crazy world we live in...

One thing that I find truly amazing as life progresses is the people and activities to which we are drawn.

For example I have some great friends from UD around the world right now. My good friend Ligia is in Brazil working as a volunteer at an orphanage and hospital explaining to children about malnutrition and the importance of hygiene. I have a friend Jessie who is in New Zealand on an internship for the summer. My roommates and classmates are traveling to every continent, besides Antarctica wheter it be for ETHOS or internships or the joy of being young and free. Even my cousin Michelle went to Italy this summer as my sister went to China!

My particular favorite is a friend I met last summer in Germany. Her name is Laura and she rocks. She was the one who encouraged me to go to Switzerland where I repelled down a mountain and jumped out of an airplane on purpose. She lives/lived in Canada and we have been pen pals since last summer. This summer she went on a trip to Panama for some scuba diving. Well her being her, she ended up staying and getting her master divers certificate. She recently sent this to me

"I was just offered a job diving in Honduras, supervising a team of researchers on a reef conservation project on a nationally protected coral reef/chain of islands! I know almost nothing about what it's going to be like, but I know that it's one of the nicest dive sites in the world, so nice that tourists aren't allowed to go there. I'll be living with a team of researchers on the Caribbean island of Cayos Menor, in the Cayos Cochinos chain of islands, which we will have entirely to ourselves. It will be challenging because there will be no running water, electricity, or real beds, and it will be amazing because I'll be camping out on white sand beaches, diving 12-15 dives a week."

This is the kinda stuff that makes the world such a fun place. I certainly have bouts of jealousy for some of my friends in their crazy adventures around the world. So, friends, if you are reading this in a different country, different timezone, or different atmosphere, here's your shout out for being awesome. I got a few tricks up my sleeve before I leave India, so we'll be sure to swap stories at the local taverns at UD when we return.

Go big. Dont look back, or down.

-tim

pics

btw i threw a link up on the photo page. i put it into a pdf form so it doesnt take up much space! enjoy (these relate the the last 2 posts)

school fun

Trip to the School

Today was possible the coolest, most enjoyable day we had, solely because of our morning activity. Earlier in our term, we troubleshot a PV (Photovoltaic) system that wasn’t supplying any electricity to a school. Well, being UD engineers, we can solve anything…duh. And naturally, we fixed this which gave the schools power for lights and fans, somewhat important in the 40+ C (104+ F) daily weather. We returned to the site, this time to visit with the children who were in 9^th and 10^th grade. There were only about 15 in each level, and all came from extremely poor backgrounds. As in they formerly picked through the garbage looking for rags, string, plastic or anything they could try to use or sell for a few rupees (45 RS (rupees) = $1 USD). These were the poorest of the poor that had no education or expectations from leaving the lowest level of the caste system. All started as illiterate and had transformed into students speaking and wiring fluent Hindi, learning basic English and enjoying life as human and not an object.

We sat in a 9^th grade math class and found the class so insightful. We could understand the teacher teaching (thanks to our recently learned numbers and her writing them on the board) and much to our surprise, her style was very similar to how we have been taught in the US. She used examples problems, continuously getting more difficult and through questions & answers to the class to make sure everyone understands.

After class, we were invited into a small gathering hall where chairs were set up for us and the principal of the school, Fr. Albert; the children sat on the floor on mats. The children preformed several authentic Indian dances for us that they had been practicing for only a few days. They used so much energy and passion you couldn’t help but smile while watching them. I was able to video tape them, which I will post online once I get back to the US. They then sang songs to us in English about teddy bears touching the ground, which took about the third verse to understand what they were saying. This was followed by a question and answer session where the students asked us how we like India, what we do for fun In America, where is America, what the most famous place in the USA is, if poor people like them exist in America and how Tim’s beard got so long. One of the young students that excelled in his English class acted as a translator for us because most students could not understand English. Father asked us to sing a song for the students, and as much fun as we have at UD singing away on Karaoke Wednesday nights at Milano’s, we were not ready for this.

After some quick thinking, we decided to teach them a childhood favorite, Old McDonald. Luckily they had never heard of this so it worked out perfectly. Mary Ellen wrote the lyrics on the board as Tim explained old McDonald was farmer, who had animals on his farm, and these animals made noises, have fun with that, translator! The students were starting to understand the idea, so we began the lyrics using a cow as the first animal. We went line by line reciting it, then having the children recite it back. They loved the Moo Moo parts and the Eeei Eeei Ooh parts! We also did a duck and a dog, to their choosing and were able to sing the song all the way through. They had so much fun with this that words don’t describe the emotion we felt vibing from the children and teachers. Several of them got up and thank us for our time and sharing what we did with them. We took a few pictures and were on our way. As we were leaving, you could see each face through the gate, smiling, having the best day of their lives. We too were smiling, giddy with how much fun we just had.

torpa

Here are a few of the highlights from the last week. i will go into more detail on a few things.

.....

These last weeks have made this entire summer worthwhile. We will try to give the condensed version, but we’ll see how that goes

The trip to Torpa, which is near Ranchi, India, began a day later than planned. On our way to the train station, we almost cancelled the trip due to traffic jam (like rush hour traffic, but worse) and torrential downpour (we are in monsoon season here). Luckily, we made it to the train 10 minutes before it left, phew. The train ride is a story all by its self. We dealt with a very very rude man who wouldn’t move, then forced us to move, then snored the entire night. We were on a three tier sleeper train, and Mary Ellen and Tim got the top bunks. Tim didn’t fit, at all; his feet stuck out into the aisle, past the curtain, certainly a sight to see.

When we arrived on site, after a 1.5 hr jeep ride, which felt like we were off-roading most of the time, we had some breakfast, as it was not even 8am, and took a short rest before our first tech session. Everyone still in the same clothes, the clothes that were soaked the day before, the same clothes that we slept in, twice, we began our first ever class on Solar Troubleshooting 101. Some of the sisters that put the class together were videotaping and taking pictures of their beautiful leaders (us) as we went over the basic introductions. Oh, I forgot to mention, we are teaching about 40 Indians, from villages, that have very little education, if any, and speak no English. Immediately, we realized this was going to be one of those experiences. One that you know is going to be a challenge, but somewhere along the way, it all is going to click.

Fr. Paul, our host did most of the talking which helped. Since we have been in India for about 7 weeks, we have picked up very little Hindi, the language spoke most commonly here. We are learning that every state has its own dialect with some not even recognizing Hindi as a language! That would be like if every state in the US spoke a completely different language, mass confusion! The class was taught in Hindi with the exceptional English word for tools and components like resistor and capacitor.

The first day of class might have been the funniest. We divided the class into 5 groups receiving a multimeter to test voltage, amperage, etc, special screwdriver, mini screwdriver set, wire stripers, pliers, solder iron, flux, and paste. It was a solid set up, especially the special screwdriver that would light up if it was touching live power, aka in an outlet. So each member of the class lined up to put the screwdriver into the outlet. This was hilarious/absurd to us about how backwards this was, but a lot of it stemmed from some of the students never even seeing an electrical outlet before; they were just fascinated a screwdriver could light up. Seeing the students starting to grasped basic concepts about electricity brought us back to our youth and the first few years of college.

