They sell milk in sealed plastic bags here and tobacco in little packets we mistook for condoms. The roads are thriving, throbbing, beating with the pulse of activity/ reverberating incessantly in my eardrums/ widening my eyes with bright saris, simple lungis, and ornate jewelry. That’s in the villages and only a small sampling of what you’ll find in the city.
Men wearing tight pants that flare out at the bottom and have bleach purposely splashed on them, open neck shirts, and slick hair. The picture painted may sound more like a used car sales man, but I promise you, it’s a sight to see. Their dress isn’t so much American as it is an exaggerated/sensationalized version of what Western wear is. The men walk with their women, only now and then do I see a couple holding hands, who wear traditional saris, a bindi, and a nose pierced on the usual right side. This is most of the time, but around Jewelers’ Street and way downtown Bangalore, there are jeans, belly buttons, boobs and short hair staring you in the face. The stores have jeans, tank tops, and sexy advertisements on display. One was a large poster of a woman who fits the American ideal and (I have to wonder) is ruining the Indian woman’s self image. Having to be thin .. or having that be desirable exists already in most cultures and is equally as impossible to attain no matter where you go. But here, you have to be that thin and that fair skinned.
Everyone walks right in the streets in Bangalore. The three wheeled auto taxis will come right behind you and beep – brushing your hand as they squeeze past. All the people definitely have somewhere to go and in the villages the street is just a part of your back yard. It’s different. It’s nice. The kids play games, men debate, women debate too; it’s like an office, a play ground, a meeting hall.

I came back from Madurai this morning. I have to be honest before I say anything and admit that I did not have as good a time as I could have/should have/would have had if I wasn’t depressed throughout most of it. It was a sadness that materialized into stomach pain, twisted my face into hard expressions, made my eyes wince with each meal, and gladly I would sleep at the end of each day. Madurai was seen through this state of mind. I had to stop walking around the beautiful Meenakshi temple and hold my side for a little while and sit next to a statue of an elephant to let it pass.
I shut down at one point and couldn’t feel much of anything. I heard my mother’s voice in my head … something about how medication helps you, it’s not a crutch. And then I hear her again … something to the tune of I’ll probably have to be on medication for the rest of my life. And she will because she thinks she does. It doesn’t happen very often at all. It was healthy for me… it was cleansing. My motto used to be Don’t let anything touch you. And now I know it has to be .. Let everything in and feel all of it. So I did.

Oamjie asked me two nights ago where his little girl was (that’d be what he calls me). I smiled in reply and he said “You used to be smiling all the time and I’ve noticed a difference.”
It’s hard to write about this now b/c I’m not feeling it anymore, but it’s very important that it is written…for honesty’s and documentation’s sake.

Ours was the Hotel Supreme and I am now convinced that any hotel with Supreme/Elegance/Luxury/etc. included in its name is anything but and is trying to make up for something. And, something that I’m sure cannot be helped by anyone or anything, I’ve come home with ten mosquito bites as souvenirs and a big pimple way underneath my skin from all the sweating I did there.
And speaking of souvenirs … I have officially now seen people haggle … and work a seller down to a reasonable price, and get worked over by a seller. God, it’s better than any TV show. I finally got my long short pants for 115 rps, Katy worked on the shop owner at the hotel for 2 days and got some paintings at a good price, and Lauren talked a guy down from 300 to 180. Beautifully and comically done. Some of the group is really uncomfortable with it, but I’m getting better. My secret is to get indignant and maybe a little pissed off. What?! My money?? For that? But I’m broke!
Yes, possessiveness of money can be used for good: saving money.

We went to a light show at a palace that belonged to the king of Madurai over 300 years ago. Malika took some pictures with her digital and a lot of orbs showed up. Oamjie told me that a lot of men were killed in that palace and certainly their spirits were hovering over us. From what I understand, it was more fun last year. This year there were no actors, no folk singing afterwards. Outside two women were selling anklets and I now have two … for the price of thirty rupees. One is the kind that jingles when I walk. And the other, more simple. I had one on each ankle, but Gopi told me this morning that looks very ugly. So, hmm, I took the jingly one off. Truth is, I didn’t figure out how to take it off until this morning.

A trip was also made to two different NGOs. The first was is called DAWN and I talked at length with the founder, Shanta, about the feminist movement in India/it’s problems/disconnects/and divisions. I think this is what I’ll be writing about for my 20 page paper. We also went to People Watch. They have a 10 week internship program that deals with human rights for Dalits. I’m putting it on the list of things I could do after graduating along with Peru, GPAC, and various.

On the last day we (always We) headed out to the Meenakshi Temple. I want to say it’s 16 acres big, but I’m not sure. Something huge… So many people inside!! Getting ready to get married, getting married, hanging out, shaving their head as offerings, selling garlands, and watching the elephants. Yes, elephants; and camels too. There was a very small procession down the center path in the temple and both elephants were adorned in jewelry, beautiful fabrics, and bells. The camels were the same and the most pompous/proud animal I’ve seen with the way they walked and held their heads.
I pet an elephant and its presence was more calming than most of the people I’ve ever known. Later I went for a walk with Bo, Lauren, Taylor, and John and at another temple I got a blessing by an elephant. Yea, all you have to do is give it a coin (which it gives to its caretaker), put your head down, and it will touch you with its slobbery trunk. I had to smile, getting a blessing for some money from a trained elephant.

Wait, I want to talk about this morning. Did my laundry in buckets, came down to the eating area and waiting for me was Heather … a woman with a beautiful baby boy, a husband, and an eagerness to hear what I had to say about being here. And, shit, it really helped. I stopped in mid sentence and told her how good it was to talk with her because for the past week I’d been down and talking about India –making sure I got all the nuances and feelings right – made me remember that I like it here. That I must appreciate every minute of it. She has a daughter who is staying at the Art of Living who is my age and she said that maybe she can come by tonight. Ah a new face! A new face who will be here until the 25th. What luck. Well, hopefully she’ll make it over.

Newness is nice. I am in India, experiencing all this, and I have to say one of the most fascinating things is how the group interacts. How we deal with being around each other all the time. I think it had something to do with the way I withdrew this past week. It’s hard it’s challenging. It’s why I needed to get this all out and, yes, sometimes I prefer a box.