve_NM-AIfNUj9Guwdbbzv2jKhRF-OrMqgJGR-cWSAcZ74PjI37lNRH-70Wj1c61xUmO5E9BlcT1s0LMtZfNc0404zxnVeGi3B5/s320/001.JPG" width="213" /></a></div> My society's Ganesha<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_O2APdbDcPeR6LEbort2iCbn41Pzw7x7TZum7uizqTHAs6zBiVMYFzNOb5BI-nMi4miSxNyq_o6DClFH66LuekmrK3hbH7JLOuuhzu0I5-vDbpLK6lNaFDAs6lWV7wOg3kZCoNkt7nik0/s1600/013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_O2APdbDcPeR6LEbort2iCbn41Pzw7x7TZum7uizqTHAs6zBiVMYFzNOb5BI-nMi4miSxNyq_o6DClFH66LuekmrK3hbH7JLOuuhzu0I5-vDbpLK6lNaFDAs6lWV7wOg3kZCoNkt7nik0/s320/013.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> A vegetable offering<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDFGKtS9NISmRHZiaJyOb-fV_nAveWpjK5ad1iZnQlv-OcMBoxyXXk4LfFGRML__5jOP-5Zxy8yV2sxQt-K_Lh9Pi-OioV8G0HutPK-5RBRHzk8X1F1ygArLS9OIYDHx-7IpDUwFNj3xRe/s1600/083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDFGKtS9NISmRHZiaJyOb-fV_nAveWpjK5ad1iZnQlv-OcMBoxyXXk4LfFGRML__5jOP-5Zxy8yV2sxQt-K_Lh9Pi-OioV8G0HutPK-5RBRHzk8X1F1ygArLS9OIYDHx-7IpDUwFNj3xRe/s320/083.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJEk0kJDWv4z0AH_bJvnjJGlb7Z8I-WeP62-IDFB_AXwbmS67CtwB8TcmPjWQLgdEPLPvROYh2wGBR2LgZ-Va-9KMA0etcloRwfiwiViyYKkID54MX24zMFn37rJ8s3bOEcCs4OQcbeXGw/s1600/087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJEk0kJDWv4z0AH_bJvnjJGlb7Z8I-WeP62-IDFB_AXwbmS67CtwB8TcmPjWQLgdEPLPvROYh2wGBR2LgZ-Va-9KMA0etcloRwfiwiViyYKkID54MX24zMFn37rJ8s3bOEcCs4OQcbeXGw/s320/087.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> The ceiling of a shrine<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBsRq0A8wqkoRWUl-EYfqF0q_9hFnxOJzN3V7JC33LrT40oeKsW1Mjy6UyXNulJukn9_1TCkHrSqkiRc2rEpY3xpTEW0ROv5v-T9-k5zuo1A-fVpwqvfRmfOdZTNFoXGXGiJhZiEEzdMY0/s1600/089.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBsRq0A8wqkoRWUl-EYfqF0q_9hFnxOJzN3V7JC33LrT40oeKsW1Mjy6UyXNulJukn9_1TCkHrSqkiRc2rEpY3xpTEW0ROv5v-T9-k5zuo1A-fVpwqvfRmfOdZTNFoXGXGiJhZiEEzdMY0/s320/089.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4JhcnytnAUrLo9txNFwZ8rRMgTcTkBjmpgHKLHZeYjAh-67uiJp2BREtOJFTMk52FbT3SwuL1ifiCy1h9tpusAo5AdROSVM0NmukP4ckFGbm4ju3SxOf2tjHaQLn7SDUjznt6y9UBWeYy/s1600/106.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4JhcnytnAUrLo9txNFwZ8rRMgTcTkBjmpgHKLHZeYjAh-67uiJp2BREtOJFTMk52FbT3SwuL1ifiCy1h9tpusAo5AdROSVM0NmukP4ckFGbm4ju3SxOf2tjHaQLn7SDUjznt6y9UBWeYy/s320/106.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> Me my society and friend from New York on the way to throw Ganesha in the river<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikmZ_3D9WHovZ0IN5Q-5XA1np7aVZgE9_QJhDTD9MDva5xBLRVjxuuZv87dQF7_IdhBTaR0F7SqnGFZ2H195ZwAlhqG0Yk_dCIm-0PO_7aFitE-QbzN6sbOnGYkTabl7_Y36IosGC3VnyO/s1600/129.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikmZ_3D9WHovZ0IN5Q-5XA1np7aVZgE9_QJhDTD9MDva5xBLRVjxuuZv87dQF7_IdhBTaR0F7SqnGFZ2H195ZwAlhqG0Yk_dCIm-0PO_7aFitE-QbzN6sbOnGYkTabl7_Y36IosGC3VnyO/s320/129.JPG" width="213" /></a></div> The 9 foot tall Ganesha with real diamond and gold hands and crown!!!!!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2oVRLUV46BAnGTI_Q7IrsuA1YyoSrARyhciVicrwVtWRuZ-TwOCp3ngREaNYDfI3WZMY6xYo7QPbCJYl-jirE8p3V6WzGAl_0_oI3EbuKLWX1u1T_GRp8MIVlRxKhcZjyY0p_hyphenhyphenttuVfI/s1600/236.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2oVRLUV46BAnGTI_Q7IrsuA1YyoSrARyhciVicrwVtWRuZ-TwOCp3ngREaNYDfI3WZMY6xYo7QPbCJYl-jirE8p3V6WzGAl_0_oI3EbuKLWX1u1T_GRp8MIVlRxKhcZjyY0p_hyphenhyphenttuVfI/s320/236.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh49xzoOc9wbA0AoM2Nto0BXMQJ1U1apzoqe343pELviARxthDj04XcCyE2sIeYtow7M91oXy2gKIrUciSetrpN8hIOrBGAlwSwaLfaGHDAfT-jFM57AxGa9wR8iGBCjv_jVcq89zf7nAct/s1600/190.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh49xzoOc9wbA0AoM2Nto0BXMQJ1U1apzoqe343pELviARxthDj04XcCyE2sIeYtow7M91oXy2gKIrUciSetrpN8hIOrBGAlwSwaLfaGHDAfT-jFM57AxGa9wR8iGBCjv_jVcq89zf7nAct/s320/190.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0V3aZsM7RtwuHzzpykRKUr-MhiE2_Shx0XKh47kuU05b6Yr_hVwk9tJ10TlEoC_lpsvSRD8vR0_xkwtMRNYWWZfcBUbeaOylSCIFnomegZKLjSVyEKEVVuHBKJzzcw3LUWURcjg4cGWkN/s1600/132.