Over the course of 5 days, we taught an extensive amount about fuses, battery voltage and other very basic fixes to make their solar lanterns emit light again. These lanterns were the lifeline for the village people. Without them, they could do nothing past sun down, which is about 7pm every night. This lights allowed the women to cook, the children to study, and the men to work on the house, well past dark. We were impressed with how much was covered in this class and wished we could have taken this class too. The best part was the practical applications where the students got free range to attempt to repair broken solar lanterns. Surprisingly, they were fixing a few on the first day. Fr. Paul saw no problem with letting them try to solder and cut wires without even mentioning these techniques in class. It would be if a teacher told us to go to chemistry lab and saying ‘go’ without much other instruction. We never formally covered soldering, an integral part of troubleshooting circuit boards. Luckily, we both were pretty well versed in soldering, and were able to observe, attempt to coach the students, demonstrate how to correctly use the tools, and then explain what we did. It was difficult for us at first to just let them make mistakes, but by the end a large percentage of the class understood almost all the material we covered about circuits, Photovoltaic panels, series and parallel connections, how AC and DC currents differed and several other ELE topics that we did not learn about until well into our college curriculum. The language barrier did hinder quite a bit of our communication to the students as we could not understand everything they were being taught and the questions they had (different language, we only followed by drawings on the dry erase board and via questions to Fr. Paul.). They few words most knew were corrupt, good, and the basic electronic components names. The most rewarding part of this trip was seeing the students struggle with soldering, watch us do it once, then reattempt and create an ‘achaa’ (Hindi for good) connection. Their faces would light up then they would show it off to their classmates. In turn, they became the new solder master and explained it to others in the class, exactly what was desired to happen in these types of classes.

The final day commenced with the us handing the students certificates for completing the class. They were so happy. It was obvious they were very proud of themselves that they could now troubleshoot their own solar lanterns and create electrify for their entire house/village based on a simple solar panel system. The amount of thanks and praise we got from the students made our time fully worthwhile in Torpa.

Class ended around 430pm every day, so e had most of the afternoons off. We were able to go hiking in the nearby mountain range as well as learning ‘28’ an Indian card game similar to Euchre. The bugs there were the biggest we have seen so far. And the mosquitoes carried the Malaria virus so we made sure we were careful. At night, we slept in mosquito nets, like we have been accustomed to our entire stay here. Some nights it was so hot it was very difficult to find sleep, even with a fan running above us. Tim recalled one night, climbing into bed around 10pm (very late) and having giant beetles and such already covering his net. He said he could hear them buzzing and running into the fan, bouncing off the walls and ceiling, falling on to his net causing it to move. After while, the bugs noises just becomes a lullaby of sorts. The coolest part for us was playing futbal with the local children. It was a blast to see them run after us, chasing the ball. Most of them were under the age of 12. They called us father and sister respectively. Although some teachers later asked me if Tim was a cowboy or a priest, gotta love his hat! In the end, we donated the ball to the local children, after signing our names to it of course! This was an awesome trip, it also included the trip back on the sleeping train; both of us were again on the top bunk, living the Indian lifestyle, comfortable as can be.

unbelieveablyincredible

today rocked. def in contention to be the best day. i have been so busy lately its been hard to blog. I will spend some quality time with my keyboard tonight and fill you in on the rest of last week and today. seriously. im on cloud nine right now

-ei ei ooo-

:D

Sleeping on a train.

ook so little background. I and 6ft and about 200 lbs depending on that day’s consumption of rice and water. This sleeping on a train thing is going to be interesting.

The layout is this. There is a bench seat that fits 3 people somewhat spaciously, 4 people uncomfortably. This seat is probably 5 and a half feet. It is also the same length as the 3 beds. The back of the bench folds down into the first bed. The second bed folds down to chest level probably a good 4 and a half feet of the ground. It hooks into the 3^rd bed by 2 latches, one on either side. The third bed is at least 7 feet off the floor, well past me being able to see the surface of the bed. The beds are about 2 feet wide, nothing luxurious, made out of steel some leather and plastic seat material colored dirty blue stuffed with white-ish stuffing. The ceiling clearance was about 2.5 feet, just enough for you to think you can clear it by sitting up, only to nail your head half way up. This was my sleeping area. There was a mirrored image 3 feet directly across from this set up.

The train staff comes around and gives you a brown paper bag with 2 bed sheets in it, slightly larger than the bed itself. They also give you a pillow and blanket, the color and texture of a brown burlap sack. Oh and a facial towel. These are all allegedly clean, and frankly your only option unless you packed a whole bunch of sleeping stuff, which would be dumb. Or maybe it would be smart, idk, it was the situation we were in an it was accepted, so we moved on, very quickly.

So my bookbag full of all my clothes and meds and computer is now my first pillow, ouch, and the real pillow, not much of a pillow, was ontop of my bag. Since I could not see the bed, I struggled putting the sheets on, but I estimated I did a decent job. FAIL. Eh oh well. Could be worse…. So im in/on bed at 745 pm, im kinda excited, only sorta tired, so I started counting in my head, or at least I hope it was just in my head, in Hindi.

Within the hour I fell asleep, with the sheets falling off the bed, feet sticking off the end of the bed and out of the curtain. I am sure I was site to see.

I woke about 4am, still 2.5 hrs from arrival time. I have no sheets on the bed. One is on the floor, one is hanging on the chain, half way on a random dude below me. At least I still had the burlap sack on me… I toss and turn in my sleep, my mother can attest to this. Supposedly kick too. That explains the loss of sheets. Since I couldn’t get comfortable, no shocker, I kept turning over and causing my hip to slide across the plastic leather cushion creating a beautiful farting sound. It was a pretty great start to the day.

Side note. This was the second consecutive day I am wearing my blue shirt and third day for the green pants together with these socks not a big deal, but it plays a factor later... There was no changing for bed. You just sleep in what you are wearing. So, anyway day 2 in blue and green. Have not yet begun to smell, noticeably.

Train ride, success. We made it to the destination at 610am. Im groggy, sleepy, dazed and confused. Welcome to Ranchi…

The Train

So we board the train, an AC 3 Tier sleeper. I was excited and anxious to see what this adventure would hold for us travelers (me, Mary Ellen, Fr. Paul and Cosmos, not the magazine, the electrician who speaks very little English).

We have 4 seats, 2 upper beds, a middle and an aisle. Cosmos takes the aisle and father takes the middle, which leaves 2 uppers. Right. I grab the right side and Mary Ellen takes the left. But we all sit on the first level.

So a sister we met in Barh, India comes and sits next to us which was an unexpected surprise. She was going back to Barh, which was on the way. A middle age couple and a daughter maybe 14, and some random business looking guy also sit down. The guy looked like the kinda person who is just rude, who I will reference as RM for rude man.

Father phone rings again and he says something in Hindi and laughs, hanging up. He tell me that news is spreading about this American hero who is eating 24 mango is one day. I naturally start laughing. He says Tim, I'm not joking there is a lady from American, who is doing a documentary (this is true, I was planning on meeting her later to see what research she had done on the Jesuits in India and their influence throughout India.). She called up several times today trying to get ahold of you to have a interview with you and shake your hand. I laughed again. This is great. Im in India for 6 weeks and im spreading through the religious community as a ‘American fruit eating hero’ awesome. Haha. I plan on meeting here asap before she finds out the truth about my feat.

