So, I've got the bug again.
Which means I will be heading home. I am sure you can guess how I feel about all this, so I won't go into the heavy details. I will be heading home to the States shortly.
Baggage Blog and Mini Taj Blog coming soon...
Big Tall Awkward White Girl in India
Is it bad that most of the time I do not care if I am super awkward and people are looking at me? Maybe I have just been here long enough to not really care. Still, even though I don't care, it is impossible not to notice that people notice me. I looked at a picture of myself with my teammates and I immediately understood why. I am a bit tall white awkward girl, who dresses differently, eats differently, talks differently, smiles differently, nods her head differently, dances differently, treats people differently, works differently.
I'd be lying if I said that some other these things didn't bother me here and there, but for the most part they don't, especially in the cases where I may stand out more than others. In my previous life, I would have been so embarrassed that I would have wanted to curl up in a ball in a dark corner somewhere. At this point in my life, I could give a rat's A. In these situations, maybe I would have cared as an insecure teenager:
-In the canteen (ie. cafeteria), at friend's house, at formal dinners: attempting to eat everything with my right hand. I had no idea that there could be a proper, clean way of eating with your hands. Then I got food all over my face every time I tried.
-Dancing at a work function to Indian songs. Shockingly, American music has not taken over the DJ spot here. It probably wouldn't have helped in the awkwardness (since I am also awkward in the US). I got over the initial fear to bust a move in front of the near 100 people present, since I knew that everyone would be watching the tall weird white girl's every move on the dance floor (and shoving the video camera in her face), and went out to have a blast. Let's just say it was probably not graceful. I think I mastered the men's moves easier than the beautiful belly dancing moves.
-Hanging out in my driver's village. Children were taking turns peering through the doorway as I visited my driver's home in the middle of sugar cane fields. As we left, there were around 30 kids from all over the village running after the car smiling, waving and laughing. As I was writing this, in fact, I received a text message from my driver, Londhe, requesting that I call him. That has happened a few times over the last week, so I knowingly fulfills his wishes, so he can put me on speaker in order that his family, friends, and children of the village can simply hear the funny lady speak.
This brings me on a short tangent, again, about the common, misguided myth: "Everyone speaks English". Ha. Needless to say, I have been learning a bit of Hindi here.
Back to my awkward white girl list...
-Attempting to speak Hindi. The only things more awkward than me speaking in Hindi are the moments of silence during which I get stared at with a blank smile and then my every move and thread on and off my body is memorized, because we have run out of things to say to one another.
-Walking across the office in my "formal professional wear". Again, needless to say, women do not wear the same outfits we western women do. Even if I weren't white as a sheet of paper, people would still stare at me as if I were an alien due to my style. That's ok - gives me the excuse to further my clothing addiction and purchase kurti/as to wear to work to minimize the impact of my alien nature.
-Eating dinner alone. This was the first and most difficult thing I had to tackle on this extended business trip of 4.5 months. Quick and easy method to overcome loneliness, and rogue eye contact: reading a book/newspaper, and/or writing in a journal. Advanced method to overcome loneliness in this situation, in cases where you forget the aforementioned items: befriend the staff and force them to teach you their native language. Even with the use of these methods, the awkwardness is not mitigated. For example, since my stomach has shrunk (reference: previous post), I cannot eat very much. The entire staff had a quick huddle last night before the host confronted me about it, interrogating me as to what was wrong with the food. Traditions in India now tell me that I am supposed to clean my plate, no matter how much it hurts and burp at the end.
I know I have a billion more awkward situations to document, being a big tall white girl in India, but my battery is dead and so am I.
Thank you to everyone for the "get well" and "gain weight" wishes. I have seen more mass in my face the last couple of days and I think anyone who knows me beyond acquaintance level would be pleased to know that I cooked and ate an entire box of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese this evening. Clearly, I am returning to the normal state.
I'd be lying if I said that some other these things didn't bother me here and there, but for the most part they don't, especially in the cases where I may stand out more than others. In my previous life, I would have been so embarrassed that I would have wanted to curl up in a ball in a dark corner somewhere. At this point in my life, I could give a rat's A. In these situations, maybe I would have cared as an insecure teenager:
-In the canteen (ie. cafeteria), at friend's house, at formal dinners: attempting to eat everything with my right hand. I had no idea that there could be a proper, clean way of eating with your hands. Then I got food all over my face every time I tried.
-Dancing at a work function to Indian songs. Shockingly, American music has not taken over the DJ spot here. It probably wouldn't have helped in the awkwardness (since I am also awkward in the US). I got over the initial fear to bust a move in front of the near 100 people present, since I knew that everyone would be watching the tall weird white girl's every move on the dance floor (and shoving the video camera in her face), and went out to have a blast. Let's just say it was probably not graceful. I think I mastered the men's moves easier than the beautiful belly dancing moves.