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0V3aZsM7RtwuHzzpykRKUr-MhiE2_Shx0XKh47kuU05b6Yr_hVwk9tJ10TlEoC_lpsvSRD8vR0_xkwtMRNYWWZfcBUbeaOylSCIFnomegZKLjSVyEKEVVuHBKJzzcw3LUWURcjg4cGWkN/s320/132.JPG" width="213" /></a></div> REAL DIAMONDS!!!!!!!!!!!!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsOSXifb-qcJtFIha8irHnJvYh9dtlopi1U45cl5ONiMXQls6XNv9gNxgmHyhSLZ43_gJifQUHwf07Jd51liU3WQpWRaEjQsL6TtPFHVKq8aRq4LWKorWAUM-2Z4bBu54SBIN2AH-dtKTh/s1600/122.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsOSXifb-qcJtFIha8irHnJvYh9dtlopi1U45cl5ONiMXQls6XNv9gNxgmHyhSLZ43_gJifQUHwf07Jd51liU3WQpWRaEjQsL6TtPFHVKq8aRq4LWKorWAUM-2Z4bBu54SBIN2AH-dtKTh/s320/122.JPG" width="320" /></a></div></div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6892567883252535202.post-19252715115447036742011-08-25T16:17:00.002+04:002011-08-25T16:17:29.302+04:00Family<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In India everyone is a brother, a sister, an uncle, auntie, mommy or daddy. Everyone is a family member even people you have met only once. This idea explains so much of the culture. You treat every person as if they were your own brother, your own sister or your own mom or dad. At first I was very put off by this idea. I thought that it was strange to call random people your sister and people who were not my parents mom and dad. In my culture those bonds are so sacred that it should only be used for people who you sincerely love like your family. I tried to abstain from using these titles as much as I could because I felt extremely uncomfortable. For the first week I avoided calling anyone by their names at all and just tapped them on the shoulder when I wanted their attention (and Indian names are almost impossible to remember). <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In my American thinking I believed that it was wrong of people to call others by such affectionate names when they did not mean it. I thought that all of their invites and small talk were superficial and they were only interested in me because I am foreign (Which is partially true), but Indians sincerely love everyone like their family. They have grown up with the concept. This concept is even in their pledge every morning. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Complete strangers will go out of their way to help you. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People you just met will tell you to “Come home” as if their home is your home ^^. If you tell someone you like their earrings they will take them out on the spot and insist that you take them. I am sure if India did not have such extreme restrictions on clothing they would literally take their shirt off of their back and give it to you. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What is theirs is yours and they love to share with you. This is an extremely hard concept for Western people to embrace. I had a hard time at first with this because in America I am used to much more personal space. I could do what I wanted basically when I wanted. I was in complete control of my decisions, but here people take care of you. That is not bad, but I was extremely uncomfortable with the idea. Even for America I am overly independent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In India mothers still hold your hand when you cross the street and brush your hair for you. Like I said it is not wrong it is just different, VERY DIFFERENT! Now I think that it is a nice gesture, but this caused a lot of frustration at first. There is also a huge difference in personal space. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People will take things without asking, try food off of your plate and rearrange your things the way that THEY want it. They do not do these things because they are rude but because they expect you to do the same to them. It is also rude to say please and thank you. Saying please and thank you in the West is basically a reflex, but when you say it to someone in India they give you a very strange look and I think they feel slightly offended. My friend explained to me that people find it rude because you are supposed to expect people to do things for you without question because you are “family”. Saying thank you makes them feel that you are uncomfortable and Indians want to be family with everyone. I feel rude not saying it but that is completely ethnocentric. By American standards India is a very overbearing and invasive culture. Every rebound complained about that, I completely understand why they feel that way, but I think that they did not fully embrace the culture. In America I would have been upset by many of the things that happen here too, but I am not in America…..I am in India! I have not completely embraced this concept yet, and sometimes it gets to me a little, but I am so warmed by how pure their intentions are. </span></div></div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6892567883252535202.post-43477483007235035432011-08-24T20:42:00.000+04:002011-08-24T20:42:13.078+04:00My First Indian Festival!!!!!!!!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span closure_uid_d6u0o2="167" style="font-family: Calibri;">Today was Janmashtami MY FIRST INDIAN FESTIVAL which is an Indian festival celebrating Lord Krishna’s birthday and it was amazing! I cannot tell you exactly what happened or why, but it was very fun! I will take it from the top. Monday Morning I went to a parade with George a fellow exchange student from Deutschland and we were both utterly confused and it probably did not help that we had just woken up. From what I could tell there was a crowd of people in the street chanting and banging the drums which created an indescribable energy. From the second or third story someone ties a thick rope across the street and on that rope they hang a (flower) pot filled with colored water and covered in fruit which they call a mutki. Someone starts banging their drums (which I learned to do too ^^) and then the crowd simultaneously comes alive and start marching in a circle. The men form a pyramid in the center just as cheerleaders would and they hoist people into the air to do things like flips and blowing fire. Why they do this I am clueless, I have a hunch that it is just for show, but when I asked people they just tell me that “It is god”. That probably doesn’t make any sense to you either because I think that “It is god” is the Indian answer when they actually have no idea what things are. I have been told that so many times. Everything is god! Anyways the huddle of men throws those people down and raises one single man into the air and he has a very special task. He has to take “Baby Krishna” into the air in order to have the baby break open a pot called a mushka which sprays pink water on the baby. After I heard the story of the religious significance behind the festival it made a little more sense. The story of Krishna is that when he was a baby he liked to drink cream from a mushka so they reenact this idea in a festival. When I was watching this I did not understand why any of these things were happening. So I was like OMG why are they throwing that crying baby dressed in a ridiculous costume into the air to break open a pot onto its head! It just looked insane but it was really fun! Also I brought my professional camera with me so everyone thought that I was the newspaper and they ushered me to a special place where I could take the best pictures and then people posed for some really good pictures. This is not the first time this has happened to me either. Every time I take that camera everyone on the street asks me to take a picture of them and then they pose. I love it though. I have gotten some really artistic and beautiful pictures. I have only been here a month and I have over 2,000 pictures!