The train is going on hour 1 and the lster of being a train has worn off for about 55 minutes now, so we pull out the deck cards and RM is yelling into his phone. This isn’t a very uncommon thing to experience. Many people talk on their phones in close proximity to other people without regard to others’ ears. We start playing cards with Fr. Paul. We played Gin Rummy and regular rummy for 3 hours. These games have lost all fun they once had they are now only used to pass the time.

I resort to looking out the window and it is really dark, Fr. Is on his phone, RM is on his phone and Mary Ellen is talking to sister about the customs of married men and women and their dress and shopping. We want to go shopping and understand some of what we are shopping for so we need some help from someone who speaks English. Since we live with only males they are not connecting in the female fashion department so we made the necessary phone swappings so we could meet next week.

At the this time, RM got really rude and started shouting at me. I don’t know if he was starting to smell me or the gas I was having from the morning hard boiled eggs, but he wasn’t happy. So I just stared at him, very innocently… it wasn’t me… the seat smells this way, I swear. He didn’t stop. Neither did I, but it was very quickly losing its humor. I looked at father and RM started yelling at father. So father said some stuff back and RM says Hello excuse me… Hindi…… ok dude, I cant understand you. I got the hello excuse me, but you said that 4 times already. One greeting is sufficient. You have bad hygiene and I do not think I want to be your friend. Please stop yelling at me. Father told me to move seats because I was in his seat, even though he refused to show us his ticket, also common in india is riding trains without tickets and not moving unless authorities came, which are few and far between. So I moved. That stopped the yelling. Who woulda thought…

We ate our dinner, in silence, which was chipatae, I think more eggs and some vegetables wrapped in tin foil. RM started shouting and pointing and using no English so I stood up and offered to switch seats, which only made him extend his legs, its 730pm, I guess its bed time…

Trip to THORPAAAAAA

Intro to the trip

I guess the best place to start is the beginning.

Like most days here I don’t know whats happening until its about to happen. I thought we were leaving for this trip on Sunday, when actually the plan was Monday. I was mentally and physically ready for Sunday; the delay totally messed with my mind.

So its Monday. The train leaves at I think 430 and we planned to leave the compound around 2. I wasn’t sure why, the train station is an easy 15 minutes drive and there is NO security, so you get on the train when it gets there, whether you have been waiting minutes or hours.

So we get in the rickshaw (3 wheeled rusted 2-cycle means of transport popular in dense areas), and we start on our way. Andddd hit a traffic jam. And rain. Don’t forget, its monsoon season, which isn’t like Ohio summer rains. It’s like Seattle rain every day, all day, then be humid so this was expected to a point. But we are hanging out of this vehicle, which is normal and assumed. So each of us had different body parts getting wet, except the driver. I was lucky to only soak my left leg from mid thigh to ankle and left arm mid bicep to elbow. The others weren’t so lucky. After about an hour waiting we finally get through, which is good because father was about to call off the trip.

We got to the station about 10 minutes before the train was scheduled to depart. Well the train was late, another thing you can almost plan on, and we boarded almost an hour later. Father was on the phone the whole time and I was tired so kinda zoned off into space, as people stared at me and my hat. Haha ohh my hat

just checking in

this place is cool. really cool. i managed to find the internet for the first time since early this week, just enough time to post that im here, safe, healthy, and not suffering from too many 'discomforts'

this class we are teaching is fascinating. i wish i could be taking this.

the story ideas i have to post already fill more than half a sheet of paper. next week should be a fun week of posting, maybe ill get something done on the train, if no one is sitting on my lap...

peace love and mosquito nets covered in the biggest ugliest bugs.

-tim

beautiful night

tonight, was legit. we dint leave for our next off site trip yet instead, we kicked it. yes, we chillaxed with the jesuits. if these terms are unfamiliar to you, i am sorry. we hung out with the jseuits and had a great chilli chicken dinner. it was awesome. such a great night

i talked with them for almost 2 full hours about politics, the similarities of the US and India, the things I miss about home, American way of life. so much more.

I am truly blessed. this is incredible. i have so many people that care for and about me. its awesome. really.

im sorry for all the people that are having a difficult time back home. things will work out.

God bless to all. I will see you in a week.

peace and love...

Back for a sec...

We made it back to the Jesuit compound, aka home base, around 845pm last night. we had dinner and passed out. its been raining for 3 days straight. taking breaks every hour or so. I think were taking a night train tonight, so ill be back out of communication for a while.

We are going to this village which is more rugged than the other 2 sites we have been to. i am certain i will have some crazy things to show and tell.

everything is going well here. still 'healthy' lol. i have some nicks and bruises and cuts all over my arms and legs, which really dont feel too pleasant when dirt, grime, bugs and battery acid gets into them, but a night time 'bath' helps maintain some sanitation. the rest of my body has seen better days, but is in still prime working condition.

im about half way done with my excursion and will be home in about 30 days or so... its very very dangerous to think about the first meals i am going to have while home. and i am almost certain many of the foods will make me sick initially, but i am grinning just thinking about it!

like i said its raining so we are somewhat forced to stay inside. I will try to post some updates about this past week

.........Dont drink the waterrrrr........

MIA

hey folks, ill be away on another installation for the next few days. i should (hopefully) return on Saturday evening or Sunday some time.

Next week I leave for 12-18 days do troubleshoot solar lanterns and PV streetlights. I will be assisting in teach 35-60 villagers basics in electricity, PhotoVoltaic panels, how to troubleshoot, etc. all in their native tongue, Hindi. I am certain I will have many days of entertaining stories to share. Thanks for reading!

Good luck to everyone traveling this weekend, happy father's day, and good luck with the wedding Jackie!

-peace, love, and bearded smiles

pictures

i threw some pictures on to facebook. here the link

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150204364280933.318582.551295932&l=cad3a58c89

:)

Hiking

We also did some really cool things last week, one of them being hiking. So there is this sweet mountain range near us, well idk if you’d call it a mountain or a steep rocky hill. So Mary Ellen and I wanted to climb it. Brother agreed to go with us. We started walking through the fields toward the mountain and brother wanted to take the road, not free climb the mountain, we were disappointed to say the least. As we were walking, we met these two random Indians and brother talked to them and they decided to take us somewhere to get mangos. I was down for that. A little boy tagged along too.

So we walk through some more fields, and get to a slightly smaller mountain. And we start climbing and we get to these mango trees and this guy climbs us 35 feet in seconds and starts throwing fruit at me. He mighta said ‘hey I’m throwing these down to you American man, be ready to catch them’ but he didn’t speak English so for all I know he coulda been talking to the birds, or wasps that had a nest in the same tree.

