Study much in India?

As I've mentioned before, I'm doing research for my Women's Studies course on women in Indian film. I've narrowed my research to female directors who are heading a realist movement in film. Screenplay writers and directors like Deepa Mehta (Water, Fire, Earth) and Mira Nair (The Namesake, Monsoon Wedding) are really heading this movement, and I love that it's two women who are not only refurbishing leftovers from the melodramatic Golden Age, but are actually focusing on excellently political stories. Hopefully this will move away from the star-obsessions and move toward director-oriented art-obsessions. I could care less about star following--I like directors.

Anyway, I'd like the research coming from the professors end to maybe amp it up a bit.

With the exception of two days where we simply discussed Indian women or Indian traditions, every day in my Women's Studies class has been lecture based. She's an activist, but I don't feel like I've met the activist. And it's common to write way too much on powerpoint slides here, so the lecturer is just reading from their presentation. I can tell every powerpoint lecture is regurgitated, somewhat plagiarized information.

We recently had an anatomy and physiology section in yoga with Chief Medical Examiner Dr. Lakshmi who talked about the heart's left and right auricle (not atrium), and how human beings are naturally vegetarians (eating meat is evidence of human corruption).

But it's my beloved English professor Mohan Ramanan, epitomizes how Indians can say something most assuredly with the least amount of evidence. He was lecturing on idol worship in Hinduism, and how it wasn't much different than Jesus on the Cross or the Virgin Mary statues. I can definitely agree with this--even though we don't offer sacrifices to them anymore, some certainly used to. And anyone--Christian or Hindu--would agree that it's not about the statue, it's about the being that it represents or the feeling that it conjures. But then Prof. Ramanan explained thoroughly that the cross symbolizes the ego being cut in half. It looks like an "I" with a line through it. I didn't want to argue that Jesus and his executioners spoke Hebrew, not English. It was also right after I'd given my presentation on Swami Vivekananda and argued that even though he instilled a collective nationalism in Hindus (for better or for worse), his rhetoric was contradictory and horribly biased toward upper-caste Hindu nationalism. Kind of like Ramanan.

Also (this makes me laugh), in my Women's Studies course we're required to do two powerpoint presentations and a research paper. The first powerpoint was due over two weeks ago, but because of a bandh, class cancellation, and my professor wanting to lecture, we never got around to it. On March 18, because some girls were travelling, only two of the six of us were there. My thumb drive wouldn't read onto the system of the very old computer, so the other girl was the only one to go.

Our professor told us she felt like lecturing on globalization the next Tuesday, which would be our last class until April 15 and 20 because she's leaving the country. We can turn everything in then. Another friend of mine in the class, Melissa, tole me she stayed up all night two weeks ago finishing it. But! No T/Th 11-1 class for almost a month!

You crazy, India.

Girl power?

For any woman wanting to travel to India who has not hit menopause yet, I would like to inform you that tampons are practically non-existent here.

I found one box of O.B.'s in the farthest corner of a general store all the way on the other side of Hyderabad.

But with all the emphasis on chastity here, I wouldn't be surprised if they still thought that tampons steal a woman's virginity.

Copy and Paste

I was asked to plagiarize this week by a good friend of mine who is a student here.

Hodeis (pronounced ho-DAEES) from Persia was sent an 11-page paper from her brother, and I got a phone call asking if I could help with the English, rearranging things so it would still make sense. "English isn't our first language, and I know it is yours--could you help me?" Of course I could, and I assured that it would only take a couple of hours. Assuming the work I'd be doing was grammatical editing.

But when I got back--the night I got back from Goa, already exhausted--she showed me the 11-page single spaced research paper on molecular biology. I was already intimidated because I know absolutely nothing about molecular biology aside from the bare basics I've learned in school.

Hodeis kept talking about copy and paste, copy and paste. I realized the entire 11 pages had been plagiarized, and I asked her about it. "No, not plagiarized, just copied and pasted." I had to explain to her that this would get me expelled from my home university. "But you're not at your home university, you're here." I told her that I could help her (as I promised I'd do) if she could write the paper (or, who would think, send it back to her brother and have him do it!), and no matter how bad the English was, I could help.

She was pretty upset.

Our friend Miriam from Iraq was hanging out in the room with us, and sometimes Hodeis would speak to her (Persian, Arabic, I couldn't tell) and Miriam would translate. What really upset me was that she would say a lot to Miriam, they would have a short dialogue, and I would get one sentence of translation. I don't imagine Hodeis wanted to have me over for a slumber party.

What troubled me even more though was when I talked to my friend Ali about it, and he said it happens all the time. He's finishing his PhD, and just a few days before he gave his final presentation on his three years of work, one of his friends asked him if he could put his name on the paper as well. "I need it for my degree, and I don't have it done." He said it as blatantly as that! Ali wouldn't do it, and later that day the same guy went to our other friend Ahmed and asked him the same thing! And he got upset when Ahmed said no!