-Hanging out in my driver's village. Children were taking turns peering through the doorway as I visited my driver's home in the middle of sugar cane fields. As we left, there were around 30 kids from all over the village running after the car smiling, waving and laughing. As I was writing this, in fact, I received a text message from my driver, Londhe, requesting that I call him. That has happened a few times over the last week, so I knowingly fulfills his wishes, so he can put me on speaker in order that his family, friends, and children of the village can simply hear the funny lady speak.
This brings me on a short tangent, again, about the common, misguided myth: "Everyone speaks English". Ha. Needless to say, I have been learning a bit of Hindi here.
Back to my awkward white girl list...
-Attempting to speak Hindi. The only things more awkward than me speaking in Hindi are the moments of silence during which I get stared at with a blank smile and then my every move and thread on and off my body is memorized, because we have run out of things to say to one another.
-Walking across the office in my "formal professional wear". Again, needless to say, women do not wear the same outfits we western women do. Even if I weren't white as a sheet of paper, people would still stare at me as if I were an alien due to my style. That's ok - gives me the excuse to further my clothing addiction and purchase kurti/as to wear to work to minimize the impact of my alien nature.
-Eating dinner alone. This was the first and most difficult thing I had to tackle on this extended business trip of 4.5 months. Quick and easy method to overcome loneliness, and rogue eye contact: reading a book/newspaper, and/or writing in a journal. Advanced method to overcome loneliness in this situation, in cases where you forget the aforementioned items: befriend the staff and force them to teach you their native language. Even with the use of these methods, the awkwardness is not mitigated. For example, since my stomach has shrunk (reference: previous post), I cannot eat very much. The entire staff had a quick huddle last night before the host confronted me about it, interrogating me as to what was wrong with the food. Traditions in India now tell me that I am supposed to clean my plate, no matter how much it hurts and burp at the end.
I know I have a billion more awkward situations to document, being a big tall white girl in India, but my battery is dead and so am I.
Thank you to everyone for the "get well" and "gain weight" wishes. I have seen more mass in my face the last couple of days and I think anyone who knows me beyond acquaintance level would be pleased to know that I cooked and ate an entire box of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese this evening. Clearly, I am returning to the normal state.
Losing Pounds in Pune, India
I finally have it in me to blog again. Working 10-11 hours a day here in India, staring at a computer makes me really not want to touch the thing when I get "home" to the Oakwood hotel. This hotel is amazing...I was in tears when the staff showed me my room. If you had to live in a hotel for 4.5 months, you would cry too. It is a full apartment, with a kitchen...all the tools required to make everything I want - which at this point has been Betty Crocker's Mac and Cheese recipe, Ramen Noodles, and PB&J's. It is a precious oasis that keeps me grounded during my long stay here, yet I find it surreal and awkward to be waited on hand and foot here, when just outside the gates there are people literally living in hand-crafted tarp covered structures.
There is so much to talk about, so I figured I will give a glimpse of Pune, India through my eyes on my commute to work every morning. It is a 15 minute commute, during which my driver miraculously maneuvers and weaves meticulously through unmanaged clusters of motorbikes, rickshaws, trucks, elephants, cows, you name it, unscathed and for arrival on time to work... Here are some of the things I have born witness to *keep in mind this is a city of 8 million people:
- A rainbow of sari-wearing women with jewels all over contrasting with the thick layer of dirt coating everything surrounding them
- A small concrete temple in which people pray every day and my driver says a short silent prayer to on the way to work
- Hand-crafted "huts" made of items found from the litter that exists everywhere
- One nice stretch of road with hand-laid bricks followed and preceded by dirt roads, potholes, roads in construction
- Women balancing bags, baskets, boxes, water jugs, etc on their heads as they walk
- Men with rifles guarding the more upscale or "western" hangouts
- Bamboo scaffolding on the hundreds of buildings in construction
- Men in turbans
- Entire families of four riding on a motorbike or moped
- Beautifully hand-painted cargo trucks, that say in all caps on the back "Please Use Horn - OK"
- Hand painted road signs in English and in Hindi
- Hundreds of thousands of people
- Children, bare butted, pooping on the non-existent sidewalk while their mothers stand guard
- Cows and bulls creating traffic jams
- Road workers sleeping on the sidewalk in forts created by placing sheets of plastic between the oil barrels that they use to fix the bridge during the day
- Beautiful condos under construction
- An elephant with the Hindu "Om" symbol painted between its eyes carrying two boys while another boy (~8 years old) guides it down the street with a whip in hand
- A herd of goats of all different colors (so cute!)
