I've told a few of you of my after work activities but for those who don't know, now's the time for your enlightenment! When I first came to India there was one thing that I knew I wanted to learn. I figured since you only live once and who knows when I'll be here next, now's the time to learn how to dance...bollywood dance that is! I mentioned at the start of my internship to the rest of the interns that it was my goal to learn how to bollywood dance while I was here in India. To my surprise, the other interns had said they had wanted to learn but nothing had ever come to fruition. So after doing some research (not very in depth research mind you) we found that there was a dance studio right under the gym that I go to, about 3 blocks away from the office and one from my new apartment (I moved recently). The dance studio is run by a man named Xavier who is really an amzing dancer! He knows a ton of different dances and takes his job very seriously! We, however, are not the greatest dancers (imagine that!). One of the lines we freuently hear is, "You know the moves very well. Your knowledge is dead on. What you lack is style." I'm having trouble wondering if I'll ever clear that hurdle but in the meantime it's a lot of fun and a good stress releaver. Due to all of our ridiculousness (uncoordination, lack of rythem, etc.) we usually laugh at ourselves. Xavier, however, assured us that "It is my job, as your instructor, to teach you how to dance. Rest assured I will never laugh at you!" Recently, however, he has definetly warmed up to us and turns out actually knows one of the people we work with (more to come on him later). As of right now, since we have no rythem, we are being taught basic hip-hop so it'll be easier for us to learn bollywood style dance when we get the chance. I say 'bollywood style dance' because I'll never actually be able to learn true bollywood dance. In order to do true bollywood dancing, one most sing as well as use the dance as a method of the telling the story. In otherwords, the dance has to match up with what the words are. So since I lack any knowledge of Hindi, I will only be learning bollywood style dances. After watching the highest grossing bollywood movie (3 Idiots. Go see it!) last Friday, we all decided we wanted to learn how to dance to the hit song from the movie 'Zoobie Doobi.' We tried it and needless to say it was very hard. Well at least for me it was. I asked Xavier if I would be able to do that by the time I leave in May. He said by that time I will be doing more than that. I'm skeptical to say the least.
In light of our Bollywood dance high, some of us, the night before we went on a trip to Mysore, went to Bollywood Night at a cool modern bar by the name of Couch. The bar/restaurant is aptly named because instead of sitting on chairs, the guests sit on couches. We were really looking forward to having dinner and dancing, or at least listening to some good bollyood music. For some reason though, not only was there no dancing going on, the DJ apparently didn't realize it was Bollywood night and instead played Lady Gaga and 50 Cent remixes. That didn't stop us. Since there wasn't a dance floor for us to show are moves on, we decieded the best option would be to make our own dances up sans legs. We made some classic upper body dances up such as "milking the cow," 'making the bed,' and even 'washing the clothes.' Most of the Indians looked at us and laughed. When it was time to order food, we were all excited to get some continental food. I was especially excited for my Chicken Milanese. The key word in that title is chicken mind you. When I got the food, I saw that it was three strips of what appeared to be chicken on a bed of rice covered with this white looking gravy. I at the first piece of chicken was very satisfied with my selection. However, my thoughts changed after I tried the next piece. The second piece tore very easily and all but fell apart in mouth. I was impressed with this second tender chicken. Except for one thing: it didn't taste like chicken. I began to wonder if maybe they had used the same cutting board as they used the fish (which didn't ease my thoughts) but after another bite I was certain that this was fish I was eating. The others at the table tried it and concluded the same. Luckily, the staff decided to leave my dish off the bill so I left a happy man hoping that I would not be sick the next day.
I woke up the next morning content that I did not have any stomach problems from the night before. I dragged myself out of the bed at 6 AM and got into a car with a few other interns to go to the old capital of south India: Mysore! On the way there, we stopped at some really really old Hindu temple.
The other interns went in to have a look around while I guarded their shoes and enjoyed a tender coconut. While enjoying myself and telling off bold vendors, an Indian man in about his late 20s/early 30s. Came up to me and took my picture. This was not abnormal to me as many Indian people will take pictures of white people for some reason. I smiled and waved at him. He then saw that as an invitation to tell his kids to take a picture with the white person (me). So first the son took a picture with me and then the daughter joined for the third picture. So apparently some guy in India will be showing his kids one day a picture he took of them with me; a random white kid.After the temple, we left for Mysore and went straight to the castle.