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Showing you the pictures will make much more sense to you than just telling you about it because like I said I do not know exactly what happened. This “parade” is repeated throughout the entire day until midnight. Every neighborhood has one of these parades so I went to three of them. At midnight is the exact time when Krishna was born so that it when the true celebration is. It is not as grand as what takes place during the day but it is still nice. At midnight the family gets together and offers a food offering to Krishna and then of course we eat it. It would not be an Indian festival without eating ;) It was a beautiful festival and I cannot wait to see more. This by far was not the most extravagant of the Indian festivals. This festival marks the beginning of festival season. From now on there is a festival almost every week! I cannot wait! I will update you on everything! Talk to you then. Jai che Krishna ^^. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYsUh8ThtV77ffgpeT7rxYEwIqYBJhBFK69tiJweevw3S1fQ4CgEXjibgz7xwQbIsiXFOD1cE_ltinZ8AagT_lyBALGeNOegophkWm41XIhuXZj7SkvAS-BpMIBirbOvzr3LL-FJleQUPZ/s1600/jklh+186.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYsUh8ThtV77ffgpeT7rxYEwIqYBJhBFK69tiJweevw3S1fQ4CgEXjibgz7xwQbIsiXFOD1cE_ltinZ8AagT_lyBALGeNOegophkWm41XIhuXZj7SkvAS-BpMIBirbOvzr3LL-FJleQUPZ/s320/jklh+186.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div closure_uid_d6u0o2="157"> Baby Krishna</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLMHRnFRZ6khdTCH_rjgJU52avedfxFbZW4Iinn6uirD1yGzUCZivyX_bJkBvN1vT7xkZHoHeJGKHPuIHUADAkO8CDFr6mOQw933SkcMseFIRXQSwNGCMkL1PL2wtci2-B3l82K3iDpmkU/s1600/jklh+155.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLMHRnFRZ6khdTCH_rjgJU52avedfxFbZW4Iinn6uirD1yGzUCZivyX_bJkBvN1vT7xkZHoHeJGKHPuIHUADAkO8CDFr6mOQw933SkcMseFIRXQSwNGCMkL1PL2wtci2-B3l82K3iDpmkU/s320/jklh+155.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqa58LLjqXTALBy1L8nkGZ-lQuaZQFtjEl-88O-hf_PM4m_HVTVIpWj3azuCKJy_vlR3vZDyNVwDMxLcWG6KF_zh54sOUx2VUT53Y6Vtfb6iERj74ABHPDpMxRCnNC7XPlNrcqFenu2VwM/s1600/jklh+181.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqa58LLjqXTALBy1L8nkGZ-lQuaZQFtjEl-88O-hf_PM4m_HVTVIpWj3azuCKJy_vlR3vZDyNVwDMxLcWG6KF_zh54sOUx2VUT53Y6Vtfb6iERj74ABHPDpMxRCnNC7XPlNrcqFenu2VwM/s320/jklh+181.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div closure_uid_d6u0o2="158"> Mutki</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4sYDmJ-81JCrXnrmF4JiEGGYk5NwBAsm-jI6W6PnJMDVfEJL230e6pT3PFCb81W__bVG8ST3eHe2nQwA526yFBSos-RR_I0J_VbrMI3K_PUiyZNbhZ1PUpFwolxLrDwwRekpAXxp8qXcH/s1600/jklh+191.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4sYDmJ-81JCrXnrmF4JiEGGYk5NwBAsm-jI6W6PnJMDVfEJL230e6pT3PFCb81W__bVG8ST3eHe2nQwA526yFBSos-RR_I0J_VbrMI3K_PUiyZNbhZ1PUpFwolxLrDwwRekpAXxp8qXcH/s320/jklh+191.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div closure_uid_d6u0o2="159"> Your guess is as good as mine.....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB26obzzNrcQHnt0pTWEunM88hsJGtdmBVm4v0i5Y9ivRap3B8J6Kvp0gXGJUQwBNrDxNp2GnvuBvjUGf6kAT08aCdsDgKPqBkaYwky0OKJEz2LIIcgJXmOn4PO7SpBzjWXh6XY_-tm5u2/s1600/jklh+198.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB26obzzNrcQHnt0pTWEunM88hsJGtdmBVm4v0i5Y9ivRap3B8J6Kvp0gXGJUQwBNrDxNp2GnvuBvjUGf6kAT08aCdsDgKPqBkaYwky0OKJEz2LIIcgJXmOn4PO7SpBzjWXh6XY_-tm5u2/s320/jklh+198.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" closure_uid_d6u0o2="160" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinosJ1lSdzVBNxS32tP-Ta0QbJGqKrB0j4oo-t0qwuSu2J2NhI332JuAJ_WJkjeIBfl7_6seFHxlOOZGFEPH9m4r86z62s1AOCzQ20A28IskMVMGRRhF72kEX-sIwHc_9FruCif0tPitmr/s1600/chaos+032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinosJ1lSdzVBNxS32tP-Ta0QbJGqKrB0j4oo-t0qwuSu2J2NhI332JuAJ_WJkjeIBfl7_6seFHxlOOZGFEPH9m4r86z62s1AOCzQ20A28IskMVMGRRhF72kEX-sIwHc_9FruCif0tPitmr/s320/chaos+032.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div closure_uid_d6u0o2="161"> The shrine where they do offerings at midnight</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXe5NBZgZBXedOSwkH7CN9DillJxYRJzcVKAtVVr46TJYnbA8wPwXgEQDwrjAMHKn-mndqrDYFyTpyFe828naf4zLDF4HafLSHhU9ytlOxtOMPzafCkOvU6XPgsYbh1AYwWLZfQ-3s3TAL/s1600/chaos+040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXe5NBZgZBXedOSwkH7CN9DillJxYRJzcVKAtVVr46TJYnbA8wPwXgEQDwrjAMHKn-mndqrDYFyTpyFe828naf4zLDF4HafLSHhU9ytlOxtOMPzafCkOvU6XPgsYbh1AYwWLZfQ-3s3TAL/s320/chaos+040.