- Stray packs of dogs eating garbage
- Hand painted corrugated metal homes with women sweeping the doorsteps out front with hand made straw brooms
- Teenage boys bathing in their underwear by dumping buckets of water on themselves
- Three wheeled rickshaws carrying 6 people
- Cargo trucks carrying dozens of people in suits to work
- Horns constantly beeping, whose tones vary depending on the size and authority of the vehicle
- Poor, skinny, dark, dismembered and dirty people (young, adult, and old) with hands cupped begging for money and food
- The only cat I've seen thus far in India; the chicken I ordered at the Chinese restaurant didn't taste like the chicken I'm used to
- People riding a camel
- Bulls in stables next to neat piles of their hand-pounded round dung cakes used for fire-starters
- Men hand- turning a mill that produces sugar cane juice next to a messy block-long line of people waiting for their sugar fix
- A focused boy around the age of 9, with screwdriver in hand, repairing a grown man's motorcycle while the man scrutinizes his impeccable work
- A fish and chicken market
- Oranges arranged perfectly in pyramids on carts lining the street
- Three grown men on a moped
- A green river stuffed with litter on whose banks bulls are grazing and huts stand in a chaotic order
- Dry sunny heat (I wake up every morning and wish for rain)
- Women with their heads wrapped driving motorcycles in kurtas to work
- Much more eye opening beauty
I am here for another three weeks and will never feel like I could sufficiently scratch the surface in describing what I experience every day. I think that is also partly why I haven't blogged - it is an overwhelming task...There is so much to say that words cannot hold a candle to.
Up until last week I was thoroughly enjoying myself here. I love it so much. I find Pune, India to be a beautiful mess. I was eating all the foods the locals were eating, partaking in all the local activities. Then, of course, I got sick. I knew it was coming, but I had no idea how rough it would hit. I figured since I was going to be here for so long (~1.5 months all together) that I should be able to eat what I want to eat. WRONG. I fell terribly ill and have lost around 10 pounds as a result. After one week of eating hardly anything, I am able to eat bananas and rice. That's actually an exaggeration, because I went to McDonald's today for lunch and had a McChicken Sandwich (note: no beef on the menu - Holy Cow has a different meaning here). I did not touch the Coke because it came out of a fountain, which was probably supplied by local water, which probably has amoeba, which is probably what infected my body, which made me feel like death, which made me currently very afraid to eat anything. And it comes full circle. I do not think I can afford to lose another 10 pounds.
Enough about pain and suffering, because I felt great today! Going to bed now. Have to rest what my doctor called a "delicate western body" because I was dancing to traditional Indian songs all night tonight on a rooftop overlooking this wonderful city. Have I mentioned that I love my life yet?
There is so much to talk about, so I figured I will give a glimpse of Pune, India through my eyes on my commute to work every morning. It is a 15 minute commute, during which my driver miraculously maneuvers and weaves meticulously through unmanaged clusters of motorbikes, rickshaws, trucks, elephants, cows, you name it, unscathed and for arrival on time to work... Here are some of the things I have born witness to *keep in mind this is a city of 8 million people:
- A rainbow of sari-wearing women with jewels all over contrasting with the thick layer of dirt coating everything surrounding them
- A small concrete temple in which people pray every day and my driver says a short silent prayer to on the way to work
- Hand-crafted "huts" made of items found from the litter that exists everywhere
- One nice stretch of road with hand-laid bricks followed and preceded by dirt roads, potholes, roads in construction
- Women balancing bags, baskets, boxes, water jugs, etc on their heads as they walk
- Men with rifles guarding the more upscale or "western" hangouts
- Bamboo scaffolding on the hundreds of buildings in construction
- Men in turbans
- Entire families of four riding on a motorbike or moped
- Beautifully hand-painted cargo trucks, that say in all caps on the back "Please Use Horn - OK"
- Hand painted road signs in English and in Hindi
- Hundreds of thousands of people
- Children, bare butted, pooping on the non-existent sidewalk while their mothers stand guard
- Cows and bulls creating traffic jams
- Road workers sleeping on the sidewalk in forts created by placing sheets of plastic between the oil barrels that they use to fix the bridge during the day
- Beautiful condos under construction
- An elephant with the Hindu "Om" symbol painted between its eyes carrying two boys while another boy (~8 years old) guides it down the street with a whip in hand
- A herd of goats of all different colors (so cute!)
- Stray packs of dogs eating garbage
- Hand painted corrugated metal homes with women sweeping the doorsteps out front with hand made straw brooms
- Teenage boys bathing in their underwear by dumping buckets of water on themselves
- Three wheeled rickshaws carrying 6 people
- Cargo trucks carrying dozens of people in suits to work
- Horns constantly beeping, whose tones vary depending on the size and authority of the vehicle
- Poor, skinny, dark, dismembered and dirty people (young, adult, and old) with hands cupped begging for money and food
- The only cat I've seen thus far in India; the chicken I ordered at the Chinese restaurant didn't taste like the chicken I'm used to
- People riding a camel
- Bulls in stables next to neat piles of their hand-pounded round dung cakes used for fire-starters
- Men hand- turning a mill that produces sugar cane juice next to a messy block-long line of people waiting for their sugar fix
- A focused boy around the age of 9, with screwdriver in hand, repairing a grown man's motorcycle while the man scrutinizes his impeccable work
- A fish and chicken market
- Oranges arranged perfectly in pyramids on carts lining the street
- Three grown men on a moped
- A green river stuffed with litter on whose banks bulls are grazing and huts stand in a chaotic order
- Dry sunny heat (I wake up every morning and wish for rain)
- Women with their heads wrapped driving motorcycles in kurtas to work
- Much more eye opening beauty
I am here for another three weeks and will never feel like I could sufficiently scratch the surface in describing what I experience every day. I think that is also partly why I haven't blogged - it is an overwhelming task...There is so much to say that words cannot hold a candle to.
