Today all across India, Holi, the festival of colors was celebrated. While it seemed to be a bigger celebration in the North, students from all over Manipal convened on the KMC greens and at the Manipal Institute of Technology (MIT) greens to partake in the festivities. Armed with bags of powder in every color, we threw handfuls at one another and everyone else. People yelled Happy Holi and would smear the powder on our faces and we retaliated smiling, but trying to avoid getting it in our mouths. At the MIT campus, music blasted from speakers and students, already stained purple from too much color mixed with water, danced and huddled in circles. We were happy to share our color with everyone and to share the moments of fun. We got to know many people as we ambushed them with our colors and posed for so many awkward group photos. So far, this is the most communal and open experience I have had since being here. It was so freeing, light, and fun – all in the spirit of Holi. But getting all the powder off was another story.
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The beginning of March always seems to be midterm season, whether it is in DC or in India. For all you skeptics out there as to whether or not I actually do any studying abroad, let me assure you – I do. This week has been as stressful as any other midterm week, perhaps even more, due to the added element of new testing styles, the fact that midterms count for almost half of our semester grades, and realizing we have absolutely no idea what professors expect from us despite having asked them numerous times. But one thing is certain; memorization of hundreds of PowerPoint slides is expected. I’ve spent countless hours typing up notes and reading them over and over again in my head, hoping all of it would stick. But with only one exam and a short paper left to go until I am done, I am feeling pretty confident (minus two questions on my surveillance test), that this week has been a success. I guess we’ll just have to wait until the marks come back. In the meantime, we will be rewarded for our studies (and reminded how quickly our time here is going), with our epic mid-semester travel week. Beginning on Friday, we will be traversing all of South India from Manipal, at the coast of the Arabian Sea, to Pondicherry, at the Bay of Bengal, and everywhere between.
**Update: Today was my midterm exam for my class in maternal and child health. The test ended up being incredibly easy and after finishing, the professor announced we would be grading our own tests. We looked around at each other and smiled. Essentially, you got full marks for the question if you had everything he wanted, 4/5 if you had most of it, 3 if you had about half, and the lowest option was around 2 marks per question, even if you totally missed the mark. Out of 50 total marks, the final grading scale ended up being: >21 = B, 21-30 = A, 31-40 = A+, and 41-50 = A++. All of us could barely keep it together as he wrote the scale on the board. I can easily say that up until now, I have never received an A++ on anything, nor did I even know that was an actual measure. I never ceased to be entirely confused the the academic system here, but in this case, I absolutely no complains! Here's to hoping the grading is that easy on all the midterms! This past weekend marked our first independent travel adventure. And it was an adventure! Through overnight buses we almost missed, relaxing days at the beach, hippie hostels, and the greatest food - it was one to remember. Late Friday night, long after the buses to Udupi had stopped running, we jumped on the few remaining autos to the Udupi bus station where we would catch our 9-hour overnight bus to Anjuna, Goa. The bus was a lot nicer than a lot of us had expected and only moments into the journey heads started bobbing as we all drifted into a light sleep. The journey seemed quick and before long we had reached our destination. We rolled up just after sunrise while the sky was still golden and a light mist cloaked the town. We managed to find our hostel with no more directions than “near the German Bakery, off Flea Market Road.” Everyone at the hostel was still fast asleep, likely recovering from a late night of partying, so we just headed around to the back where colorful tapestries, hanging beads, lanterns, and bean bags created the perfect ambiance to relax until the nearby cafés opened for breakfast. As soon as it was time, we headed to the café next door and enjoyed the most wonderful breakfast yet. I had a delicious fruit salad full of tropical fruits, topped with a light honey, and a thin cinnamon pancake. The place was full of the most eclectic group of people including a middle-aged woman with brown skin, leathery from the sun, bright blond hair in two braids down to her waist with flowers pinned around her scalp, and a crop top that barely covered her; men with some crazy dreads, leather fanny packs, cargo shorts, and tall boots; a woman with a baby and another little one pulling at her loose skirt; a table of Israeli’s who, despite the no drugs sign, offered to share their