india: a study in contrasts

today i offer up a couple links that provide some insight to where india stands as a nation. rather than rattle off my personal views, i'd encourage you to read and understand a bit more about this place in which i live.

1st: Economist article on yesterday's overturn of India's law banning sodomy

2nd: Reader comments on the above

when i'm mad

When I get mad, I generally like to spew forth the sundry incidents that put me in such a state. Today, for example, lustful, reproachful, confused stares from young men and old women, alike, threaten to undo me. And if the stares don't send me into hysterics, it might very well be two groups of "fresh off the plane" Americans, marveling that we drink the water and eat the vegetables here. I want to scream, "I live here. This is my normal life, just like you live yours in America." But then I hear, "And, oh, aren't those cows darling and wouldn't it be nice to have them in Manhattan?" and I realize screaming would be both uncivilized and misinterpreted, to be sure.

Amazingly, we actually do not live in two different worlds; the stare-ers, fops, and I all live in exactly the same world. They have their angry moments and triggers, just as I have mine.

The real point, however, comes from John Eldredge's recent book, Walking with God, in which Eldredge encourages his readers to observe why we experience strong negative emotions. We have to shepherd our hearts through life's journey. If we allow our hearts to go unshepherded, we quickly become battered and bruised with no understanding of how it happened and how to prevent it from happening again. God loves us. He regenerates our hearts and leads us on life's journey to shepherd our hearts Himself. When we are exposed to negative emotions and spiritual attacks, that junk rubs off on us. What have I been up to, what have I been doing in the past 48 hours that might have caused this anger? Time to shepherd the heart a bit, inviting God to lead this process of understanding. That's it for now -- time to seek some understanding.

in trouble

While talking with Mom the other night I was reminded to post stories like these. I'll tell the tale in reverse. Saturday night, CJ & I ended up at home, watching a movie. Seems rather unlike the two of us but my one request for the evening was that we not do anything that might get us into trouble. That ruled out rappelling into some ruins we discovered.

Now you need to understand the reason behind my request. Two weekends ago, we traveled to Mussoorie, a former British hill station that serves as a nice retreat from Delhi (especially when it's 100+ degrees!). We wanted to trek, too, so we set out on a paved path then quickly descended down a mountainside through nettles on steroids, across a garbage-strewn stream, up a hill/cliff side of shrubbery, to a nice sunset outcropping. After a time of reflection and cloud-watching, we proceeded up the hill, down another paved path, past a local intent upon us NOT climbing an unmarked path, down the paved path, and up some old stairs into a jungle. We wandered around some gated buildings and found some savage-looking monkeys. Then we were greeted by an alarmed army officer that requested that we immediately follow him out of what was apparently a restricted military area. Our nettle/shrubbery hillsides bore no signs of restricted access but, sure enough, the officer marched us out past a sign that ensure no one would trespass.

Then the weekend before, we went to a goodbye party and began walking through the park to go home. Halfway through the walk, we heard a whistle that turned out to be a very drunken, stick wielding, whistle blowing guard. He beat his stick and stammered about our trespassing. The park gate had been open when we entered but we quickly headed for the exit near home and found that gate closed. We high tailed it down a trail, up a cement block, and through a hole in the fence.

And that's why I didn't want to get in trouble and opted for a movie at home instead.

haircutting in India

Saturday, I came the closest I've come to the traditional male head massage I hear so much about. I hear of how wonderful it is, how people miss it when they leave, how they'll pay just for the massage -- forget the haircut. It all started when I missed my US appointment with the only person to cut my hair (save the rockstar cut exception) in the past 5+ years. I sat down & was promptly told I needed a shampoo because I have dandruff. After the shampoo and conditioning, the hairdresser came back and announced I have grey hair. Only much later did he ask if my hair color was natural and comment that he liked it. Humans can be so vain, can't we?