So we kept hiking and the sun is setting, so I took pictures. It was awesome. And we kept climbing and you could see the whole village area. Seriously breath taking. I whipped out my knife and sliced up my mango and bit into it and started laughing as the juice started rolling down my chin. It tasted like a mango mixed with lemon or grapefruit. It was still soo good. I had 3. Since they just came off the tree, they weren’t ripe yet. Also many wild mangos are used for pickling and not summer consumption. So we’ve been hiking for almost 2 hours now and we starting to reach the end and we see these guys with wooden bows and wooden arrows. Like guys in their 20s, I guess hunting rabbits. As we were walking back we saw a soccer, sorry, futball game going on so we stopped and brother stated telling them I wanted to play, I’m wearing hiking boots. It’s getting dark. No one’s speaking English to me. I don’t know where I am. Sure I’ll play. Turns out they were just wrapping up. One guy did know some English and decided to show us his garden. We eventually left and he said they play futball at night and cricket in the morning between 5-6. Hmm…cool

Cricket

So I have no real interest in the game basically because I have never seen a match even on TV. I imagine most Americans haven’t. Well I guess India is good, like they won the world cup good. So many people play here.

Mary Ellen and I decided to go check it out. I’ve played baseball… how different can it be… right?

So we got up at 430. Got to the field 10 minutes before 5AM. Yea it was fully light out. But no one was at the field. Well there was one guy in his garden. Same garden from the night before. So we talked to him. It turns out it was the father of the guy we met last night. So he took us to his house. Well paraded us through the city and then his house. There was a cow there to greet us. We sat down and started talking. Turns out his father in law is a Jesuit, an American Jesuit that we have heard a ton about. So we swapped contact info and planned to meet up in Patna. He was a cool guy. He had a son age 23 a communications and electronics engineer. Biggest dream to go to America. Seems like every Indian has that dream; I’ve had at least 7 or 8 Indians tell me that. So we have tea then decide it’s time to play cricket, after of course another parade, where people joined behind us wondering what an American is doing in middle India in a town of grass huts population 1000. I was definitely the first American most had seen.

So were at the field and were counting off and picking teams. I was picked 4^th. Woah that’s high expectations. Do they know I don’t know the rules? No of course not. They don’t speak English so even though I’ve tried telling them they replied in Hindi and we both looked confused.

Se we take the field first. They tell me I’m playing catcher. So I’m touching the ball every play. Starting with the first one. Great. Not even a chance to see how the game is played. So I’m doing well, its kinda like baseball…. No its not. They play to a certain amount of outs, like 13 and u keep bating till you’re out. you can hit a one run, a two run, a four run, or a six run. Forwards, sideways and backwards. So you could hit a 6 run foul ball behind you. Weird. THEN, they said ‘do you want to be the baller?’ Uh yah sure. What does he do? Pitch the ball… ha lets point and laugh at the American. So they run about 20 meters and then throw the ball. I’m not that coordinated, but I try and the guy swings and misses and everyone cheers. So the motion is sorta like baseball pitching, but there are no strikes or balls. It has to hit this wooden stake to be an out. The ball can bounce or come in straight. I threw about 10 or so then someone else pitched. Thennnn they asked me to pitch again. It turns out I did well and you change every ten or so pitches…So after about an hour of this and a body covered in sweat, we took the bat. I’m up first. Really guys?

The bat, I’m assuming it’s called a bat, is shorter than a baseball bat, flat, but curved on one side and pointed on the other side. And you sorta tee it up like a golf club. And swing it like a golf club, but it weighs about 5.5 kilos. So I look awkward as can be. Mary Ellen took pictures the entire time. So I got documentation of all this. So I was doing well, actually I hit the ball abuncha times got some 4 runs and 6 runs and ran around and got sweatier and dirtier. I don’t think they called me out, cuz I batted the entire time and I know I was out at least 3 times. Thanks guys. Then one of my last at bats, I’m dripping sweat, the ball bounces I go to swing, half golf swing, half baseball swing, 100% ridiculous looking, and the bat slips… and flies a good 30 meters, behind me, in slow motion. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Luckily it didn’t hit anyone, or break and it really was funny. Everyone was rolling on the ground laughing.

When we ended we took about 30 photos on everyone’s phone camera. It was really really cool. I had so much fun learning a game from people that don’t speak my language. There were only 2 people that spoke English, but they were never near me to tell me what I was doing right or wrong. And I kept asking other questions and the others responded in Hindi. Yep. Nevermind.

….

Later that afternoon, I played my second cricket match in front of the school we were visiting before our train. Now Fr. Paul and our driver were watching. It was a blast, they both said I was a natural and need to start a league in the US… sounds great guys… so what are the rules again??

Random Humor

This trip had so much built in humor. We were told before we left you are going to be in situations where you are really stressed out and exhausted and just want to scream or cry, but just laugh because weeks from now, you will laugh at this.

On the first train. There are 4 people snoring around us. Not lightly, but full on sawing wood. And Fr. Paul had a lady sleeping on his armrest/lap as he leaned over and slept on her arm

No one understood Mary Ellen is lactose intolerant. So they insisted she drink buffalo milk, cow milk, goat milk, and buffalo curd. All these were then discreetly given to me.

Mangos are delicious but there is a limit your body can safely handle in one day. If this limit is crossed, bad things will ensue. If this limit is crossed every day for a week, you stomach goes on a fury of destruction and gets revenge.

Our toilet didn’t flush; there was actually no water, so you had to try to move ‘it’ along with buckets of water. And there was no toilet paper. Or light. Or toilet seat. But there was a lovely stench…

I was happy I had bats flying in my window at night, so they could eat bugs that were eating me.

Bugs fell on you and in your food on a daily basis, it was normal by lunch the second day.

I communicated verbally better with the chickens, goats and crows than I did with the workers. (I was often found bahhhing at the baby goat, from all over the compound. I also cawed at the bids. Both species cawed and bahhed back.

I was so dirty that I fit in here with most of the people. I over packed on underwear. I took 4 pairs.

I only needed my knife when I didn’t have it. But whenever I had it, it was always falling out of my pocket.

Mary Ellen got pooped on by a bird.

We had a laser pointer and the dog chased it for a solid 30 minutes, for 3 nights in a row. We were amused the entire time

I was listening to Dave Mathews on my ipod the last day before we left. And one song kept repeating. “Don’t drink the water” I didn’t listen. I paid for it.

We were supposed to be having food from the last compound taken to us at the train station, but on the way there, the food ‘punctured’ I visualize a guy with a knife stabbing random bags as people drove by. I tried telling this to father, he looked very very confused. I had to laugh.

Both times on the train, the fans were broken

I rolled an incense stick. (The job some of the ladies here have)

My beard and mustache is getting so long, when I drink, sometimes I think I have a hair in my mouth. Often times I do, but it’s connected still.

I communicate more with gestures than words.

The water I showered with smelled worse than me, I think… I hope…

Mangos

India is known for its heat and curry and 1.1 billion people, yes. But, another thing that it’s known for, especially this time of year, is its mangos. I began this past week, only trying a mango once before, not really liking it much at all. I didn’t see why so many people love mangos so much

Until last week. We arrived at this place we were installing last week and after breakfast of….curry, there were a basket of mangos. Everyone was stunned I never had a mango before. They showered me a way to cut it open, so I tried it. Wow, very juicy. So you spoon out the orange pulpy fibers and eat it… ok, so I did. Whoa. Woaaah What was that. I think I just tasted heaven. Another bite, I heard angels talking, another I was floating on clouds. Now these weren’t mangos laced with LCD or even spiked with vodka. This was pure, no artificial preservatives, no pesticides, organic mangos, from the tree I could see out the window. My world of food as I knew it had been flipped upside down. No fruit compares to mangos. I then proceeded to have another. And another

Over the course of 4 days, I managed to consume an astonishing 23 mangos, that approximately 5.5 kilos of mango. The locals were only mildly impressed. After meals you generally wash your hands, because you ear with your hands, not forks and spoons. I also had to wash mango out of my beard, off my forearms, and pull pulp out of my teeth; so very very worth it.