pipe with us; and so many others. It was fun to see such an odd conglomeration of people half a world away from their homes all enjoying the simplest pleasures of a small hippie town on the beach. I wanted nothing more to ask all of their stories, to find out how they ended up here. Happy and full we headed to the beach for the day. The sand was hot between our toes and the water just perfectly cool. Despite only being 10:30am, beach-side restaurants were already pumping club tunes and handing out bar menus. We staked out some beach chairs and set up camp. The day was perfectly spent swimming in the cool waves, strolling down the beach, dodging persistent women who wanted to sell us their wares, and napping in the warm sun. Late afternoon we headed back to the hostel to clean up for dinner and a night on the town. We first took a cab to a nearby town called Vagator, just a few kilometers up the beach for dinner. We stumbled upon India’s bike week, a collection of hundreds if not thousands, of people, expat and Indian alike, traveling from miles away atop their Harley Davidsons. After precariously dodging motorcycles speeding by left and right, we made our way to a Greek place with great reviews. The restaurant was perched on a cliff overlooking the ocean, sparkly lights and white walls, loud music, and energetic people made for the perfect atmosphere. We grabbed drinks at the bar as we waited for a table and encountered an unfortunate situation when one of the girls in my group didn’t get her change back after paying for her drink. After lots of arguing, the manager finally came over, gave her the change, and bought a very expensive round of shots for us all. Not a bad start to the evening. The food was nothing short of amazing either. The veggie dish I ordered completely made up for the lack of fresh veggies I’ve had so far in Manipal. After dinner we took a cab to another nearby town, famous for its incredible night market. There were hundreds of vendors set up and hundreds more shoppers. The market was placed on a mountain so as you climbed to the higher stalls you had a view of the entire thing below you. The stalls ranged from more traditional Indian and some Tibetan items, clothing and tapestries, spices, jewelry, stalls run by expat artisans and craftsmen, and more! After only a short time at the market most of the group decided to leave to check out a nearby club, but not thrilled by the huge cover fee, another girl and I stayed behind to wander the market, people watch, and listen to the (very weird) live music. It ended up being a really fun night and we met some pretty interesting characters. The next morning we were up long before the group who had gone to the club so we decided to check out the German Bakery, famous in the area, for some chai and pastries. Some friends from the hostel wandered in and joined us at our table. Once the rest of our group made it over we ordered more food, including the best avocado toast, and more fruit salad. We spent the rest of the day on the beach, enjoying watching the cows sunbathe (only in India...) and catching some rays ourselves. We grabbed some quick dinner and the best mango juice back in Anjuna before heading off to catch our bus back home. Once in town, surrounded by people and tons of buses, it seemed almost impossible to figure out where we were supposed to catch our own bus. As some of the group got distracted looking for food; we asked many unhelpful people and wandered in the wrong direction until we got a call from the bus company asking where we were. Though we were at least 15 minutes by that point, they gave us directions and waited for us to board – something that would never have happened in the US! Once we were off and had wound down from almost missing our bus, we all drifted off to sleep for the rest of the ride. This weekend was our first full weekend spent outside Manipal. It was packed full of beautiful sites, great company, and wonderful experiences. It started with our drive to Someshwar Beach on the Arabian Sea. Along the way we experienced some of India’s finest driving. Met with a traffic jam across a bridge, rather than just wait it out, our driver swerved to the right and began down the bridge straight into oncoming traffic. This seemed to surprise no one, but brought a smile to my face as I thought aloud, only in India… Once we reached the beach we were treated to incredible views of the Arabian Sea over lush green treetops. Because of the haze in the sky it was almost impossible to distinguish sky from sea. We hiked down a series of steps to the calm and deserted beach. Thousands of tiny crabs scurried away from us as we ran to soak our feet in the warmest ocean water I have ever felt. We wandered down the beach, splashing through the water, to a small vine-covered temple perched on the rocks just up from the sand. It was perfectly picturesque and serene. After prying ourselves away from the beach we continued on to Kollur Mookambika Temple, a 1200 year old temple dedicated to the Hindu goddess Parvathi (also known as Sri Mookambika). This temple is one of the most