This is the first time I've been at a computer since my last post. I've been writing in a journal a good amount. Overall its been pretty boring here. After a few days in Dehli, we went to Bangalore at night. Bangalore is a nice town, very tropical in nature. My bua has a flat just outside of town and one of my uncle's lives in a flat above her. I was finally in the territory of my dad's family. So, it was the first time I met this uncle and over the next week, I would meet a lot of people for the first time. After a day in Bangalore we got on a train to Chennai (Madras). Madras was renamed Chennai in the 80s, I think. The Indian govt. got tired of the British names (Bombay, Madras, a few others I can't remember) and changed the names back to the traditional.
Chennai was hot and dirty. I guess thats typical of beach towns anywhere. What sucked was that right off the train I stepped into a literal bag of shit. A driver picked us up and took us to Sriharikota. I fell asleep and woke up in the middle of a village. We were almost there. Turns out, my uncle works for the Indian NASA, ISRO, and Sriharikota is an island where ISRO's base is. The only things that are in Sriharikota are as follows: one village, one large ISRO base including launch pads, a beach leading to the Bay of Bengal, a large Bird sanctuary on the other side of the island, some indiginous people, my uncle, and my grandmother.
Overall, the stay in Sriharikota was hot, but pleasant. my grandmother doesn't think of the same way the rest of the family seems to. But she finds me really similar to my dad. It seemed to have made her pretty happy, but I know she was also pretty sad. She cried everytime she talked about my dad, but she kept thanking my mom for bringing me to see her. It was the first time I had seen her in 18 years. My cousins are really nice and it was good seeing them finally. After this trip, I only have five more cousins on my dad's side to see. Three of them are way older and the other two are about my age; one older, one younger. One more thing to say about Sriharikota is that, its basically just like Jurassic Park. I went up to the top of one of the launch pads and took a look around. I wish I could have taken a picture, but for security reasons I couldn't.
There was a lot more to say when I started typing, but all I can think to tell you now is that so far, India hasn't been all that great. I've missed home a shit ton and I've tried not to. In the south, meeting my dad's family was rough. Its like this long lost son returns and all they can do is poke and prod me like a zoo animal, or rather, like a fat, tattooed, lazy, liberal American. I've constantly had to prove to them that I've grown up as both an Indian and an American and that it doesn't fucking matter what I am as long as I can stand up for myself and say "Hi, I'm Varun Bhandari." There's so much that I've said to them about subjects including, world politics, global viewpoints, extremism in the world and in the U.S., racism, and Indian traditionalism. And even though my perspective and ideals might not be the same or even close to theirs, they just can't seem to get it. I'd really like to say more, but its kind of tough right now. Its taken me an hour to write this much because this keyboard is terrible. I don't think I'll be near a computer again until I get home, so I'll give my final update then.

Tuesday Night and Wednesday Breakfast

The Internet wasn't working for last night and most of this morning, so I actually wrote something instead of typing it and saving it for later.

My mom's cousin, "Babloo", is a pretty funny guy. He reminds me of my Mamaji (my mom's brother) and makes me think that all men in my family are funny. So far, on my dad's side, everyone I've met has been funny. We'll see what i observe in Banglore in a few days. Also, of note, Babloo has a pretty full goatee. Maybe humor and hair go hand-in-hand.

I forgot my compact Zebra F-301 pen somewhere in my apartment. Its the only pen that I've bothered to know the name, and it really is that good. But, this is the first time I'm writing here as the Internet is currently down.

Last night after tea when Babloo got home, we all went out to go shopping. There were seven of us: me, my mom, Babloo, his wife Saru, their sons Ayuesh and Ankith, and my mom's aunt. All of us fit in a four door Honda City. This is basically a Civic, but a little bit smaller. Ayuesh and I shared the front seat and seatbelt. I used to have a tiny two-door Civic. My head went out the sunroof when it was nice enough out so I didn't have to slouch to fit. And, I know cramped; driving home for winter break with three others and going on tour last summer in a Dodge Neon and Mercury. But this was just uncomfortable. Anyway, we went to three different markets. The kids followed me around, I guess for two reason: so I don't get lost and so we don't get bored. They're quiet and shy but helpful when I can't communicate enough in Hindi to say "No thanks, I wont be buying this today" for the tenth time.

The people of Delhi are more cosmopolitan than some of the surroundings might suggest. Even within these tiny shops, the owners manage to dress as western as possible. There's a difinite mix of Euro and American styles in Indian culture that curiously stands out to me. It doesn't matter, though, because I curiously stand out to everyone, especially when I speak. One market had stores like Sisley, Benneton, and Levi's mixed in with sari shops and bangle stands. The last market we went to, Delli Haat, sold mostly saris, artwork, and trinkets. The cosmopolitan Indians were at work again in hovel-style and tent-shaped shops. All of them had these flourescent lights inside makeshift wood and cloth shops. I guess they figured incandescent lights would be too hot. Maybe its that flourescents are brighter, whiter, Westerner.

Bargaining is a must when purchasing anything. When looking at a few paintings last night, the dude selling told my mom the price was 500 Rs. That was reasonable, but he was definitely bullshitting. The second I opened my mouth, the price of the next one jumped to 2500 Rs. Indians want to get the most money for something they are selling, but buy something for the least amount possible and they love taking advantage of Americans even if they are Indian by blood. I found a few things I wanted, but I ended up not getting anything. Two things I will definitely get at some point on this trip: small party Hookah (found one last night for 550 Rs, but I didn't bother haggling) and mini keychain pipes (really tiny bowls!).

