I remember when flying into Hyderabad looking down at the roads and being nervous that the cars would crash into one another because of the side of the road they were on. I may or may not have seen a car with the driver on the right before, but the taxi ride to our place of residence for the next few weeks was certainly the first time I've ridden in one. That alone took some getting used to. I remember seeing cars go by with children in the front left side and thinking.....Why are they driving?! before realizing they were just a passenger. In the taxi was Mindi (from the University of Pittsburgh), Lindsay (a literature major), and Prishanthi, who had met me at the airport. Prishanthi got many laughs by watching me while we were driving. The driver accelerated and decelerated so quickly, but I guess everyone else outside looked like they were in a rush as well. I'd also catch myself flying my arms around trying to get something to hold onto as it appeared to me that we were going to ram every car we passed. Once we got deeper into the city, that's when the real driving began. They have lanes there, but the lines are not adhered to. People slip between bikes, bikes between motorcycles, motorcycles between auto-rickshaws, autos between cars, and cars between buses as tightly as they possibly could, honking all the while. I was awed by everything outside, the people bustling around, hanging out of automobiles, shops selling all kinds of produce, eclectic architecture, tangled electric lines that had loops all the way to the ground, metal and glass buildings with bamboo scaffolding around it, I had never seen anything like it. Sometimes I'd wave to people staring, sometimes they'd acknowledge me and smile, other times they'd continue to stare.

For the few weeks of orientation before enrolling at classes, we are staying at a resort called the Walden in a gated community on the outskirts of the city. The resort is amazing, housekept rooms, toilets and showers for every room, marble flooring, and even a pool. It literally feels like being on vacation here. Every meal there is a never-ending buffet of Indian cuisine...the men that work there like to scoop the food onto your plate for you (which I'm not used to), but all the better because the reasonable portions they serve would likely be digestively healthier for me than the massive heaps that I would likely be inclined to take.

I initially arrived at the resort at 10 in the morning or so, but the time felt most like late afternoon...jet lag not only can make you tired or awake, but really disorient you as well! 10 and a half hours is a pretty big deal, but the students from California and such have a full day reversal. That first day was a bunch of eating and meeting new people as they came in from the airport and as they woke up if they had already been there for some time (several students decided to come early to stay overnight in Mumbai or Delhi or Hyderabad). The people in the group are AWESOME. They all have so many stories and things to say, and it's so great being in the same boat as them, we'd all talk about what kind of things we were excited for or heard from previous students.

I don't recall being quite as tired as I was that afternoon...in my life. I hadn't slept but 3 or so hours the night before I left (Tuesday) and interruptedly on the flights...it was now Friday afternoon and I was dead. Realizing that I wouldn't be able to make it the whole day without passing out, I decided to do so on my comfortable bed for a short while, not even remembering falling asleep in the first place.

Before dinner, we traveled to Shilparamam, a market district. Although I had no rupees on me, they were eager to take American dollars, although having some trouble converting between the two currencies, as do all of us who aren't used to quickly multiplying and dividing by 40. I like to just think that 200 rupees is 5 dollars and go from there, adding in increments. I ended up buying some bookmarks made of this cotton-paper material with amazing designs and pictures on them painted with pastes made from grounded vegetables and flowers. I also got a huge blanket/wallhanging with beautiful blue/green/purple designs on it. The whole fare was about 30 dollars. Many of the girls got henna tattoos; having deep brown designs on their hands and arms that evening after the outer application had fallen off.

Many children we waiting for us as we stepped off of our motorcoach, eager for rupees. Many even had children who were younger in their arms. They'd hold their hand out and say *rupee* or *biscuit* or something of the sort and would tap at your legs and even kiss their hands and touch both of your feet. There was a policeman there with a bamboo pole that would lower the children's hands if they were being too bothersome. I wasn't as affected by it as I thought I was going to be, you just ignore them; they weren't even crying or anything, it's just what they were used to doing. Katvitha, the CIEE program assistant, talked to us about how they are frequently hired by agents to beg, and trained to beg, and their earnings are given back to the agents. It's a whole business that's not legitimate and you can never be sure what the actual motivation of the beggars is. As we drove away, the children would tap at the sides of our bus which made me feel almost like we were under attack, but I was most concerned that we didn't accidentally run over any of them.

After many conversations with the other students over dinner, I slept pretty well, although waking up at 5 am like everyone said I would. At 9 am we had a presentation at the resort by Dr. Reddy, who works at a nearby hospital and is available for contact from the campus. She discussed all of the medical things we need to be aware about, including digestive trouble, mosquitos and malaria, rehydration, water quality, etc. One student, Harrison, alarmed her after telling her that he had accidentally left his window open overnight and been eaten by dozens of mosquitoes before waking.