Plagiarism happens all the time in undergrad studies in the U.S., but not entire papers. I don't think anyone is that stupid. Heck, I've skirted plagiarism here and there, but only when someone else can say what I want to say better than I can say it. And never for a huge project. But it's happening here and the PhD level. I'm still so appalled by it! This is supposed to be one of the best schools in India, and it's ranked the best school for physical sciences. I just don't get it!

The Adventures

The weather continues to get hotter and hotter. It's not even summer yet. My Indian friends told me that in a month no one will go outside. I've switched to wearing mostly Indian clothes, because they're all cotton and very comfortable (not to mention beautiful). But anything with polyester in my closet is getting packed right now.

Among various adventures into the city, I made a trip to a sari shop with some friends. We made it clear we were not interested in buying anything--most of them were hand-embroidered and terribly expensive (Rs 5000+, or over $100). But after a while, I had to try one on. :)

Other adventures have taken me to the football field with our SIP Women's Team. I didn't play (nobody wants to see that) but I was official photographer! They thought they were just playing for fun, but it turned out it was a tournament, and we ended up winning the whole thing!

There was one incident at the game though. A guy got on the loudspeaker during the game and spoke sort of angrily in Hindi. My Hindi is horrendous, so I obviously couldn't understand a thing. But my friends who did were shocked. "I can't believe he's saying that--someone get rid of him!" Turned out, the student on the mic was saying things like, "What do these Americans think they're doing in India--they're messing up our campus and our tournament. It's not their place, they should leave." His brief speech was peppered periodically with some derogatory term in Hindi for white people. One of my friends politely but sternly went up to him to say he was going to report him to the superiors, which shut him up really quickly. I think I was most startled, though, by the fact that the crowd didn't pay much attention, or simply didn't care. For better or for worse, I don't really know.

Anyway, on a much happier note, I've made a weekend adventure to the Golconda Fort with Zamir and Ali, only a motorcycle ride away from Hyderabad. It was massive, and actually really beautiful. It was more than stone, it had a lot of character. My Kashmiri friend Zamir played tour guide, which I'd bet was more informative than an actual guide.

Other than that, a few weekends past I went to Pondicherry, the old French colony in Tamil Nadu. I learned Friday was a holiday, searched around that morning for anyone wanting to travel, and booked tickets for Ali and I that evening! It was definitely a colony--you could feel it. And I got to speak French there! Many auto-rickshaw drivers knew their French numbers better than their English numbers (or at least I understood them better), which made bargaining easier. I think it's also very funny that Tamil-speakers know Hindi, but refuse to speak it. Perhaps a little French-influenced linguistic pride?

While there we visited Auroville, an experimental, self-sustaining community where all the hippies go to visit. It was a really great idea--in theory. I think what it left me with was that it was turned into a tourist attraction for the sake of funding since its conception in 1968. Because of this, it hasn't gotten very far according to its model. And after awhile, it seemed very exclusive, which I thought was quite contradictory to its all-inclusive, spiritually non-affiliated foundation. Our bus took too long in traffic to Chennai to catch our bus, and we watched it pull out of the station. So, Ali and I checked out the Theosophical Society in Chennai. There was a huge element of spiritualism there. This is trait perhaps sparked by Hinduism (otherwise, why would foreigners be setting up spiritual shop in India?). But Hindu nationalism overshadows a lot of this, and frankly, drives me crazy. Nevermind the Muslims, Christians, Sikhs, and Jains that live here. I think the most attractive thing for me about both Auroville and the Society is the idea of spiritualism, and not religion.

Goa was my last trip. The paradise beach known as Palolem, where all the chill Europeans go. I made lots of friends, got a nice tan, and celebrated Holi--the festival of colors! It was also my first time in the ocean. Salt water and sea food have convinced me I was born in the wrong part of the US. Words will not do this justice. So check out my photos!

These are the links to my last few albums. Enjoy!
India 5--Buffalo Lake, BBQs, and Football, oh my!
India 6--Further Explorations 
India 7--Golconda Fort
India 8--Pondicherry
India 9--Goa Goers and Holi Throwers

I really hope that people read this and check out my photos. I know I don't post very often. But I feel I can capture things better in photos. And thanks to all for even simple comments on my albums and blogs--simple things to keep in touch! And please let me know if there are problems accessing them.

Sometimes I feel like I'm missing so much at home. Then someone fills me in on the drama and I'm glad I'm half-way around the world. :)

When your tongue feels like leather...

Food has been a central part of my life here in Bharat. You don't realize how central food is to your culture until it's nearly impossible to find what you're familiar with. Don't get me wrong--the food here is fantastic.  Outrageously spicy, but fantastic. When I learned I was going to the spiciest part of India, I had no idea what I was in for.

But our food is our comfort. I suffered from a small bout of dehydration and all I could stomach was fruit and toast. The smell of pepper, curry, anything made me queasy.

Fortunately, when I got well, I had outlets of friends that also get homesick for their home cooking. All my Arab friends tend to crave beef BBQ nights. They'll skewer potatoes, tomatoes, onions, everything marinated. But their potatoes are not covered in pepper and curry, and they still taste like potatoes. A very warm welcome.