legendary and sacred shrines for Hindus across India. Sri Mookambika is unique among the other Hindu gods and goddesses as she embodies the powers of Mahalaxmi, Mahasaraswathi and Mahakali combined into one as Adiparashakthi - Mookambika. She is essentially an embodiment of all divine powers, so she can be worshiped in any form. Because of this, it is thought that a visit to this temple is equivalent to praying at thousand temples. Once at the temple, we managed to squeeze through a tiny door opening into the inner temple complex, pushed by hundreds of people from either side, eager to offer their prayers to the goddess. Unable to take pictures in this part, we were able to fully immerse ourselves in the moment. We were able to meet with one of the priests who has been serving the deity for over 25 years. He led us in a prayer for health, happiness, success, education, etc. and explained the history and the power of this temple. Afterwards he led us to a room where we were able to join hundreds of people for a traditional banana leaf meal. That evening we made our way to our home stay where we would stay the night. We were treated to what we thought would be sweet lassies, but ended up being some sort of buttermilk, spice, and herb concoction. I struggled to swallow several gulps to avoid being rude to our hosts, but Katie Jo really took one for the team, taking sips from our glasses when our hosts left the room. We spent the evening riding a barge back and forth a straight in the backwaters, watching the sun set along the horizon and then enjoying a camp fire back behind the home stay guest house. The next morning we were woken up at 4:30am to begin our trek to Kodachdri Mountain for sunrise. A jeep hauled us up the most precarious road, full of twists and turns, over mounds and potholes, to the point we would begin our trek. It was still pitch black when we began walking and we struggled not to trip over anything as we scrambled up the steep path. We sat a clearing between two peaks, not knowing where sky met land, few stars twinkling above us, until a pink and orange glow began to light up the night sky. Within moments the glow lit up hazy hills below us, still cloaked in shadows. It felt like standing on top of the world. As the rest of the group began the second part of the climb to the top of the peak, I found it hard to pull myself away from the view. But I did, and by the time I glanced back, almost at the top, the most magnificent grapefruit colored sun had appeared in the sky. It was magical. At the top of the mountain stood a tiny stone shrine. It is said to stand where thousands of years ago Mookambika fought and killed the demon Mookasura. Because of this, it is an incredibly sacred site and is a popular destination for Hindu pilgrims. After another precarious jeep drive down the mountain after our trek we returned to our home stay to enjoy more home cooked meals by our hosts and to await our driver's return from a festival in his home village. When he finally arrived we began our journey home, only stopping once to visit Hosanagra Goshala, a cow sanctuary, that houses and seeks to preserve all the original varieties of Indian cows - some of which are one among the few remaining of their kind. I never would have known there were so many different cow breeds. Overall it was an amazing weekend and I am excited for more upcoming adventures! Living in Manipal has a lot of similarities to being on any college campus, though there are also plenty of differences. Walking by the KMC greens behind the food court reminds me of the main quad on AU’s campus. Between classes students flood the campus, walking purposefully to minimize time in the sun. The colorful kurtas worn by the girls are often covered with white lab coats, at least on our side of campus. Because students dress fairly traditionally during the days, you will often find us in kurtas and salwar kameez to fit in and join in the wonderful culture of color (much different from my wardrobe of neutrals back home). We live in the dorms on campus (called hostels), most of us with Indian roommates. Slowly, I’m getting to know my roommate much better and she is absolutely great. When she or I return late at night after a long day we chat for a bit before turning to our computers to complete unfinished work or to catch up with friends and family scattered across the globe. Our group eats most of our meals at the dining hall, although the food is pretty mundane and completely non-reflective of the amazing Indian food options that exist beyond the campus perimeter. Because of that we try to eat many of our meals off campus or in the second story of the dining hall where there is a food court full of continental foods including a wonderful Malaysian place. We go to class with other Indian students, although public health is only a masters program at Manipal, so technically we are taking all masters classes this semester. The classes are structured slightly differently than in the US though, so the actual workload is not too bad (at least not yet!). We fill our free time attending the abundant