Up until last week I was thoroughly enjoying myself here. I love it so much. I find Pune, India to be a beautiful mess. I was eating all the foods the locals were eating, partaking in all the local activities. Then, of course, I got sick. I knew it was coming, but I had no idea how rough it would hit. I figured since I was going to be here for so long (~1.5 months all together) that I should be able to eat what I want to eat. WRONG. I fell terribly ill and have lost around 10 pounds as a result. After one week of eating hardly anything, I am able to eat bananas and rice. That's actually an exaggeration, because I went to McDonald's today for lunch and had a McChicken Sandwich (note: no beef on the menu - Holy Cow has a different meaning here). I did not touch the Coke because it came out of a fountain, which was probably supplied by local water, which probably has amoeba, which is probably what infected my body, which made me feel like death, which made me currently very afraid to eat anything. And it comes full circle. I do not think I can afford to lose another 10 pounds.
Enough about pain and suffering, because I felt great today! Going to bed now. Have to rest what my doctor called a "delicate western body" because I was dancing to traditional Indian songs all night tonight on a rooftop overlooking this wonderful city. Have I mentioned that I love my life yet?
Tips for travel from Geneve airport
Top reasons why you leave over 3 hours ahead of flight time when flying out of the Geneva International Airport
1. You need to check out of your hotel
2. You need to return your rental car
3. You may forget what country you are in because it may be 4 in the morning and you have been in 5 over the last two in a half weeks. When you try to pay in Euros while in Switzerland, you will be told you need Swiss Franc coins to pay for parking on your way out of the parking lot at the hotel, which may require extra minutes for digging through luggage to find coins resting at the bottom
4. You might get to the parking gate and realize that you cannot get out because you were probably supposed to pre pay somewhere else
5. In a fluster, you then might back into a parking spot to figure out how to prepay for parking, and not see the pole there because you arent used to driving a Mercedes hatchback, which was a free upgrade that you now regret taking because the collision damage probably costs more. You may not see the pole, but you will definitely hear the crunch.
6. After fighting back a panic attack, you will probably figure out to pay for parking, but the next challenge will probably be how to fill up your gas tank.
7. You might find a gas station, choose the one that you think probably means unleaded in French, but realize that you somehow need to prepay and there is no one working because it is 430 a.m. You may manage to find the credit card machine, but accidentally bypass the English language selection because you slipped your credit card in early and then the machine assumes you speak french fluently. After attempting to translate and click what you think are the right buttons, you think you have successfully prepaid because there is now a green flashing light.
8. You might now lift the gas pump that is probably unleaded, but realize you dont know how to open the tank. You frantically might search for the gas tank opener button (yes, this is the technical term). Then, desperately, you might open the user manual and pray that someone else might need gas and miraculously speak english and coincidentally own a mercedes. For approximately ten minutes, you might search through the user manual three times because, clearly, it is all in German and you probably dont speak a lick of it. After failing to find how to open the tank, you might again try what you had tried three times before -- pushing the tank door on the side of the car in various positions. Great success. After refuelling, you will search for a receipt of some sort to no avail, then proceed to the next challenge: finding the airport and rental car return, which probably wont direct you in english.
9. You will probably find the place to return your rental quite easily, with some minor five minute setbacks and U-turns due to wrong translations of signs.
10. You will probably find this whole process quite easy, but may have some extra depressor moments added due to re-reading what you signed up to pay when you confidently signed the rental agreement a day earlier.
11. You will most likely now have to wait 10 minutes for the airport shuttle bus which adds another five minutes in transit to the airport.
12. You then may have to pick up your luggage which you left in the railway station 7 days ago because you didnt want to carry huge bags to 4 different countries in 1.5 weeks.
13. You will first need to figure out where exactly the railway station is, which takes 3 to 4 minutes. Once you see the sign, you will probably now begin to run in your heels through a bare and lonely railway station where nothing is open because it is only 5 in the morning.
14. Your pace might quicken as you have a minor attack of fear when you realize that all the restaurants with Ferme (Closed) signs might actually be predictors of what you will probably see at the Baggage storage.
15. Indeed, that is probably what you will see at the Baggage storage.
16. You will probably then work to fight back another anxious fit and seek any soul that looks like they hold any power or keys to unlock your bag.
17. Five minutes later, you might see some souls and lights on at the Baggage storage. You jump up and down happily because this is the most hope you have had all day and you want to get their attention.