This castle was built at the end of the 19th century and housed the royal family of Mysore. Needless to say the palace was amazing and I would have taken pictures if they were allowed but the guards were not having it. After the palace tour, we went to the back of the palace where they were offering elephant and camel rides for the tourists. This was something I was not going to miss so to some of the other interns' dismay, most of us went on an elephant ride. (Unfortunately my camera died by this point so this photo is courtesy of Hanne)
This was about as amazing as it looks except for one thing; we nearly capsizing the whole time. Since we all wanted to be on the same elephant we decided to say no to the guards advice of not putting 5 adults on the saddle. But of course that was not going to fly so we persuaded the guards to let us do it! Bad idea. The saddle rocked to the right and to the left the whole time we rode the elephant. Despite the near death experience I still think it was worth it. After this we went to the Mysore Zoo which was actually really cool. There was a great variety of animals but what made the trip amazing were the signs posted around the zoo (courtesy of Christine). Please, take some time to view these and read what they say if you can (the ones that are in English I mean):
Birds will bite off your fingers
Sign says: Beware of the CHIMPANZEE. One of our chips has learnt to occasionally throw things toward zoo visitors. This is due to the excited reaction he gets from public.
This picture of a bear mauling a human is by far the best:Sign says: Please be safe! Do not stand, sit or lean on zoo barriers. If you fall, animals could eat you and that might make them sick.
All in all it was a fun time at Mysore!
The past two weekends I have been getting to know one of the investigators from our office here. It's been a lot of fun getting to know the staff here and he is quickly becoming one of my good friends here. Last Sunday, he took me to commerical street (the busiest street ever! with a ton of shops) to get a Sherwani. 'What is a Sherwani?' most of you are probably asking yourselves. A Sherwani is, as my friend the investigator calls them, 'the formal suit of India.' The really expensive ones are what bridegrooms would wear on their wedding day while really cheap ones can be worn day to day. We decided to get moderatly cheap ones that were nice enough for special occations but not too expensive. The result? Well have a look (Note: For security reasons, I cannot post his picture nor can I type his name. As a result I asked what name he'd prefer. I don't know if he suggested it or someone else did but the name that's been agreed upon is Tom Cruise and he will henceforth be known as such):
Tom Cruise, Rob and myself.We had a prayer retreat on Friday so we showed up wearing these amazing Sherwanis! It was a great time and we got a chance to show off some more Bollywood dance movies in real Indian attire!
I've learned a lot of life lessons these past few days but one sticks out as the most important lesson of all: what it means to be a man. Over the past few years I've asked myself what it really means to be a man. Is it courage? Having a sense of integrity? Going wherever God leads you? These are the questions I struggled with all my life but I finally found out what it means this past Monday.
One of the staff members, Sunder, has an amzing mustache but we all are really encouraging him to grow a gotee (or as it is called here in India, the French) which he had when I first came here but shaved off everything but the mustache. His excuse was, 'No only Americans like the french. My neighbors make fun of the french.' As soon as he said that two of the Indian girls put their vote in for the french. Seeing that he was fighting a losing battle, he turned the tide on me. "What about you," he said, "Where's your mustache?" Hanging my head in shame I responded, "Sunder I can't grow a mustache." Sunder stared a me blankly and then just said, "Why?"
"Because I just can't grow hair there." I said
Staring in disbelief he took the back of his forefinger and felt the smooth skin above my upper lip and gasped in shock. Next to him, Dorothy, the amazing women I work next to in the office (and one of the best cooks on the planet!), bowled over with her head in her hands.
A side note about Dorothy, she and her mom made a bunch of us her homemade Biryani (India's version of fried rice). It had 10 pounds of rice and 4 whole ckickens in it! As I have not yet gotten permission from Dorothy to show her picture on here, I will show you the aftermath of the Biryani as is showcased by Rob's food baby.
She also thinks I look like this Tamil actor. Please let me know your thoughts. I'm not convinced. I pointed out that I have blond hair and that I'm white but she said I have the same features. I don't know about that but I said I would post it and see what you guys think.
Anyway! Back to the main topic. Everytime I'd tell people that I couldn't grow a mustache Dorothy would put her head in her hands and give out a long "OOOOOOHHHH NOOOO!!!" Finally I said, 'It's OK Dorothy I've come to terms with the fact that I cannot grow a mustache.'
She in turn responded, "No but Mark you can't grow a mustache and you tell people that and now they're going to think that you're not a man!" So I was put in my place and found out that a mustache is what makes one a man.
I hope you guys are enjoying this, as I said before this is more about the lighter side of my time in India. As I can't get into any of the work details I hope this gives you some entertainment and maybe even gives you a desire to visit this fascinating place. I really do love all the people that are here and could not ask to be in a better group of ex-pats and interns. Please keep praying for the work that we're doing down here and especially pray for our Director here. Things are hard but there are always opportunities to look at the brighter side of life no matter where one is.
-Mark