Little did I understand at first, these mangos have a catch 22, unfortunately. They are very fibrous. And contain a lot of sugar. So I was in a great mood for an hour after meals then id crash. Not a big deal. But it all caught up to me on the last day of the trip, all the fiber that is. Imagine eating a box of triscuits every day for a week. Probably wasn’t the best choice I ever made. So I am now limiting myself to only a few mangos a day. Just the same, nothing tastes as good as a fresh mango. Mango juice doesn’t compare, mango jelly doesn’t come close, and mango candy tastes like peaches.

Mom, please have some mangos in the house around July 26^th. Thanks.

Food

The food there was incredible. I certainly gained weight this past week. The rice was delicious, all the curries were great. Everything was loaded with sugar, so everything tasted good. And I ate a ton of mangos. I know that didn’t help my diet at all.

I tried many new foods here.

Buffalo milk and buffalo curd. So they didn’t have cows, but rather buffalos. These buffalos give off milk, so naturally we drank it in tea and coffee. The milk was also boiled then removed from heat to cool, stored in a bowl with a lid so the bugs wouldn’t get into it. We ate it about 12 hrs later, warm, not cooled, as there are no means of refrigeration. I added rice, salt, sugar and eventually mango to make a rice pudding. Yum

Palm fruit. These were about an inch and a half cubes that were fleshy. Inside was a translucent whiteish fluid. You but it in your mouth and sucked the juice out and ate the jelly skin. Kinda a weird texture, like nothing I’ve had before. There really wasn’t much of a taste either. Supposedly it was medicinal and helped cool you down.

Coconut water. This was kinda gross. It was a murky white fluid that did not taste good in the least. It was brought to us on a tray and we were told this too was medicinal. We really weren’t asked if we wanted any, I think it was just assumed. I nearly gagged, but managed a smile, mmmm this is good. No, no thank you, I really do not want a refill, promise. I forced myself to finish the fluid and I knew my stomach just told my brain “what the hell was that, that was really dumb. I don’t want this. I am going to punish you for this.” Stomach 1, brain 0

Water. Most of the water we drank came from a Purina water purifier. We even refused politely the water offered to us by the villagers. We stopped at another church on the way home for lunch before we got on our train. The father here assured us the water was safe to drink, I believed him. Fr. Paul drank the water, so I did too. It didn’t taste funny so maybe it was ok. Mary Ellen stuck to her water bottle. I didn’t see a purifier, but I was dehydrated. Also not a highly recommended solution. It did solve my dehydration, but also forced me to become best friends with the porcelain for the next 48 hours. Starting immediately after getting on the train to go home. Stomach 2, brain 0

Chicken stomach. It’s a delicacy. And I accidentally put it on my plate, mistaking it for another piece of chicken, like the neck or heart or large intestine. Silly me. Being that it was a delicacy, for some, I forced myself not to waste it. Stomach 3, brain 0

Mangos see previous post. Stomach 4, brain 1 it’s a tie.

Also ate wild mango, right off a tree. Pretty cool. Looked the same, tasted like a lemon mango or a grapefruit mango. Also put me into fits of childish laughter. I think these may have been laced. They were kinda addicting. I had 3.

Pomegranate, wild palm berries, guava, banjaua juice/fruit were some of the others we had. All grown on the property, without pesticides.

Curry continued for breakfast lunch and dinner. We had a ton of okra and onions and this other really seedy pepper.

There was also a hardboiled egg curry. Very strange textures.

We did not eat the snake, well, that I know of. All in all, the food rocked. Even if I got a lil sick. Worth it? I’d say yes

Critters

upon arrival, we learn the bugs here are intense. Gnats everywhere, all the time. Giant mosquitoes from sundown to sunup. Spiders from all sizes ( I mean some the size of your hand, not joking) allegedly, none of them will hurt you (read, they wont attack you, but if they do, several of them are known killers, so don’t make them mad. VERY REASSURING) there were also scorpions, I only saw about 3 but I guess they were everywhere. I’ve seen them eaten on the discovery channel and I wanted to try one al’carte but I couldn’t catch any… There were snakes too! They killed a 7 foot cobra in the chicken coop. It claimed the lives of several chicken, I don’t think we ate them tho, but I cant be certain… lizards were of course everywhere. They ran if u got close to them and are only poisonous if you eat them, so don’t. it was pretty cool to see them eat all these bugs. This one in my room at this giant moth, super stoked to see that. Flies are constantly around you and your food. There are coasters you put above your drink, not under it, to prevent bugs like flies from falling in. I had several land in my food… you just don’t eat that section. Ants were everywhere, every room had them crawling on the floor, on the walls, tons of them. There were rats upstairs, they smelled bad, but the dogs chased them so they dint bother us much. Oh yah, at night, bats fly into the rooms and eat the bugs that are trying to eat you.

If you have ever seen Indiana Jones when he’s in India, its really not that far off. If any of these things freak you out of give you the chills, I don’t recommend going to the villages in India. Mary Ellen hates spiders. This place did not help her fears any…

Attire

I only brought 3 shirts and 3 pairs of pants 3 pairs of boxers and four pairs of socks. One of the shirt pant combos I wore. A change of clothes was working clothes, the other was to sleep in. all were so filthy by the end; I don’t even know how to really describe them politely. I soaked the clothes today. The water is so dirty; it looks like the water cup at the end of art class on a painting day, grayish grimy filth.

Needless to say, the clothes held up very well. I only have few new holes, none threatening the durability or purpose of the clothing.

OH!!!! I almost forgot. The pants that are kinda dorky… love them. I find out the bathing suit material means you don’t have to wear boxers! Duh. Well that’s one less sweaty thing I have to change at lunch. And they zip off at the knee creating shorts. So I had one pair I wore during the day. One pair I wore in the evening during mosquito time. And the pair of shorts for sleeping in. I think I over packed on boxers and socks. I wore flip flops most of the time. The flip flops that are 2 for 5 at old navy. Flip flops are the shoe of choice in India. Even welding, bricklaying, sewer cleaning is done either barefoot or in sandals.

Hygiene

yah so I was dirty. The morning we left our compound I was going to shower. I was fully undressed and I had the just turned on the water. Then I turned off the water. Whats the point. I showered yesterday.

Day 1 night. Im sweaty, kinda grimy, Ill wash my face. Wow, Im kinda dirty.

Day 2 morning. Still sweaty wash my face rag ‘clean’ the rest of my body. Im not thattt dirty.

Day 2 night. Sweating I bet I stink. If I shower now, ill be cleaner for bed. But im going to sweat while I sleep even more. Whats the point? Its easier to shower with day light than by flash light anyways.

