Sharing Is Caring...

EXCEPT when your co-workers and you have contracted a 48 hour stomach virus and your sharing one toilet among the three of you.

My co-workers and I traveled a bit this past week. On the train ride home, I held my friend Che's hair back as she vomited 20 times on an Indian train--a fact that will most likely scar her for life. The other passengers on the train weren't too hesitant to hide their disgust. It was one of the rare times that I was thankful to not understand Hindi. I knew it was really bad when one mother shielded her young daughter's eyes as they passed by.

Two hours later, after we reached home, the virus struck my friend Stefanie. And, alas! Two hours later it was my turn. So for the last 48 hours, the three of us have been surviving on Sprite, sleep and Rogers & Hammerstein musicals.

I'm told that this is part of the experience of living in South Asia. Glad to know I'm fully immersed.

 

The Drums are Calling...

It's wedding season here.

This means two things: you go to sleep each night to the sound of drums, and you wake up each morning to the sound of drums. I'm basically living a non-stop homecoming football game here.

So this morning I was sitting on my couch peacefully listening to my worship music, when once again, the drums call outside my window. I made an executive decision at this point to gain cultural insight by observing. I walk out in the street in my jeans and flipflops...and bed hair...but none the less, with a big fat smile on my face.

Imagine this, if you will: Horses decked out to the max with gold bridles and braided tails. Female family members with the most elaborate saris, waving their henna-decorated hands in the air and stopping right outside our gate to dance like they were performing in a Bollywood film. And of course there was the band, each member carrying their instrument with pride, and playing as if it was their last day on earth. It was AMAZING! These people know how to marry in style.

So everyone is coming out of their homes to watch the scene take place, and I was perfectly content being one of these innocent bystanders, when one of the male members of the party grabs my hand and pulls me out into the parade. Before I know it, I'm surrounded by 10 beautiful women encouraging me to join them in Indian dance. I'm sure I had a look on my face, similar to the one I had upon my first experience in Indian traffic, but I recovered smoothly enough (thanks to those 4th grade dance lessons). Did I mention that I had an Indian man shoving a video camera in my face? That poor bride. She'll forever have my awkward dancing on her wedding footage.

But I'm told that it's an auspicious sign for foreigners to appear at a wedding ceremonies here. Go figure. ME, looking my very worst, is a blessing to others. Man, I love this place!

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Blogging...The greatest adventure of all.

So I find myself branching out in a number of exciting ways these days. Squatty potties, curry and paneer pizza, Bollywood films, and now blogging....

But lately I find myself going to bed, frustrated at being unable to share my crazy day-to-day experiences with the folks back home. I mean, how can I express the glee that comes when spotting elephants while eating at McDonald's? Or the pride that comes with being told that you "bargain like an Indian"? .....or...the fear in discovering that a small rat resides in your bathroom cabinet and strikes every time the electricity goes out.

So, I hope that this blogsite serves as a faithful bridge across the ocean, to carry the many laughs, frustrations and life lessons from me to you.

Thanks for tuning in ;)