18. With no English, it will probably be communicated to you that you need to give them your ticket and after freaking out because you dont know where it is, they add icing to the already well iced cake...No ticket, No baggage: this well rehearsed line, to your fortune, is the only thing the baggage keeper knows in english.
19. You will probably spend approximately 15 to 20 minutes pulling apart your bags for the treasure ticket that you dont even remember what it looks like. After going through around 100 receipts you have kept in various locations throughout your luggage for your expense reports, you finally find the cute, lovely little plain white ticket that looks nearly identical to all of the other 100 receipts you have. Even though the baggage keeper has repeated many times that they were closed and locked the door on you, you manage to grab his attention because of your waving arms and tears falling down your face.
20. Clearly, you need to dig through your bags again because they need exact change for 70 swiss francs because he communicates with hand motions and facial expressions (picture hands up in the air surrender stance) that he cannot open the money drawer, since they are closed. After realizing the baggage keeper has a very tiny heart and is trying to get an extra 30 francs for his hard extra work, you stubbornly stare at him and wait for him to open the drawer to get you your change for 100 franc.
21. Finally you can shove all your receipts in your bag and go to Check in for your flight, that you think are borderline late for because you have probably been through the headache of security and check in at Geneva to know.
22. When you check your flight number on your Blackberry to figure out which gate to check in at, you realize that your flight is an hour later than you thought.
And that is how it is done. Also, you will need extra time to document this in the airport lounge because the kezboard has switched the z and y kezs since it is French.
1. You need to check out of your hotel
2. You need to return your rental car
3. You may forget what country you are in because it may be 4 in the morning and you have been in 5 over the last two in a half weeks. When you try to pay in Euros while in Switzerland, you will be told you need Swiss Franc coins to pay for parking on your way out of the parking lot at the hotel, which may require extra minutes for digging through luggage to find coins resting at the bottom
4. You might get to the parking gate and realize that you cannot get out because you were probably supposed to pre pay somewhere else
5. In a fluster, you then might back into a parking spot to figure out how to prepay for parking, and not see the pole there because you arent used to driving a Mercedes hatchback, which was a free upgrade that you now regret taking because the collision damage probably costs more. You may not see the pole, but you will definitely hear the crunch.
6. After fighting back a panic attack, you will probably figure out to pay for parking, but the next challenge will probably be how to fill up your gas tank.
7. You might find a gas station, choose the one that you think probably means unleaded in French, but realize that you somehow need to prepay and there is no one working because it is 430 a.m. You may manage to find the credit card machine, but accidentally bypass the English language selection because you slipped your credit card in early and then the machine assumes you speak french fluently. After attempting to translate and click what you think are the right buttons, you think you have successfully prepaid because there is now a green flashing light.
8. You might now lift the gas pump that is probably unleaded, but realize you dont know how to open the tank. You frantically might search for the gas tank opener button (yes, this is the technical term). Then, desperately, you might open the user manual and pray that someone else might need gas and miraculously speak english and coincidentally own a mercedes. For approximately ten minutes, you might search through the user manual three times because, clearly, it is all in German and you probably dont speak a lick of it. After failing to find how to open the tank, you might again try what you had tried three times before -- pushing the tank door on the side of the car in various positions. Great success. After refuelling, you will search for a receipt of some sort to no avail, then proceed to the next challenge: finding the airport and rental car return, which probably wont direct you in english.
9. You will probably find the place to return your rental quite easily, with some minor five minute setbacks and U-turns due to wrong translations of signs.
10. You will probably find this whole process quite easy, but may have some extra depressor moments added due to re-reading what you signed up to pay when you confidently signed the rental agreement a day earlier.
11. You will most likely now have to wait 10 minutes for the airport shuttle bus which adds another five minutes in transit to the airport.
12. You then may have to pick up your luggage which you left in the railway station 7 days ago because you didnt want to carry huge bags to 4 different countries in 1.5 weeks.
13. You will first need to figure out where exactly the railway station is, which takes 3 to 4 minutes. Once you see the sign, you will probably now begin to run in your heels through a bare and lonely railway station where nothing is open because it is only 5 in the morning.
14. Your pace might quicken as you have a minor attack of fear when you realize that all the restaurants with Ferme (Closed) signs might actually be predictors of what you will probably see at the Baggage storage.
15. Indeed, that is probably what you will see at the Baggage storage.
16. You will probably then work to fight back another anxious fit and seek any soul that looks like they hold any power or keys to unlock your bag.
17. Five minutes later, you might see some souls and lights on at the Baggage storage. You jump up and down happily because this is the most hope you have had all day and you want to get their attention.
18. With no English, it will probably be communicated to you that you need to give them your ticket and after freaking out because you dont know where it is, they add icing to the already well iced cake...No ticket, No baggage: this well rehearsed line, to your fortune, is the only thing the baggage keeper knows in english.