campus events, like the volunteer service organization’s kite flying festival, cultural dance performances, the college of hospitality graduation and performances, the annul KMC Verve festival including a fashion show and dance competitions, documentary film screenings etc. There is a much greater culture of participation here than I have noticed at home. The events are all well attended and people are always eager to participate and to invite you to attend events at their colleges. We also fill our free time at Manipal’s gorgeous fitness center we joined a yoga class that meets every evening in what seems like a giant abandoned classroom overlooking the greens. The class is unlike any yoga I have ever done in the states – it is much slower and focused on breathing exercises. On weekends and some weeknights we go out in Manipal, including to the much-anticipated Wednesday night karaoke. However, going out here is not a priority since most students have class every day except Sunday, Saturday is really the only night to go out and because most places in Manipal close at around 11:00-11:30 and we have to be back to make the hostel’s 12am curfew, our nights are early and often uneventful. It is a great venue to meet new people though and I’m starting to recognize familiar faces out and about. Everything is starting to come together and I’m settling into a routine. I’ve found a great smoothie place I try to go to a couple times a week, I discovered a great little coffee shop that’s perfect for studying or just hanging out and a great ice cream shop just a seven rupee bus ride away etc. I’m meeting more people and getting comfortable in classes. It’s starting to feel like we have a place on campus and in Manipal.
This past weekend we had the opportunity to attend our first traditional South Indian wedding! The bride was the sister of one of the akkas who works at our hostel who we’ve met maybe twice. But we took advantage of the invite nonetheless. Everyone had been hoping that sometime during our four months here we would have the opportunity to go to a wedding and three weeks in we already had a chance! It was also the perfect time to wear the saris we had just bought. On Sunday morning our alarms went off before the sun had peeked above the treetops and it was only just getting light as we reached Katie Jo’s apartment where a woman waited to help us wrap our saris. The process seemed so intricate but she was so skilled it took only minutes for her to wrap the long piece of fabric into a fabulous dress. Everyone looked beautiful in their saris and some sparkly bindis from Katie Jo were the perfect finishing touch. Out front of the apartment complex we posed for dozens of photos - we were not going to let this moment go undocumented. The wedding was only blocks from the apartment so we all crammed into autos, careful to pull all the loose fabric inside with us. The wedding was located in an events hall and by the time we got there (at 8am) some of the rituals were well under way. While I don’t really know the significance behind most of the things they did, it was really cool to watch, see the different practices, and hear the drumming music in the background. We did learn about one of the most important rituals though, the ritual of circling the fire. The fire is significant as it would be the key witness to the marriage. The bride and groom walked around the fire seven times and each time a different mantra was recited. While we don’t know for certain, we were pretty sure this was an arranged marriage. We were gestured on stage a number of times to participate. This including throwing rice at the bride and groom, painting their faces with colored powders and shaking holey water at them, and of course to take pictures. The ceremonies lasted for four and a half more hours until finally the marriage was complete. By this time the events hall was full and the fabric of colorful saris filled the room. We were then served a traditional meal on banana leaves. Packed between different people, we ate with our hands, careful not to spill on our saris. The food was delicious. While there was no dancing or large party (like you may have seen in movies), the wedding was a really cool experience and unlike anything I had ever witnessed before. I am so glad we had the opportunity to attend and fingers crossed; maybe we’ll see another before we leave! I thought I had escaped the illness that seemed to be plaguing everyone in my group. Wrong. With less than two hours of sleep, I woke up in the middle of the night only to find myself holed-up in the bathroom for the next three or four hours. Another girl on my program was similarly violently ill so the greatest program director ever walked from her flat at five am to take us to the only doctor open at that time of day – the trauma center in the ER. Luckily we were placed in a side room with other patients of less severe problems so avoided seeing some more potentially gruesome scenes. The girl who ended up in the ER last week wasn't quite as lucky. That’s not to say it was a particularly pleasant experience though.