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div closure_uid_d6u0o2="162"> Lord Krishna</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6k2vFhqjubPszu1Il40TRoRbnAirF_T9LDptFL9-w92Vr_WYgFuBMHgSH-jSGQSv1Bg4MfLQ-TCyAFjR-EvtYVscW01qlJMjfO_pup1jDEKNAP8dHg6F9Uk_GxxUhOkJKfPiPitWHIXcr/s1600/chaos+066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6k2vFhqjubPszu1Il40TRoRbnAirF_T9LDptFL9-w92Vr_WYgFuBMHgSH-jSGQSv1Bg4MfLQ-TCyAFjR-EvtYVscW01qlJMjfO_pup1jDEKNAP8dHg6F9Uk_GxxUhOkJKfPiPitWHIXcr/s320/chaos+066.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div closure_uid_d6u0o2="163"> Me and the other exchange students attempring to play the drum!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPzCCTEaNS6_dCw3TL-qMUTHlQwo4TI2Bg0DxAbGveArO70VUOjawmtNobz_C2mz5GNOeunESCkqb2xElf7dKvkGRIFOeAX4VmQIS0UVqPL_vd_IpJkqDtWyo5IX1bRaBjV6sXwjuR-OEZ/s1600/chaos+135.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPzCCTEaNS6_dCw3TL-qMUTHlQwo4TI2Bg0DxAbGveArO70VUOjawmtNobz_C2mz5GNOeunESCkqb2xElf7dKvkGRIFOeAX4VmQIS0UVqPL_vd_IpJkqDtWyo5IX1bRaBjV6sXwjuR-OEZ/s320/chaos+135.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>This is another Indian Instrument used in the festival. It is very similar to a tambourine</div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6892567883252535202.post-61195153737902564452011-08-24T19:59:00.000+04:002011-08-24T19:59:47.845+04:00India Against Corruption Continued!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRnKmmlOFibjF8C9rZXmkWhE7tU0eEw_bpkcsgwrjFpDojBs0eXAroKe-KzQ48JM2bzd06wXjPTjkoUJMt5EgnJCTRHvXy5oeEFVdflN0yIpqISuGjXrz8VA8DFOgj0Wy8oNChbehpNYFy/s1600/jklh+068.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRnKmmlOFibjF8C9rZXmkWhE7tU0eEw_bpkcsgwrjFpDojBs0eXAroKe-KzQ48JM2bzd06wXjPTjkoUJMt5EgnJCTRHvXy5oeEFVdflN0yIpqISuGjXrz8VA8DFOgj0Wy8oNChbehpNYFy/s320/jklh+068.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtDu90Guvfmylz0Ihc7JY1IzNawWOBZw9H6CSFE8KwqDPA0FJsR-pEvL1Hipn6FZ8H-TvRrfnsXi30teNIy5FuWGnHNPhdN9PAUTvYN5vnd2R0B_xDWdTyM8pXHQsdQxOPUMYWdOW741Qg/s1600/jklh+070.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtDu90Guvfmylz0Ihc7JY1IzNawWOBZw9H6CSFE8KwqDPA0FJsR-pEvL1Hipn6FZ8H-TvRrfnsXi30teNIy5FuWGnHNPhdN9PAUTvYN5vnd2R0B_xDWdTyM8pXHQsdQxOPUMYWdOW741Qg/s320/jklh+070.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhymKuq5gTY8kf3zMqTLNnswcuHPGZpyKIxKZxYmYyr4TlnlRNmjm_RPvZgqGlGrAHwefayqRfO572xkgzzuu7bGwEYQowNPo4ne7VQ9nM0lR38bPV8thkTJh6AyHr3DIcbFXdMRx9NRW1y/s1600/jklh+075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhymKuq5gTY8kf3zMqTLNnswcuHPGZpyKIxKZxYmYyr4TlnlRNmjm_RPvZgqGlGrAHwefayqRfO572xkgzzuu7bGwEYQowNPo4ne7VQ9nM0lR38bPV8thkTJh6AyHr3DIcbFXdMRx9NRW1y/s320/jklh+075.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div closure_uid_ry0t5h="133"> This is me!</div><div class="separator" closure_uid_ry0t5h="129" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUc2KDAA4Qsnz4lSlHUuaLRTQbeM_1GUnrJMppPujaSzcYj7T3dJPkbiipJChWLdeHNwrdyKhe6TRxw44ZtbixoMoUUb-jeSaD0sfCbNFd5pN6xEhDvaC5ydiYb1dCdIA7NhbBFGCipMiH/s1600/jklh+071.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUc2KDAA4Qsnz4lSlHUuaLRTQbeM_1GUnrJMppPujaSzcYj7T3dJPkbiipJChWLdeHNwrdyKhe6TRxw44ZtbixoMoUUb-jeSaD0sfCbNFd5pN6xEhDvaC5ydiYb1dCdIA7NhbBFGCipMiH/s320/jklh+071.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" closure_uid_ry0t5h="129" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" closure_uid_ry0t5h="129" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The coolest thing happened! I went to a protest in support of Anna and everyone thought that I was the newspaper so everyone went crazy posing for pictures. I was so honored to be able to capture this moment. I felt like I worked for National Geographic! I participated too! They gave me a flag and I chanted the national anthem too! It was one of the most powerful things I have been a part of :)</div><div closure_uid_ry0t5h="131"></div></div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6892567883252535202.post-54731598344555971852011-08-19T18:55:00.000+04:002011-08-19T18:55:47.141+04:00Corruption in India!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-south-asia-14538889">http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-south-asia-14538889</a><br />