19. You will probably spend approximately 15 to 20 minutes pulling apart your bags for the treasure ticket that you dont even remember what it looks like. After going through around 100 receipts you have kept in various locations throughout your luggage for your expense reports, you finally find the cute, lovely little plain white ticket that looks nearly identical to all of the other 100 receipts you have. Even though the baggage keeper has repeated many times that they were closed and locked the door on you, you manage to grab his attention because of your waving arms and tears falling down your face.
20. Clearly, you need to dig through your bags again because they need exact change for 70 swiss francs because he communicates with hand motions and facial expressions (picture hands up in the air surrender stance) that he cannot open the money drawer, since they are closed. After realizing the baggage keeper has a very tiny heart and is trying to get an extra 30 francs for his hard extra work, you stubbornly stare at him and wait for him to open the drawer to get you your change for 100 franc.
21. Finally you can shove all your receipts in your bag and go to Check in for your flight, that you think are borderline late for because you have probably been through the headache of security and check in at Geneva to know.
22. When you check your flight number on your Blackberry to figure out which gate to check in at, you realize that your flight is an hour later than you thought.
And that is how it is done. Also, you will need extra time to document this in the airport lounge because the kezboard has switched the z and y kezs since it is French.
I Switzerland, I Morocco, I Amsterdam
I heard drums on my way to dinner at the Heineken Hoek and was immediately drawn to them. It felt like human natural instinct to move towards the beats. When I found the epicenter of the sound waves, I saw that many others had the same natural instinct. The beats spoke to all of us, arousing differing degrees of physical motion. But, as I gazed at the faces of most gathered around the drummer's circle, I saw that one thing was consistent amongst everyone, and it was definitely not race, culture, age, nationality, shape, size, gender, past experience, style. This one thing was a smile. If the mouth wasn't upturned in this position, the eyes glimmered with what was deeply felt by everyone's soul. And that was a mutually awakened, universal smile. I saw others notice this as well and it brought tears to my eyes. It is amazing what art, music, and the beauty in life can do to humankind-- cross all barriers and bring us together as one.
I felt this at the museum I went to today: the Van Gogh Museum. There was a long, dense line outside the modest exterior of the building, full of people speaking una ensalada de idiomas, but we all understood one common language, which brought us all to the same location. That common language is universal beauty. As I got pushed around and my bubble was "invaded", I forced myself to instead of take offense, stand back and love the fact that we were all so eager to experience what the art does to that inexplicable part of us-- that part that drives this mutual understanding of peace and appreciation for beauty.
It is my opinion that we will never fully understand what is beneath the mutual feeling, but that thought actually comforts me. I am okay with the limitations of human understanding. Although I love science, I also realize the limitations of it and I try as little as possible to apply much weight to human understanding/intelligence/knowledge.
I really feel that our race continuously views humans as "superior" to other species, even as we continuously work towards the demise of our own species. The human race has hardly even scratched the surface of evolutionary history. Consider the dragonfly, which just simply happens to be something I have researched because I find it to be one of the most beautiful and symbolic creatures-- they have been around since before the time of dinosaurs. Can we really, honestly claim, that we are superior to these beautiful beings? Not that I believe that we are inferior. No. I am simply saying, "why claim any stance on superiority?" Just because we can kill them doesn't mean we are "better" or "smarter" or "more advanced". If you look at the long term picture, although they can't defend themselves in the very moment that a human squashes them, they have defended their species for millenia. How do we know that the dragonfly's intelligence is so limited? Just because we cannot see it, feel it, or understand it, are we really qualified to take a stance or have an opinion on this issue?
------------Here is where I took a break to drink some Heineken and realized that I hadn't looked up from my Moleskine notebook for about 20 minutes, wrote a personal note and continued at the next stop: an Indonesian restaurant (there are many Indonesians in Holland due to the Dutch colony there)--------
Ok, after further review, I have decided that the things I continued to write in my Moleskine may be a little too intense for now. One key excerpt: "Nevertheless, this is a beautiful journey I am on. I appreciate every moment: hard/easy, happy/sad, lonely/social, work/play, sleeping/awake....
Someone asked me as I was writing in my Hemmingway Moleskine what I was writing about. After I explained to him my fascination with universal appreciation of beauty, we somehow managed to arrive at the topic of geneology. Coincidence? I am having a hard time figuring out why we got to that subject and its relation to mutual understanding. I think I will have to sleep on it.
I ate an incredible Indonesian meal tonight across from the Argentinian steakhouse where I ate last night.
Amsterdam is fabulous. From what I have experienced, Dutch people are the most friendly people in the world, next to maybe the Thai. They are super tall and I am convinced that everyone carries at least one sandwich in their pocket. I am also convinced that these two parameters are not independent of one another.
Tomorrow I fly to Geneva and rent a car to drive from Geneva to Grenoble, France. I am terrified to drive in Europe, but at least I will be on the same side of the road. Tuesday morning I fly to India. I will spend 1.5 months there. At least.
Cheers.