I've also discovered The Chocolate Room. This is a restaurant with a 14-page menu, and only two pages of these list actual dinner food. The other 12 contain mochas, sundaes, chocolate pancake dinners...you name it, it's there. Their hot pudding is nothing to be underestimated. Nor is their Triple Chunky Choco Sundae. I'm going to be triple chunky choco Kelsey if I don't watch it.

Food has even permeated through the walls of my classroom! What is the logical thing to do when your Hindi students have missed three hours of class? Have an Indian cooking class, of course! I learned how to make aloo masala with mint chutney and gulab jamun. Aloo masala is like a spiced potato latke with carrots and green chilies, mint chutney is cilantro (coriander) and mint mixed with green chilies and curd (plain yogurt), and gulab jamun is a sweet that is a type of bread that gets fried and then soaked in honey water. We added cashews and dates to ours. And our professor brought along her baby girl, who is quite possibly the most adorable creature on the planet.

Travelling, I've tried coconut and onion uttapam, mango lassi (GAH! Mango anything is amazing!), various attempts at western food, especially in Pondicherry. But my favorite favorite favorite was spicy Goan sausage in Goa. It was like chunks of pork spiced with who-knows-what and cooked with tomatoes and green chilies. And I still can't get over all the fresh juice here.

For a birthday, we went to Hard Rock Cafe, Hyderabad. That hickory smoked bacon cheeseburger was the best I've had in my life. I keep craving lasagna and home-made garlic cheese bread. And mashed potatoes. And milk. Oh my goodness, I miss milk.

Ajantha/Ellora

Hey all, I took a trip in mid-January to Ajantha and Ellora to see some really cool cave temples.

Ajantha dates back to 2 BC, and Ellora was built between 6-8 AD. Ajantha is two kinds of Buddhist prayer rooms (chaitya grihas) and monestaries (vihanas) from the Hinayana and Mahayana periods, and Ellora is three groups of Jain, Hindu, and Buddhist temples.

Here's the link:
India 4--Cave Temple Adventure

I promise I go to class. Sometimes.

You don't realize how much you secretly pick your nose until you get your nose pierced. For anyone wondering, it hurts no more than getting your ears pierced. The worst part was only that it was pierced with a piercing earring, which meant the sharp end was inside my nose. Inside. my. nose. Fortunately it's easy to clean, because I'm not wearing a lot of make-up anymore.

I was pretty stoked about acting class, and I went for a week, before I dropped it. I thought I wouldn't have a huge problem in a multi-lingual class (if anything it'll force me to learn the language), but it wasn't just me--the Telugu speakers have trouble with the Hindi speakers, and Hindi with Malial, etc. Ultimately though, it was the traps in the acting school here. There's a lot of talking, but not a lot of acting. Here, they don't hold back, I'll give them lots of credit for that (can't guarantee truth in their acting, a bit of moldy leftovers from the Golden Age). But if we're given two hours to work, they'll philosophize for all of it, and schedule a rehearsal for the evening, which entails writing out detail by detail what will happen.

But not to worry! A stronger, more popular form of storytelling here is classical Indian dance. I've picked up kathak, which is known for its rhythmic footwork (tatkal) and spins. I wear these long strings of bells wrapped around my ankles. Youtube it. It's awesome. I'm also taking a trip to Karnataka to study shadow puppetry and to Kerala for kathakali, so I'll have my fair share of Indian performance art!

I'm also taking a yoga class (at 6 am, 3.5 km away and still on campus--blek) that will get me a certificate to teach. We've started theory this week, which so far is something like junior high gym class with a scruffy Santa Claus. We have three instructors--super-sweet lady with the yoga voice, Cartoon Yogi Master, and the Santa Claus. The lady is quite possibly the nicest person on the planet, the Cartoon is kind of a show off with a napoleon complex who is intensely dedicated to the art of yoga, and the Santa Claus tends to bark like a wrestling coach. Which made a lot more sense when I learned that he used to be the wrestling coach, was head of the Phys. Ed. department, and was a former boxer, until he retired for a year, got bored, and came back to teach...yoga?

I've also picked up a Women's Studies in Contemporary India course, which is pretty great. I'm doing some great research projects this semester. For various classes, I'll hopefully be looking into woman's social status in Indian film, the sociology of depression, insanity, and disease as is evident in literature (Plath, Dickinson, Milton, Byron, etc.), and the Indian influence on William Butler Yeats' work.
 
My parents joked that they were paying money for me to go on a four month vacation, with all the traveling I'm doing over here. They're not too far from the truth, but I promise it's all educational and it's all cheap. A charter bus ticket to anywhere in India ranges from Rs.400-1000, which is something like $8-$20. So it's worth traveling.

Plus, between the Telangana bandhs, every second Friday holiday, and the Hindu holidays that happen at least once a month, it feels like I'm never in class. :D

 PS--This is where I'm going next weekend for five days. Those huts are restaurants and where we will stay.