Day 3 morning. I feel gross. I know I must smell. I think my dirty clothes are cleaner than me if that’s possible. Ok ill shower. Bucket one, bucket two. This water smells more than poo. Bucket three, bucket four, look at all my dirt, piling on the floor. Bucket five, bucket six, jeeze I still really itch. Bucket seven bucket eight, that’s enough, im not going on a date.

These buckets are maybe a half liter. So imagine 2 bottles of pop. That’s all the fluid you have to shower with. Ok, go. first roll in the mud, then try to get as clean as you can

Day 4 and 5 repeated day 3’s morning. Except I ran out of soap on day 4. So day 5 was more of a smelly cold water rinse.

I felt cleaner. At least I couldn't scrape the layers of grime off me as much any more.

Installation

These guys we were working with, the same ones that work here at the compound are relentless at getting stuff done. Every night, we were holding flashlights to keep working until at least 8pm. The sun sets at 7pm at the very latest. We were doing cement lying and light post installation until about 9pm the first night. While I’m trying not to die from Attack of the Mosquitoes, Part 1, the workers are using levels and tree branches to stabilize this 25 foot light post. They will also use whatever means necessary to complete a task. Osmos, the main electrician, errr the guy who did most of the wiring and difficult installation parts, was found standing on a kerosene tank about 2 feet high, barefoot, with a 9 inch bowie knife in his mouth, used for striping wire, trying to figure out how the current circuit breaker type wooden box was wired. He was in this position for the last day in a half.

Some of tools we used included a box cutter handle with a piece of sharpened steel welded to the end, used for wire stripping and basic cutting. Bamboo ladders are very common here, and although it held my weight, I still don’t trust them. The first night, we couldn’t use a drill of solder iron or anything because the generator wasn’t working. So we were ‘drilling’ holes into these plastic box covers which we were designing for the controllers with candles, nails, and drill bits. Heat the metal, melt the plastic… I never thought I would use a drill bit to drill a hole, but instead of using electricity, I used a candle and brute force for power. I think we used a tape measure once. All other measurements were done using methods like ‘eye balling it’ ‘measuring by hand length’ ‘educated luck’. In the end, the installation resulted in electricity for both hostels, the convent, the classrooms, and the entire main residency. It looks very professionally done, and I am happy to say I assisted in designing and installing it.

the humor, more than half of the communication was done via grunt and hand motion. this percentage was followed by just understanding the project. finally 5-6% was done in spoken English. As you can imagine, this caused us to redo parts of our work a few times. frustrating at times, but still pretty funny/impressive.

Sweat

As unpredictable as India has been, there is one guarantee I can make. You will sweat. And sweat. And sweat. I am not joking when I say I sweated from the time I got off the train until the time I got back on the train, 5 days later. Sometimes, it’s only a little perspiration, other times it looks like you fell in the well. When you go to bed. You are sweating. You wake up, still sweating, now with the bed soaked. When, rather if you “shower” your sweat reduces, until you towel off and put on a drier shirt. The one day I wore a shirt for the morning and by 9 am it was so drenched I had to change. I put it in the sun and changed at lunch, because shirt 2 was drenched. By then shirt 1 was dry, so I put it back on.
I have rashes on my forearms from seat and dirt and itching them. Hopefully they go away. I also have heat/water rash on my lower back. It reminds me of doubles in high school football, if you forgot your extra shirt, you had to wear the sweaty shirt for the second session, often ending in rashes from your moist, sweating skin against a wet shirt. Uncomfortability certain ensues.

Residency

so the place we stayed was pretty cool. The compound itself was pretty huge. There was a girls and boys hostel, or residency, a convent, a church, a classroom section, a small kitchen for the workers, a storage area for grain and such, a chicken coop with a rooster, a goat coop with 3 goats, a barn for the buffalos, a smoke house where some of the cooking was done, and the main residency. We stayed in the main residency with Brother Jeremy and Fr. Shakespeare. The place had no electricity and no running water. Water was brought to the house via bucket from the well hand-pump outside. So showering was done with buckets and light after dark was candle lit. they did have one small solar panel for father’s computer and a few lights. But it wasn’t always reliable. There was an upstairs where food was being dried on the roof. Brother and Father often slept out there to avoid the heat inside, and since there was no fans, it was hot.

Trains

The trip began Tuesday morning at 3:50 AM. We took an auto rickshaw to one of the train stations, an adventure by itself. Some of the workers forgot some important supplies. Very heavy and awkward supplies. So we take 2 of the young worker boys along with us. They don’t have tickets. They don’t get them in time so they missed the train. Now we have way more stuff than we intended to carry. We have our seats in the AC coach, which was no more than some small fans running. I have a middle seat, Mary Ellen had an aisle, and Fr. Paul was in the next aisle, its 5:05, Time to sleep. We wake up about an hour later at some huge station. All these people got on. Like 60 more people. All the seats are already filled. Just like road traffic, no space is wasted. People were moving in the leg room space in front of people. Father was sleeping, leaning on some random lady, who was sitting on his armrest, also sleeping. Vendors are walking up and down the aisle selling food and trail mix and tea and random deep fried items, all on their heads.

The train home wasn't that exciting. our fan was broken above us. we were all so tired and dirty nothing really mattered. both my companions fell asleep minutes after leaving the station. i couldnt sleep, so i made faces with this little girl catty corner to me. she thought i was hilarious. i also ate a bag of chips "Sour Cream and Onion , American Style' then Father proceed to tell us the vendors are known for drugging their products, like the tea, and they com back after you are passed out and steal your stuff. Thanks for that. i feel much safer now. the train section seats 75, as in there are 75 seats. easily 200 people in our section. i guess many people get on without a ticket and just chill out till they make it or get kicked off. either way, we made it back safely, but i did loose my bandanna, a serious tragedy.

i made it, journey 1

I literally sprinted home (im back in Patna, at my residency compound) not to type this post, but to take part in India's version on Montezuma's revenge. Despite this, I do not regret any of the actions that occurred today or this week.

im exhausted. its 12:30 in the morning, and I have been up since 430 having the coolest day ever. i have so many stories to tell, but they will have to wait, for now.

Thank you all for your emails and prayers.

peace, love, and mangoes

Day 19 search for the ball.

This morning I walked out of my bedroom door, and it felt like I opened the door to the oven. Seriously, India? Its 7:13am and I’m already sweating. How is it already 90 degrees. I eat my breakfast and retreat to my room. I finish a book and do a little journaling. I don’t feel like moving. I agreed to go with father Joe to mail a letter I tried to mail 3 weeks ago. Its 10 am and we get to the post office and it smells like a farm and is crowded with very elderly people, with very few teeth. We get the postage, the kind you have to lick the back of the stamps. Apply postage and put it in the mailbox. Sorry friends, I don’t think any of you are getting the letters, ever. The mailbox was dusty and fathers aid it could take 3-36 weeks. Well that’s reassuring.