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<div closure_uid_y6r27p="179"><a href="http://www.iretireearly.com/1-4-trillion-indias-black-money-stashed-in-swiss-banks.html">http://www.iretireearly.com/1-4-trillion-indias-black-money-stashed-in-swiss-banks.html</a></div><div closure_uid_y6r27p="179"><br />
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</div><div closure_uid_y6r27p="179">There was a protest in my city in support of Anna Hazare. Sorry that the video is in slow motion I do not know what happened, but at least you get the idea. This is a landmark in Indian history, and I got to be part of it!</div></div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6892567883252535202.post-64890263499251373142011-08-19T18:48:00.000+04:002011-08-19T18:48:03.902+04:00Corruption in India!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzX57N_3nS-ENSTFZ1BwIugwBB1wSHZ-1DmJ2g7wrKa_TwrDBpn9ksnAWjC2sL6SdQCuzALjnLoJbMmWxZOBQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div></div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6892567883252535202.post-48724786234878393622011-08-18T14:11:00.000+04:002011-08-18T14:11:13.337+04:00Meditation<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Today I attended a meditation workshop called “The Art of Living”. I know what you are thinking “Wow! This girl is such a hippie she is spending a year in India to learn the “art” of living through meditation. I bet she is wearing baggy pants and has stopped showering too!” But I promise that I am still showering! I have definitely become accustomed to the big baggy harem pants. Native Indians would never wear baggy harem pants, they dress exactly how we do back in the US, but for me it is TOO HOT to wear tight heavy jeans. Besides there is no hiding the fact that I am foreign. I am six feet tall, pale, and have a very thick accent. No matter how I dress people are going to stare at me. So I might as well be comfortable! Most of the time I do not have a problem with how they dress, but sometimes I am unaware of when my outfit is “inappropriate”. For example it is practically a crime to show your legs especially if you are foreign and shirts should go up to your collar bone. I understand the cultural sensitivity to covering your body more and I want to follow them, but it is uncomfortable! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No matter what I do I am always sweating because there is so much moisture in the air, and my skin cannot breathe because it is always covered with clothing! But back to meditation </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> when I pictured meditation I imagined a room full of shoeless people sitting on ornate pillows intensely rocking back and forth chanting Sanskrit hymns, but that is not what meditation is. Meditation is not a spiritual hippie thing (although it can be if you want it be).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Meditation is actually very practical. Meditation is simply letting your body completely rest and letting your mind process everything. Over 300,000 thoughts run through our minds every day, how can we expect our minds to thoroughly process all of this information? I don’t think that it can! Personally I always felt overwhelmed by everyday life in America. I had homework, AP classes, a job, officer positions, preparing for this exchange, preparing for college, and I at least tried to have a social life :/ Now I realize that that year was practically wasted because I was so overwhelmed by everything that was happening that I can literally not remember most of it. My mind was incapable of processing all of the things around me. Meditation would have really helped me last year, but unfortunately I wasn’t aware of it </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">L</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> But at least I know now. Meditating for 10 minutes can drastically improve your energy level, productivity, and creativity. Think what you do in ten minutes….that’s nothing! I am going to start meditating for ten minutes every morning. I feel like it will really help me cope with all the insanity around me better. Also Indians never have enough sleep! They eat dinner at 8:00-10:00 at night and then they talk for a while or usually go out for more food ;) Then they finally settle down in their rooms at 11:00 or 11:30 and around 12:00-12:30 they actually sleep. Then they wake up at 5:00!!! They do this every day, and this is not enough for me! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most people are able to take a nap during the day which helps a lot, but I absolutely hate naps. Meditation is like going into super-sleep so that is another bonus! I think you should all consider meditation, because it is not a strange religious ritual it will improve your daily routine. I could go into detail on how exactly to do it, but it would be just as easy and easier to understand if you googled it. Good luck! I promise you will not regret it!</span></div></div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6892567883252535202.post-69127092808322722062011-08-08T12:17:00.002+04:002011-08-08T12:17:59.181+04:00FOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span closure_uid_vgucqt="113" style="font-family: Calibri;">At first I had conflicting feelings about Indian food. Before coming here I had tried Indian food once and I really liked it! However…… real Indian food tastes nothing like the Indian food I got on State Street. It is hard to describe what a <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">real</i></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>Indian<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>meal is because every dish is vastly different from state to state, from city to city and home to home. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Food is a HUGE part of Indian culture, especially in my city. My dad told me that people travel from all parts of India to dine in Surat. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every meal in India is an adventure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Indian food envelopes all of the senses (not just taste). When the food is brought onto the table you are immediately stuck by the colors in the variety of the dishes and your eyes start to water because of the pungence of chili and coriander radiating from the giant mass of food on the table. They eat with their hands, and not gingerly with the fingertips but with the whole hand!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Contrary to popular American beliefs, Indian people do not eat with their hands because they can’t afford forks it is because they believe that they enjoy it more if they feel their food and I AGREE! I like feeling my food before I eat it. Another stereotype I had about Indian dining was that they sat on the floor on little pillows, and it is true….. Sometimes they do sit on a rug and put the food in the middle, but only when they have run out of space on the table or if the whole family isn’t there and they want to casually eat. I am so fascinated by Indian cooking. I want to learn how to make EVERYTHING. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I asked my host mom if I could copy down some of her recipes to take back to America to teach people, but she told me that none of her recipes are written down! Every recipe has been orally passed down from generation to generation, and this is ridiculous because there are practically an infinite number dishes! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s like every dish is a piece of heritage! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every meal reflects the diverse and rich history of the country. Cooking Indian food is an art. The tradition and depth of Indian food is awe inspiring, but the thing that surprises me most about Indian food is the sheer mass of food that they eat! I have already mentioned that Indian people are very small and generally slender, but I swear to you that Indian people eat 5 times more than I would ever eat in The States. Nobody ever eats much for breakfast because breakfast time is when the women start making lunch, and the lunch is huge! There is always rice, roti (Indian flatbread), Chapatti (spicy cabbage and potato dish), and dal (chili vegetable puree). Those are the staples of Indian food, but after that there is a main dish which is different every time. I have literally never had the same Indian dish twice! I can’t remember the names of anything I have eaten, but every dish is distinctly different. After lunch people go out for ANOTHER lunch, or at least a dessert. Then when you come back home your mom has usually prepared a snack for you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>India is infamous for its overwhelming hospitality and over-feeding you is how they show that they care. People bend over backwards to try to please you, they would feed you until there is no longer enough food for their children! This is a very nice gesture, but there is a certain point where you can eat no longer, and Indian women make it very hard to reject food. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They will insist almost to the point of begging that you have something more, and when you still say no they refill it anyway. In India you have to eat everything you’re given otherwise you are considered to be very rude, but like I said this is hard sometimes because they give you SO MUCH. The only way I have found to avoid this scenario is to eat extremely slow, and NEVER finish my food before anyone else. If you have an empty plate and others are still eating they will involuntarily fill your plate. There is so much to say about Indian food that I could probably dedicate a whole blog to it. But I hope this satisfies at least some of your curiosity about Indian food. That always seems to be the first question that people ask me about India “How is the food? Is it spicy?” Actually I don’t think I answered that question, but I will now. YES!!!!!!!!!! Indian food is incredibly spicy, even Indians find their food spicy. For the first week the spicy food made me horribly sick, but now I am used to it (at least a little). My taste buds completely desensitized, which is probably why Indian people find all other foods bland. Also because my body is not used to the spice it sits strangely in my stomach. I have no appetite at all, which is a shame because food is so interesting here. I will try to write more about food later, maybe by then I will have remembered some of the names of the things I have eaten and even share some recipes. Until next time. Jai chhe Krishna (The Gujarati equivalent to Namaste. It literally means remember god).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bye!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div></div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6892567883252535202.post-44463286997473020192011-08-04T13:03:00.000+04:002011-08-04T13:03:39.145+04:00Maru Ghar ( My home)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcGwJxM3xRTJ_DuSDYFW8Lt70hs0qsapLLNv0S5r2wiFC84gbMlj_f8rpJAzN1u5EOh9CEAcmEMBBxnBc7CpKz4sOKib8ohGI2ZEfCp925R2qZvF3CgluJFWV4CCx2YgwlpZu8g_-bptBo/s1600/Ghar+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcGwJxM3xRTJ_DuSDYFW8Lt70hs0qsapLLNv0S5r2wiFC84gbMlj_f8rpJAzN1u5EOh9CEAcmEMBBxnBc7CpKz4sOKib8ohGI2ZEfCp925R2qZvF3CgluJFWV4CCx2YgwlpZu8g_-bptBo/s320/Ghar+002.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgggxiAS4ax5EXadE8qlSVxCSCKBzYnYyKGqm-repV7rIvHGPKH8jXdcYFrI0gAlg1-112QJFKO62JjleVnP1XcjJtCAAnKE0Pm5YSOo8YkJWWbUXe5Hc8hZSrQ6mMioU3dPt2ENwiCkuU3/s1600/Ghar+028.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgggxiAS4ax5EXadE8qlSVxCSCKBzYnYyKGqm-repV7rIvHGPKH8jXdcYFrI0gAlg1-112QJFKO62JjleVnP1XcjJtCAAnKE0Pm5YSOo8YkJWWbUXe5Hc8hZSrQ6mMioU3dPt2ENwiCkuU3/s320/Ghar+028.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div></div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14698322512684855838noreply@blogger.com3