We were each assigned a metal cot with a tiny pad and sheet covering it; mine spotted with lovely rust-colored bloodstains, in what looked like an old classroom. We were eventually given several injections through an IV, including one that stopped the vomiting and nausea (thank god!). The healthcare staff working were mostly interns finishing up their final years in medical school. Some of the nurses joked throughout the process, forgetting to give the other girl her injections entirely until one of the other staff finally realized and scolded him. We spent the next four hours on the hard cots curled up in pain as Katie Jo ran back in forth to the pharmacy to fill all the prescriptions for the medicines we were to take the next few days, oral re-hydration salts, and the injections (which apparently you have to get yourself rather than them just being administered). We waited to see a doctor about the other girl’s fever and my continuing stomach pain. He finally came just fifteen minutes before we left, without even reading our files or asking what the previous symptoms were. But I finally ended up getting another injection for the pain that still hadn’t subsided and the other girl got some pills to calm the fever. While it obviously wasn’t the greatest time, the hospital we were at is one of the nicest in the areas and I am so grateful we have such easy access to it. Also, the cost for my entire experience was just over $10, maybe the cost of a single pill in the US. I spent the next twenty-four hours curled up in my hostel in and out of slight fever, body aches, and stomach pain that seemed to subside only at glacial speeds. In the morning, almost thirty-six hours after the whole ordeal and hours of rest, I felt much better. Good enough to down a few bites of plain rice and join my group on the day’s excursion anyway. It is still a struggle to smell or eat anything not horribly bland, but I am beyond grateful to be more or less done with the experience. Yesterday was our first Sari shopping adventure. We were invited to a wedding next weekend (!!!) and needed the proper attire for the occasion. Katie Jo took us to Udapi and first stop, Bridal World. Seemed appropriate. As soon as we entered, there was a flurry of commotion and sales members appearing out of nowhere. The shop was fairly large and stocked floor to ceiling with saris on saris. The associates eagerly started yanking the fine cloth from the shelves, tossing them hastily on the counters, telling us how nice they were. They showed us all sorts of varieties and materials. They were quick to our demands for colors and styles. It was so overwhelming, I froze, not having the faintest idea what color I wanted it to be or what designs I enjoyed. As people started finding options they liked, the women in the shop helped wrap the brilliant fabric around their wastes, finishing by tossing the material over their shoulders so we could all see the finished product. It was fantastic. Frantic. Beautiful. I finally settled on a bright purple chiffon with gold embroidery and sequins. There was no denying it was beautiful, but there was just something about it I didn’t love. Something didn’t feel right. I put it off to the side in case and again dove into scanning the walls for an interesting color to examine closer. People were starting to pay and soon it was only two of us left at the counter, associates buzzing around us, telling us which ones to buy. Under the pile of fabric that had accumulated on the counter I caught a glimpse of a brilliant blue. I pulled it out to find it was multi-colored, the top blue with simple beautiful gold designs and the bottom, the color of sand with deep blue and gold patterns. They wrapped me up in it and I stood in front of the group tilting my head, asking for their opinion. One of the men tied the purple sari around his body and we stood side by side for a vote. It was almost unanimous. Blue it was. As I went to the counter to pay, I felt more and more sure about my decision. By the time I took it to the tailor to get the blouse made, I could not wait for next Sunday when I will finally have the chance to wear it and to see everyone else in theirs. It was a whirlwind experience, but something I wouldn’t dream of leaving India without doing!
Last night Lauren’s roommate and a few girls we had met from the communications school invited us out for Karaoke at one of the local bars/clubs. It was a small place that was hazy from all the lingering cigarette smoke, but by the end there were tons of people crazily singing along to the American hits on the Karaoke machine. It was a great time! No, I didn’t sing, but maybe next time! It’s every Wednesday at this one venue so I am sure we’ll be back! |
AuthorAmerican University Student studying abroad in Kenya and India and wandering the world Archives
May 2015
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