We head to the bazaar across the street looking for a soccer ball to take with us to the offsite place we are going all next week. We walk up and down the street. Butchers and produce line the roads as well as shops selling saris, medicine and bangles. We get a few snacks for the 4hr train ride tomorrow; I got some kit kats and crackers, woohoo. We look at the bangles and I have no idea what’s the big deal about these things, but I guess girls like them. No luck with the soccer ball, we head back. We relax the rest of the day.

Father Depak gave me his old carhbak, I think that the spelling, which is this long male dress kinda thing. It’s like a shawl that goes past your knees. It looks funny in it, but its kinda becoming of me, especially with my new hatJ. Still no luck with the soccer ball, father tells us a sports store in town. We head that way, and of course, no luck. Since it was only 4 we decided to go into town and try our luck.

We manage to get into town. Paid minimal fare and started walking up one street then we realize we have never been here before because its turning into a highway, so we turn back and see a sports store. Sweet. We go in and the store is about the size of the kitchen table. I asked the guy for the ball, and he asks his associate who jumps on the counter and crawls into the hole in the ceiling, the dude vanished! He said no ball but said go left then right then straight then right again and we’ll see one. Yah, ok.

So we go back the way we came go down the street for about 5 blocks and there are no stores besides electronic stores, phone stores, fan stores, and bike stores. No sports store. We head back as we feel we have never been on this street either, nothing is marked.

Some guy comes up to us, with a cane, and asks if we need help. He sort of directs us in the same direction we came, throws us in a cab and bids us Farwell. Thanks dude. We start going up the street and we see Vishals, the mega mart store! We’ve been here, we know where we are! And we know they have a ball. It 530, we hurry inside. Get the ball and I get a yoga mat, trying to find my inner chi while I’m here. We leave and walk back to the train station. Maybe half a mile. Humor ensues.

So we find a three wheel metal death trap heading back the way we need to go and we get in. well, a guy gets out so Mary Ellen can sit in the back, so he, I, and the driver sit in the front. It’s like playing musical chairs, with one chair; one chair that wide enough to fit one person comfortably, maybe 2 uncomfortably. I am very uncomfortable. We cross rail road tracks, my head hits the ceiling, and my knee bangs the dash board. This is awesome. We pull over, let someone out. Phew. Wait what! Were picking up 3 more? NOOOO. There are 6 in the back and 4 in the front. I repeat 4. Me, driver and 2 other men. The one day I forget my camera… if Kayleigh saw this scene, she would accuse me of having an affair with 3 people at once, all Indian men, yah we were that close. The driver kept flicking my leg, then I find out since my legs are against the dashboard it’s not the driver, it’s the clutch releasing from his motorcycle handle aka steering mechanism. So if I sneeze, cough, breathe, my leg is hitting the clutch. Great. We have 10 people in a vehicle made for 4. If you ever were young and played the elevator game, the game where you see how many people you can fit in the elevator without it breaking, this tops that experience. I’m sure the shocks were about blown. Claustrophobic, don’t go to India. By far coolest/most uncomfortable taxi ride I’ve ever had.

We had so much fried food for dinner, it was great.

I leave for an installation Tuesday at 415 am. I will not be able to update my blog until I return. I will be back Friday or Saturday. Have a great week.

Day 18 I’m lost, oh look at that mob of people…

I’m exhausted writing this right now. Recounting what happened today makes me more exhausted.

Today was Sunday. Like every Sunday, we have mass at 7am, breakfast after. I set my alarm for 6, hoping to wake up and work out. Ha-ha, yeah right. I lay in bed till 630 waiting to hear the church bells go off telling me to get up. 635, no bells. Damn, I have to use my own will power. I’m showered and dressed in 7 minutes so I still have time for a cup of coffee. Mass went as usual, in Hindi, with lots of songs. This time though, they played more instruments, I want a bongo for Christmas mom, 6mts out, but just throwing that out there.

The game plan was meeting Anon for city fun after breakfast. So Mary Ellen and I changed ate a few hard boiled eggs, had out coffee. Cameras charged and ambitions ready, we head out to the city, in search of the Patna museum. We find it after walking some and riding in some 3 wheel rickshaws, these no longer bother me, as much. Museum doesn’t open till 1030, and its 10 now, so we walk across the street, catching the attention of all 300 people standing on the block and a half around us. At least I was wearing my sweet hat. Seriously, it looks awesome, and with the beard I’ve grown, I look great. So were across the street and I want to try some of this pastry that smells good, despite the countless flies flying above and landing on these delicacies. Against better judgment, I chose to try a doughty looking thing. Not bad. How about that deep fried dough? Yes! Sign me up. Oh it’s covered in sugar. Why didn’t you say so? Oh you probably did, but I dint understand you because I don’t speak Hindi. Right. That wasn’t bad. The grease burnt my mouth and hand, and I felt my heart slowing down, but it tasted good. I move a shop over and inquire what these orange balls were made of, which I guess translates into, hi I’m American I think I want to try that. If you say the word good, I’ll assume you mean it tastes good. So he says good and hands it to me. Without looking much at it I pop about half the thing in my mouth. I give some to Mary Ellen, and Anon refuses, laughing at me. So, avid sushi lovers out there. You know the orange little balls they put on some of the sushi, roe I believe it’s called; this looked like that, and tasted like that. For non avid sushi lovers, roe is fish eggs. I ate about a cup of warm fish eggs. With sugar. So I asked Mary Ellen if she wanted to finish the fish eggs she looks at me and says no, nearly gagging. I follow suit gag a little throw it in my mouth and swallow it without chewing, great idea Tim, now you have fish eggs stuck in your throat, great start to the day.

Museum opens, we buy a ticket, 10 Rs each. We get to security, quarter mile away and learn we need a foreigner ticket 250Rs. Cool. So we walk back get the ticket, finally in the museum we start with the stuffed animals. Taxidermied animals, rather. While I’m there, still in full sweat, these people start taking pictures of me. There are no pictures aloud in the museum, and people are breaking the law not to take pictures of Buddha statues or the giant stuffed bear, but to take a picture of me. I’m telling you, these people like me, I might not come home. Three people come up to me all giddy speaking English all three starting with, you’re not from India, are you? They meant well, one was a professor and he talked to me about research and something about computers, I understood every fourth word he said. Made for a very strange conversation. The other kid’s name was babaloo, I tried to hide my laughter, and I only thought that name was a cartoon bear. His girlfriend ended up pulling him away. The museum was rather boring, but the swords were pretty cool. Went outside and was greeted with more paparazzi

