So you don't all start to think that my life has absolutely no structure, that I'm just jumping on trains left and right, I wanted to make sure you knew that I do have the semblance of a regular routine.
On January 10th I finally moved into my permanent housing for the semester. Along with 4 other international students, I'm living in the home of the Mohan and Sudha Ramanan. Mohan, or "Uncle" as we call him, is the dean of humanities at the University and an English professor, while Sudha, "Auntie," is the vice-principal at a nearby international school. Uncle's mother also lives here, as well as Alok, a doctoral student, and Durga, the Ramanan's housekeeper and cook. Durga is the sweetest person, though unfortunately the language barriers make it difficult for me to communicate with her at lengths. (She speaks Telugu, which is a prevalent language throughout South Indian.) Last year the Ramanans had an international student who stayed with them for the year also named Becca, so for the first week or so whenever Durga needed to tell all of us something she would call me. I'd like to think that I'm her favorite, but really it's just that she knows my name best.
Every morning Durga cooks us breakfast at 7:30am which always consists of toast, oatmeal with warm milk and honey in it, and chai. We live about 5 minutes from the main gate of campus, so after breakfast a catch a shared auto (not a rickshaw, but this bigger white van that travels along a set route). It costs Rs.5 to get to school. At the gate, I jump on my bike and ride to the other end of campus for my 9am Hindi class. (Today we had our first major test on the numbers 1-20, plural nouns and adjectives, and describing our family and friends. Don't worry, I said that you all are lovely people.) I try to leave Hindi about 5 minutes so that I can make a mad dash back down to main campus for my Modern Indian History class. My history professor is great-- she can lecture with absolutely no notes whatsoever and is willing to answer almost any question, even if it's not history-related. She also wears beautiful saris. I have these two classes Monday through Thursday for one hour each day, while my other two classes (Women's History in 18th to 20th century India and Indian Human Rights) meet for two hours twice a week. It ends of being more class time than I'm used to back at Dickinson; also, 2 hour-long lectures are sort of rough. I eat lunch on campus most days. At the student canteen you can get "one meal" for Rs.18, which consists of a big plate of rice, 3 different kinds of curry, and curd. I've discovered that meals are easier to order than the individual dishes because than you can just thrust your little meal chip at one of the cooks and get an immediate turnaround. I haven't quite picked up the steady pushing that all of the Indian students use to get the chip-less dishes yet, so I've been sticking with the meals. I've become quite adept at eating with my hands, if I do say so myself. Well, actually, it's more like eating with your right hand because you're not supposed to touch food with your left hand because it's your "poop" hand. I'm just glad I'm not left handed.
At the end of the day, I bike back to the gate, get on a shared auto going in the opposite direction, and go home for dinner. Dinner is always some combination of rice, vegetables, a chutney, and dahl or sambar (a lentil-based sauce that goes on the rice). The Ramanans are vegetarians, like many Hindus, so I have a pretty different diet here. The food, however, is delicious and incredibly spiced. I love living in a home-stay because I feel so much more connected to Indian culture. Every morning when I come down to breakfast I get to hear Uncle singing in their home shrine. Even the simple commute each way to school makes me feel much more immersed in India.
On January 10th I finally moved into my permanent housing for the semester. Along with 4 other international students, I'm living in the home of the Mohan and Sudha Ramanan. Mohan, or "Uncle" as we call him, is the dean of humanities at the University and an English professor, while Sudha, "Auntie," is the vice-principal at a nearby international school. Uncle's mother also lives here, as well as Alok, a doctoral student, and Durga, the Ramanan's housekeeper and cook. Durga is the sweetest person, though unfortunately the language barriers make it difficult for me to communicate with her at lengths. (She speaks Telugu, which is a prevalent language throughout South Indian.) Last year the Ramanans had an international student who stayed with them for the year also named Becca, so for the first week or so whenever Durga needed to tell all of us something she would call me. I'd like to think that I'm her favorite, but really it's just that she knows my name best.
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| Durga at our front door. (You'll notice that the 2 birds in the muggu aren't exactly symmetrical-- that's because I drew them. Durga is an expert muggu-ist.) |
Every morning Durga cooks us breakfast at 7:30am which always consists of toast, oatmeal with warm milk and honey in it, and chai. We live about 5 minutes from the main gate of campus, so after breakfast a catch a shared auto (not a rickshaw, but this bigger white van that travels along a set route). It costs Rs.5 to get to school. At the gate, I jump on my bike and ride to the other end of campus for my 9am Hindi class. (Today we had our first major test on the numbers 1-20, plural nouns and adjectives, and describing our family and friends. Don't worry, I said that you all are lovely people.) I try to leave Hindi about 5 minutes so that I can make a mad dash back down to main campus for my Modern Indian History class. My history professor is great-- she can lecture with absolutely no notes whatsoever and is willing to answer almost any question, even if it's not history-related. She also wears beautiful saris. I have these two classes Monday through Thursday for one hour each day, while my other two classes (Women's History in 18th to 20th century India and Indian Human Rights) meet for two hours twice a week. It ends of being more class time than I'm used to back at Dickinson; also, 2 hour-long lectures are sort of rough. I eat lunch on campus most days. At the student canteen you can get "one meal" for Rs.18, which consists of a big plate of rice, 3 different kinds of curry, and curd. I've discovered that meals are easier to order than the individual dishes because than you can just thrust your little meal chip at one of the cooks and get an immediate turnaround. I haven't quite picked up the steady pushing that all of the Indian students use to get the chip-less dishes yet, so I've been sticking with the meals. I've become quite adept at eating with my hands, if I do say so myself. Well, actually, it's more like eating with your right hand because you're not supposed to touch food with your left hand because it's your "poop" hand. I'm just glad I'm not left handed.
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| The afore-mentioned main gate of campus. |
At the end of the day, I bike back to the gate, get on a shared auto going in the opposite direction, and go home for dinner. Dinner is always some combination of rice, vegetables, a chutney, and dahl or sambar (a lentil-based sauce that goes on the rice). The Ramanans are vegetarians, like many Hindus, so I have a pretty different diet here. The food, however, is delicious and incredibly spiced. I love living in a home-stay because I feel so much more connected to Indian culture. Every morning when I come down to breakfast I get to hear Uncle singing in their home shrine. Even the simple commute each way to school makes me feel much more immersed in India.
i like the birds, reminds me of the cardinals you did in middle school
ReplyDeleteHaha, you're right, except I think these were supposed to be peacocks...
ReplyDelete