Sitting in Casablanca with an Arkansas t-shirt on
Dear blog,
I have been cheating on you. You can't blame me though - you are much less easy to transport than my freebie Grant Thornton purple notebook that my dad got for free and gifted to me for Christmas, and definitely less pocketable than my Moleskine notebook, the one I feel fancy writing in because it is the notebook that Ernest Hemingway wrote in, even though it makes my hand hurt and my sentences shorter. So, I have to be completely honest....I have written about 6 entries since our last visit, and quite frankly, I'm not sure that I can share with you all of the drawn out details that I shared with my other notebooks. Maybe some day we can get to that point. I hope you can understand that it was very personal. I hope you also understand that writing in a journal as I eat dinner alone makes time fly by much quicker.
I sit here with a smaller amount of baggage than I carried yesterday, but it is still more than I want to be carrying. It is NOT sustainable. I think my next blog will be dedicated to this theme - baggage. It is such a fitting metaphor for this travel escapade that I cannot ignore it.
I spent most of the day traveling today, with my start point in Nyon, which is a small town between Lausanne and Geneva, Switzerland that I was visiting because it happens that my great-grandmother, Elizabeth Ammon worked in this adorable Swiss town. I have come to really adore this woman and she has become a sort of inspiration for me over the last few days of travel. Long story short, I traveled all weekend, seeking out my roots - retracing the footsteps of Elizabeth Ammon in Switzerland, prior to her departure to the US to start the American lineage the descends from my Grandma Schoonenberg. Incredible experience.
It is truly amazing when you have sensations that drive where you walk and where you explore, and you don't know why. You just have to believe that your body is taking you to a place that is important. I read recently about migrating birds and how humans have tried to understand via different experiments and theories how migratory birds find their way home. They haven't quite figured it out yet, but they seem to think it has something to do with the sun. I have been wondering how the hell I found out four days ago that I was working, overlooking Lake Geneva, only ten minutes by train away from a place that my great-grandmother worked, overlooking Lake Geneva and the very same mountains. Not only did I find this out, but I was compelled to visit this place and when I was there, I felt an extreme sense of understanding, comfort and peace, almost like it was some sort of home. I found myself looking at old buildings and fields and trees that had no direct meaning, but I knew I should be taking the sensations in, like I had some sort of deeper understanding with certain things around me without any needed rationale.
Unbelievably, the place where Elizabeth Ammon worked has since been converted into a National Swiss Museum, full of ancient Swiss relics, in addition to artifacts from the school at the Chateau that she worked in as a maid. Coincidentally, I met the curator for the museum, who was fascinated by my story and I was so overcome with emotion that I cried when she told me that just a few steps away were the maid's quarters.
That was Nyon. I carried a lot of baggage with me there, up and down the winding streets, through chilling winds off of Lake Geneva. It was stupendous.
I traveled all day today with a colleague who happens to also be very interested in what I am - ecodesign and Life Cycle Assessment, so we chatted the whole plane ride from Geneva to Casablanca. Casablanca is fabulous. I have been to Morocco before on a weekend tour from Spain, but I do not remember spending any time here in the city. It is a very metropolitan place, with a population of around 4 million. Other than the fact that things are written in Arabic, traffic is mildly horrible and most people walking around in muslim garb, you would feel like you are in a European city.
We walked around through the rain, accompanied by my boss, to find a place to eat dinner and happened upon what we thought was a restaurant, but was actually a hookah bar, where people apparently did not come to eat food. So, we happily ate dinner like outsiders, followed by apple flavored hookah and watched the landscape of the "restaurant" evolve throughout the evening. It started with around 10 people besides us, very conservatively dressed. I felt so uncomfortable in taking off my trenchcoat, because I was showing my bare arms (considered sexual, I think), that I wore my coat the rest of the evening. But, interestingly, around 10 p.m. a lot more people showed up, including women. Not just women, but women scantily clad. It was very interesting. To put it frankly, I believe we were actually amidst some sort of "pleasure place", for lack of more appropriate words. We pretended not to notice and happily chatted (or I was more lectured) on how America is messed up and the politics are all wrong until it was time to go back to the hotel for a nice night's rest before our plant visit tomorrow.
Bon nuit!
Pivot Point
I embarked on my journey at 3:10 p.m. at the International airport in Cleveland. I won't bore you with many of the details because, quite frankly, it was not that exciting. The most exciting parts of my trip were the hallucinations I went through while trying to force myself to stay awake for dinner after popping an entire Ambien (sleeping pill). It was actually pretty scary - I hallucinated that people around my were ghost-like demons. Apparently I had my eyes open because the girl sitting next to me kept asking me if I was ok. I didn't snap out of it until 8 hours later. I will be sticking to 1/2 pill from now on. I'm just really glad I didn't try to hijack the plane or something else in my sleep. Fortunately, I found myself conscious again in the Heathrow airport in London, where I had a connecting flight from British Airways to my final destination - Geneva, Switzerland.