So, we wanted to do some research for our steam/solar project. Why not go old school and check out the library. I found an American library in town, got the address yesterday from my computer and we took 2 bicycle rickshaws there. Of course it would be a street with nothing on it. Are you going to rob us now, or are you going to kill us first? Obviously not at the right place we head back to the main road, no one has heard of this library. The only English speaking library is the British library and it close in 2001. So were on the main road trying to figure out which way is up and then we hear shouting. The ground is shaking. Guardrails are rattling. Traffic is stopped. There is a hugeee mob, quickly approaching us. They are shouting in bull horns, make a whole bunch of raucous. If you read the paper in the last 48 hours, you would understand some of my concern. We tell the driver to go. Go forward. Fast. Now. Somehow he understood and we stopped at a round-a-bout a little ways away. We got out. Reassessed the situation. And recognized sort of where we were. Anon was having an off day communicating with us. We also wanted to go to the granary. Supposedly, you can see all of Patna. Its Hindi name is Goldumah but of course, we didn’t think this was important to know. I looked at the map before we came out. I could figure this out if I knew where the Ganges River was. I asked a simple question, where is the Ganges, which must be code for everyone in ear shot come here and look at me confused. Because that’s what happened. I have two taxis lined up to take me to the Ganges, half the other people have never hear of the river the others are still dumbfounded the American spoke. Anon thinks we want to go to the river now. This sucks. Somehow, an Indian that spoke English well came over, helped us out. As were understanding which way is north, the riot turns the corner, oh 20 meters from us. Bull horn yelling, stomping their feet. We both relive ourselves of our last meal by placing it in our pants. We decide this is no longer safe, and start walking forward very swiftly, but not sprinting to draw more attention to us, and we walk down the next road and keep walking. Of course half the people we were talking to follow us and yell its ok. W.e the riot passes us so we think and we head back. Still shaken. Well it was only wave 1 of people but we were too far now to go back. We were surrounded by Indians we dint know, so we felt really safe. We head across the street to what we thought was a movie theater for a few days before when the English speaking gent caught up with me and asked me to meet his family. Ugh fine. The other two crossed the street, looking clearly angry at me. So I introduced myself to about four generations of this guy’s kin. They assemble quickly. I said hi, talked to them for a few minutes. They took some pictures and I caught back up with my group.

Were at the movie theater, it has a Baskin Robbins. YESSSSS. And a guard comes up, same guard from last time, but this time he opens the door. Cool. We go in… it’s a hotel?!?! Whatttt. Its air conditions so we sit down and the concierge ends up coming down to us. We ask him all these questions and he understands. Mary Ellen starts laughing. We figure out where we are, where the Ganges is, how to acquire a map, and that the grainary is golduhma or however it’s spelled. OH and there is an American library, not called American corner, like it says online, but American counter. Come on!!! Thanks Google.

We head across this giant field that feels like were walking on a thin layer above hell. We make it to the other side, I buy the memoirs of Sherlock Holmes and Mary Ellen buys a map. We find a real movie theater and vow to come back. We head back and I’m walking fast ready for a shower and a nap. It’s barely 2pm. And Anon, with his leg is going slow. So I caught myself and slowed down. Then I got to thinking. This is a huge blessing in disguise. So yes, we are lost more often than we would like, but its forcing us to navigate this third world nation with very little supplied knowledge. His polio is forcing us to go slow and as a result we see so much more, smell so much more, and hear so much more. Mary Ellen and I begin laughing again. In class we were told when stuff is going really wrong, and you are frustrated. Start laughing because you certainly will laugh about it after the fact. This whole day was rather hilarious.

I’m glad to be alive. We came back and had lunch. The rice was awesome. I ate so much of it; I had a rice food coma.

day 17. the chicken story.

Today was cool, really cool.

Started out as a slow morning. It was about 9am me and Mary Ellen were doing some research and father Depak came into the kitchen, where we were researching, all dressed to go out (bag on shoulder, cap on his head, etc.). Casually, we ask where he’s going and he replies to go get some chicken. My eyes light up… Is the chicken still alive right now? Yes, do you want to come? ‘YES!’ Well you have to be ruthless, Tim you seem ruthless, Mary Ellen, do you think you can handle it. She says yes and we go throw on some shoes. I’d prefer the blood to splash on my shoes rather than my bare feet.

So I have never seen a chicken killed and undressed before, even though I have easily eaten over a ton of chicken in my life. How unthoughtful of me… So we are walking through this area, called the bazaar which is the width of a narrow one way road with what looks like elevated storage units on each side. Each was about 6 foot by 8 foot with a 7 foot ceiling, so not very large at all. There are flies on EVERTYTHING. There are vegetable stands, watch makers, small appliance shops, shops selling grain, others selling chicken.

(If you are squeamish, skip to the next paragraph, otherwise, enjoy… this really happened… I warned you)

So we went to the chicken stand. Father seemed not to notice the 300 flies in the confined space. Or the blood still on the knife that looked like a machete was stolen from an Amazon bush whacker. Or the. Cutting block was a red, blood stained log stump. There were chickens squawking, as they obviously knew they were dead meat, pun fully intended. These weren’t pretty white chickens you see in commercials or visualize on old McDonald’s farm. These had yellow greasy feathers, looked like they had been fighting each other. So the ‘butcher’ grab on by the neck and asks father in Hindi if this one would be acceptable, father must have responded in a yes because without hesitation the butcher grabbed the knife and cut the chicken’s throat, it started bleeding and squawking, so what did the butcher do? Threw him into an aluminum garbage can, with blood stains running down the side. He had to hold the lid down because the chicken was getting violet. I was in awe; Mary Ellen seemed less in awe, more in shock. About 20 seconds later the racket stops and the guy reaches in a grabs this bloody feathery mess, chicken still somewhat alive. I now understand the phrase running around like a chicken with its head cut off... He chops off a wing, then another, cut here chop there, and the neck was skinned. Beak still on. This guy was good. You think hibachi chefs have great knife skillz, try doing that with a machete, this guy was legit, chopped the foot chopped the other, asked father if he wanted them, then he booked as us, I thought for about 0 seconds and shook my head, yes I’m a carnivore, yes I’m enjoying this, no I do not want to eat chicken feet. So the butcher grabs some feathers and the whole skin comes off. Woah. That was fast. Then chop chop chop, and this chicken is diced up. The butcher is tossing pieces into a metal bowl on the floor. He did not cut out the breast meat, he chopped the chicken like it was a steak and he was making stir fry somewhat square like cubed pieces. Oh this makes more sense… now I know why I’ve been getting really boney chicken pieces; I keep eating the neck of the chicken, duh. So the guy weighs the bowl, it weighs 1kg which cost like 120Rs. The rest he left on the board for the next lady, also wanting chicken. The guy double bagged it, not in a zip-lock, but like a plastic shopping bag, except much smaller. Father gave the bag to Mary Ellen and she held it away from her like it was nuclear waste. I thought the whole interaction was quite funny. I will certainly be going back.

So we continued in the market, stopping at a vegetable stand, getting tomatoes, limes, and cilantro, they use a lot of cilantro.

The rest of the day was pretty boring. Researched some stuff for the saturated vs. superheated steam, looked up design ideas for our solar cooker prototype, and emailed some professors. It was lunch time and I was hungry. What was for lunch, CHICKEN. Yes chicken that was alive less than 2 hrs ago. I assured father this was the freshest chicken I have ever had. It was delicious too.

Later that night, I worked out on the roof, drawing quite a crowd. One little girl was cute; she got her jump rope out trying to show me up. Not to be out done by an 8 year old, I put on a show of my own. The little girl, failing miserably hid behind the mother when I waved. The entire rest of the family, like 9 of them all waved back smiling and laughing. Even Fr. Paul came up and showed me that he too could once jump rope; he even did a few pushups. He really didn’t understand my exercise band or why I was working out. He said I was wasting my energy. Went in for dinner and afterwards chatted with a few friends via Skype. When I think of chicken now, it has a whole new image attached to it.