one more story

My roommate reminded me that I should amend the previous blog to include another event that occurred the day before the pigeon/light incident. I received call from my boyfriend, asking, "up or down?" I answered, "up," to which he replied, "good choice." I wondered what was going on; he explained that he was in my apartment, wearing my climbing harness, attaching a rope in preparation from climbing up off the balcony. The alternative was to rappel to the ground. You must understand that apartment doors in India enable one to be locked inside, unknowingly, until they attempt to leave. My roommate accidentally slid the bolt across the door and padlocked CJ inside. After many attempts to raise a raucous and get someone's attention, he decided to climb onto the roof and walk down the stairs to unlock the door by himself. Thankfully I got a call five minutes later that he survived.

some funny stories

Today I learned how having a boyfriend is viewed in India. Suffice to say, fiancees are preferable to boyfriends by all popular accounts. Since that recent discovery had me downcast, I decided I needed to reflect on some humorous incidents.

Last weekend, the aforementioned boyfriend and I traveled to Gulmarg in Kashmir for a ski weekend. Kashmiri people believe their land is occupied by the 6 lakh (600,000) Indian troops that serve as "protection" against the Pakistanis. This background is necessary to understand why there is such heavy security on every street corner and in the airport. First we passed guards at the door. After showing our snow-soggy flight confirmation, we proceeded to scan our checked baggage. Then on to the check-in counter. After signing out of the occupied territory at the next counter, we grabbed a bite to eat. We then proceeded through security in order to identify our checked luggage out of a line-up before it got loaded on the plane. Before the luggage identification step, we went through the traditional security line with metal detector and private screening pat-down for the ladies. Men don't benefit from the private screen. They get patted down in public. THEN we had another line of female Indian Army officers inspecting the contents of all carry-on luggage that had already been scanned. This is where it gets interesting. I start pulling out my phone then my second phone, then I open my camera case, then I pull out my Bible and it's opened & inspected, then a small bag of unidentifiable thin objects about the length of a pen in paper packaging. Of course, you might recognize them by sight. Or perhaps this will help . . . there were a few with green lettering, a few with yellow lettering, and one or two with purple lettering on the package, all of different thicknesses. Still don't get it? Neither did the female officers. I tried explaining with words such as "period" and "like a sanitary napkin." Still blank stares. Finally, in an act of desperation, I began indicating with my finger how one inserts a tampon during one's period. And finally I cleared the security check.

This past week, a pigeon flew into my bedroom while I was at work. The pigeon perched on top of my cupboard, as pigeons have wont to do in my bedroom when they fly in. In an effort to decontaminate my room, CJ reached in his pocket, found a 1 rupee coin, and threw it at the pigeon. The coin ricocheted into my lamp, shattering the glass lamp. We originally had two of these lamps in my bedroom and two in the living room. CJ broke one in the living room during our house warming party (sorry, just had to throw that in there to explain CJ's desperation during the ensuing escapade). He decided to replace the broken one in the living room with the other one from my bedroom. But he couldn't disconnect the one from my bedroom. Finally he managed to pry it off, pulling down the entire lighting apparatus. He then put it in the living room. But he couldn't mount it on the living room ceiling. He then spent hours trying to find replacement lamps for the two in my bedroom. After three hours and much exasperation, I got a call at the office to explain why the living room lamp was dangling from the ceiling, one bedroom lamp looked like a broken bottle hanging from the ceiling, and the other was on my floor with only wires sticking out of the fixture. The landlord can deal with that.

my life in indiahhh

i've had plenty of REALLY good stuff to blog about lately but i'm finally getting on it tonight. i had an excellent day. it started with quality time with Abba then my first day in our office. at first, i felt like i'd traveled back in time to the days when i lived in cubicle-land. then i realized the value of daily discipline & being with co-workers for immediate feedback, strategizing, and positive peer pressure to get stuff done. for the first time in 1-1/2 years, i returned to a proper ballet class this evening! i sweated, i laughed, i LOVED it. & THEN i got to enjoy Cocoberry -- think Pinkberry in Delhi. And now i'm talking to my boyfriend, reliving the day -- life doesn't get much better than this.