A few comments here: the Heathrow airport is amazing, but apparently it is known to be a black hole for luggage?! Never. Fly. There. Also, since when did airplanes take on spaceship-like pods for special people in first class? Those things are wild! I wasn't in one of those, but I was stuck in the middle of two very nice women in coach... I was quite content with my airplane pillow, Ambien, ear plugs, and drool (besides the nightmarish hallucinations of course).
Yesterday, to keep myself awake, I dropped off my carry-ons (note: checked bags were lost) in my room and set out to explore the city. I walked around for about 5 hours...I first happened upon some really ancient museum that had nothing written in English in the old part of town, and found myself in a room with famous paintings by Van Gough, Monet, Hodler, Renoir, etc. I was struck by the paintings of Lake Geneva by Ferdinand Hodler and immediately fell in love. It inspired me to spend over an hour reflecting aside the lake today...more on this later. I couldn't find a bathroom in the museum, so I continued to walk around the city for a few more hours. I am embarrassed to admit that even after all of my travel adventures, I was afraid to go in somewhere to pee because I hardly speak any French. I finally gained enough courage and urinary urge to enter a Boulangerie (bakery) for some chocolat chaud (it is one of the only things I can say, meaning hot chocolate) and some delicious pastry custard thing that I pointed at. The owner was very kind and we communicated mainly with gestures, my broken french, and spanish.
For those of you who travel alone, I respect you. I had no idea what a difference friends or family make during travels until yesterday. Granted I was jet-lagged, PMSing, and in a totally different country where I didn't know the language, customs or culture, but still...It is nice to share these experiences with another human. I will definitely learn to be comfortable with solitude over the next four months. I was so excited to talk to my waiter and Americans at the table next to me last night at dinner, since I was sick of myself!
Apparently I shouldn't have smiled so much and been so friendly to my 65+ year old waiter, because after I left my tip billed to my room number, he showed up at my room without a peep-holed door a half hour later with a free glass of wine in hand. I burst into tears due to all the factors in play (reference: paragraph above). He took that opportunity to step into my room, hug me, rub my back and lunge in for a kiss. I promptly pushed him away and said "No" multiple times, which is one of the few words that translates directly from French - thank god. He quickly scampered off. That was unnecessary and an incredibly unfortunate event on my first night, but I'm over it. I really didn't expect that in Switzerland, so it was a good lesson. That doesn't really stop the vomit sensation I have as I write about this.
This morning I spent several hours trying to retrieve one bag, then another. Then, around 2, I left my depressing hotel room to hit the streets. Today was a much brighter day! It probably helped that I had such a low baseline to benchmark against from yesterday, but nevertheless, today was a beautiful day during which I had a bit of a spiritual awakening on the shores of Lake Geneva. I walked first to the train station to find a new adapter and figure out how to get to work in Morges tomorrow morning. I am amazed at how easy this will be. I love public transit. In my weakened state due to only having ingested a Snickers Marathon bar and my hotel room's instant coffee, I hit Starbucks. I refused it yesterday, but today I needed it. I ordered in French, so I don't feel bad about bypassing the local option. Plus, I needed something I could rely on since it is important to keep awake to avoid jet lag. Excuses aside, the Grande Cappuccino was perfect.
The weather was grand...It was sunny and probably about 45, which is a wonderful switch from the 33 degrees with rainy snow/sleet that was Cleveland the last three weeks. I meandered through the alleys and small streets near my hotel and found all the watch shops and probably came across just as many Kebab places. Why don't we have this much Doner in America? It is amazing.
I found an oasis on a bench overlooking Lake Geneva with the snow-capped mountains behind it. I sat back and relaxed, and looked at everything through an artist's eye. I imagined what I would focus on as a painter, as a photographer, as a writer. It was probably one of the most profound moments of my life. I closed my eyes to shut out the beauty of the landscape and absorb all the sounds. I was amazed by the diverse set of life that was represented in the course of only a minute or two --
An airplane's jet engine buzzing high in the sky. A helicopter's propeller vibrations. Cars whizzing past. A street car rocking on its tracks. People's footsteps between conversation in german, french, english, vietnamese, italian. Waves gently sloshing rhythmically against the shore. A ship's horn. A boat's engine. Seagulls squaking with wings flapping. Ducks quacking. Running pants swooshing.
Then the smells --
The fresh water vapor in the air from the lake. Pigeon and seagull feces. Diesel exhaust. Clear blue air. The smell of raindrops mixed with sunshine. Spring flowers and grass peeking out of the dirt dampened by yesterday's rain.
How beautiful is it that all of this is happening here at this location because of water?
I remembered today why I love my life. I remembered today why I love to travel. Traveling helps me focus on the essence and purity in life: the details gathered by the senses.
Ok - enough sap and journal writing for today. Kebab rocks and I love Switzerland!
Short-term itinerary:
Morges, Switzerland: March 1st - March 5th
????, Switzerland or France: March 5th - March 8th
Casablanca, Morocco: March 8th - March 10th
????: March 10th - March 29th
March 29th + One month or more: Pune, India