After shopping, it was around 10pm, we went to dinner at this chinese restaurant called Yo! China. Yo! China was pretty bright and had a modern design theme and layout. The food was okay, just as you might expect Indian influenced Chinese food to be. My mom and I split the vegetarian Manchurian. They had these fries there called "chili potatoes" that we ordered. I kind of pretended they were O fries, but only for a second. They were crispy and covered in a red chili ketchup sauce. It wasn't quite ketchup, because it was pretty thin, but there was a hint of honey in it.

Sleeping at night was kind of tough. The heat makes you swollen, I guess. I was pretty sweaty and feeling pretty swollen all over. My fingers and feet seem to be bigger, and my stomach feels uncomfortably big. I feel more conscious about what shape I'm in, but having mono really held me back from staying fit this past semester. I fell asleep dreaming about a tiger jumping in the house and me trapping it in the bathroom. Actually, I dreamt first that it ate my arm, but then the dream played again and I trapped it in the bathroom. I also fell asleep nervous to be in India. Something about here hasn't sit right with me yet. I'm just hesitent all over. Hopefully that will fade before the trip is over.

Waking up, you pretty much always wake up to the sun. I first woke up around 7, but made myself fall back asleep until a phone call came in at 9. Everyday, two maids come and clean the house in the morning. The kitchen, dining room, bathroom and bedrooms are all cleaned with a broom and then mopped. I got me thinking that I haven't cleaned my bathroom in my apartment in so long. But, still its a different sort of clean here. The bathroom here is never free of mildew and the white walls are always giong to have some sort of spots on them. It must be the heat that makes it difficult to clean. Because we're with family right now, my mom has been cleaning our clothes everyday. Its kind of cool to be wearing only two pairs of underwear and one pair of shorts for the past few days. But, tomorrow we're going to my mom's friends house. A driver is going to come pick us up. I don't think that means a big fancy car, but I could be wrong. I read the newspaper today with morning tea. The English is kind of funny to me. Obscure words and embellished phrases are obvious in the writing and I wonder how most people get along reading the news. The fashion and entertainment section was most interesting. It was basically all gossip collumns. This actress had this done, this couple broke up, Paris Hilton something. That kind of surprised me that Paris Hilton makes the newspaper here, but then I looked around at some of the articles and the word "beau" was insterspersed with the funny English. I guess its reasonable and just supports this cosmopolitan subcontinent.

Around 11, my mom, aunt, and I had brunch. I noticed my mom getting tired of listening to someone speak the same way I do. We both complacently say "yes" and let the other person keep talking. I thought she only did it with my grandmother or my aunts, but I'm starting to understand it more.

I forgot my camera last night, so I'm going to take pictures today and put those up tomorrow hopefully. I'm going to go wash my arms and face now. I'm starting to feel itchy. damn mosquitos.

the flight and day one

So, right now its 8:50 in the morning here. The flight wasn't too bad last night. The whole time we were at Newark airport, I kept thinking I was flying back to pgh. Even on the plane, I couldn't seem to stop missing those three rivers. Anyway, I watched two movies on the plane, and somehow one made me a little teary-eyed. The Freedom Writers - it was really cheesy and like Dangerous Minds, but watered down a bit. Its based on a true story, but I have a feeling the characters weren't as molded in reality. Fourteen hours on a plane is really way too long. I think I might upgrade my seat to first class on the way back, just because more room really does make a difference. I got lucky and didn't have anyone sitting next to me, but my mom had an aisle seat with two people next to her. (A 777 has three colums of three seats, if that helps paint the picture). After the second movie, we were still only somewhere near Newfoundland, so I started to read, but fell asleep somewhere over the Atlantic ocean. My mom woke me up around Greenland to switch seats with me. There was an older Sidar sitting next to her and he was talking up as much room as he could. So, I stayed in her seat for the rest of the flight, and didn't sleep much.

Delhi airport is just like anyother airport, except its in Delhi. By that I mean its congested, the lines are long and skewed by everyone finding their own shortest way to the front, and the ads are more cosmopolitan than you might expect for India. Of course there's the typical talk of "indian standard time" by people in line saying things like "My dad couldn't even get the time of our flight right. It was at 8am, but we were at the airport at 8pm. So we had to take this flight instead, and now we're here four days late." Well, we got our bags and went to find my mom's aunt and cousin who came to pick us up. The second we walked out of the airport, I finally felt like I was in India, and it started to sink in that Pittsburgh was so very far away. The second you walk out of an air conditioned building, you feel the heat. In fact, you can smell the heat. Its a familar smell for me and brings back memories of our last time here. I started to feel like I was settling in. Also typical to India, people waiting outside the airport take your bags from you and walk you to your car. Of course you say, "no thanks," because you know you have tip them, but they do it anyway, and they know you're from abroad and instead of asking for rupees, they ask for American money.

Driving is another things that is so familiar, but yet so strangely foreign and unique. As expected when not in America, you drive on the left side of the road and the right side of the car. However, the turn signal is used maybe once, the traffic lights seem to have a "obey if you want" policy, the speed limit signs are new, there are bikes, rikshahs, scooters, trucks, and other assorted vehicles on the road with you (all moving at different paces, of course) and to pass, you just have to honk...kinda.

The life here is interesting. Its so very different from anywhere in America. I can't even explain it. But, I'm gonna go out today and take a few pictures of where I am right now in Delhi. There's wireless at my mom's cousin's so I'll hopefully be able to update tomorrow.

p.s. The lechee are so sweet and fresh. They're more juicy and fleshy than anything else. You peel one open and it immediately oozes juice the way an animal might bleed if you peeled back its skin. The honeydew is so fresh that I'm allergic. Oddly enough, lunch wasn't that spicy.