After, Dr. Vasudeva Rao, the resident director, gave us an introduction to the program/orientation and to culture in Hyderabad in general. He spoke a lot about a festival called ganesh that occurs sometime in August and honors an elephant god. He also spoke about *namaste*, the Hindi greeting/goodbye. There was evidently a lot to mention about it, and it was summed up in the end by him starting with his two hands touching at the palms at a 90 degree angle. Each hand was an axis, one symbolizing subjectivity/belief/opinion, the other empiricism/objectivity/science. He closed the angle, symbolizing the combination of the two, bringing his hands together in front of him, and this is namaste.

For lunch we traveled to the university, about 15 minutes from the resort, and ate lunch in the SIP (study in India program) guest house, in which many had opted to live for the semester. We walked/drove around the campus for the rest of the afternoon, being acquainted with it and the locations of the academic buildings. The campus couldn't be more different from Muhlenberg. First of all, it's something like 2,300 acres; there are roads and paths connecting the different buildings, everything spread out and obscured by forest. The buildings are all made out painted of cement and are open to the air. After a while we gave up trying to memorize where everything was, opting to rely on the map they gave us for navigation when we needed it.

That evening we went to a restaurant called Fusion 9 in the city. We all sat in sofas around low tables as waiters continued to replenish our supply of delicious appetizers and drinks. The environment was so conducive to talking, and talking I certainly did. Ty told me about her experience in Vietnam and we additionally talked about movies, music, and other things that interested us. I also talked a lot to Carolynne, an artist from California; Spencer, who had the same hiking shoes as me; Molly, who looks and laughs just like Bekki's mom; and Tori, a religion major. After chocolate cake, we were presented with a huge buffet that many of us hadn't even an appetite for after all the food so far! Tori and I continued are discussions of politics, religion, the placebo effect, idealism/realism, and India itself throughout the rest of dinner and all of the bus ride and walk back to the resort.

Travis had been ill coming to India (also, his luggage is still in Mumbai, but we will hopefully be getting it on the 13th or 14th), but my time had finally (I suppose inevitably) come the next morning. I'll spare the details, but I was left completely drained of energy by the time we were supposed to be downstairs. I couldn't be sure but I may also have had a slight fever and was a little achy. Not to worry though, it's all part of the experience; yes, mom and dad, I will tell someone if it gets worse. Pepto bismol seemed to help though. I was most concerned about missing out on the activities for the day, but fortunately I was able to muster some strength and go down to the conference room, bringing bottles to fill with water so I could rehydrate myself.

That morning (I had skipped breakfast, having no appetite to speak of) we were introduced to our peer tutors, there are about 4 students for each one. Mine is Avenish (sp?); he's almost done with his doctorate (at 28 years old) in Hindi literature and will be ready to teach as a professor at a university by next year. I'll be meeting with him 2-4 times a week with him to "clear doubts" (they use the word "doubt" to refer to questions or concerns) about the language maybe that I didn't pick up in classes. Kavitha gave each student 100 rs and we were, in our tutoring groups with our respective tutors as guides, to tackle the transportation system of Hyderabad.

We started out on a main street in Hyderabad, having walked from the resort. Of course we got many stares, but we did all day. Some would make faces at us; I couldn't quite tell for what reason. Sometimes I acknowledged the stares, sometimes that acknowledgment was replied, but it was better to just look ahead (as if I knew what I was doing) and contain my excitement by avoiding staring at anything that caught my attention (and closing my mouth, frequently opening in astonishment at various things). We started our trip in an auto-rickshaw. They are yellow, three wheeled usually, and have either 3 or 6 passenger seats (although of course we've seen many more crammed into them). 8 students (me included), 2 tutors, and the driver all crammed into a 7 seater. We then putted down the street in the heap of honking and people/autos. Autos are paid for usually after the ride; the driver may or may not use a meter, and, especially if he doesn't, will overcharge the passengers.

During the ride we were asking the tutors questions about the transportation system and such. Ben (across from me), who had spent the night in Mumbai before coming to Hyderabad, also was telling me about head nods...in Mumbai bobbling the head from side to side means "no," but in Hyderabad it is "yes." "No" as far as I could tell in Hyderabad was a regular shake of the head, and the accustomed "yes" nod that I'm used to is not used.

We were dropped off at a place where we were to catch a bus further into the city. There are three kinds of buses: original, medium, and...the other kind I forget, more expensive and comfortable. I think we took a medium one; I've never been so crammed. All the seats were full and we all stood in the aisles up against one another. I had forgotten my camera unfortunately, but such a sight is something of which I definitely want to get at least one picture, it was unreal. The bus jerked around the street, honking it's blaring horn like everyone else. I grasped the bar above my head as tight as I could. By the way the buses aren't made for people as tall as I am, I had to turn my head to one side to stand. Unfortunately I was still feeling ill to top it all off, and although I was not claustrophobic, I was nervous about the situation of needing to throw up with literally no place to go but the poor woman I was facing. I suppose it's no surprise that one of the students fainted during the ride, but with a little water and some space she was able to regain consciousness.

If there is both a front and a back entrance to a bus, the men are to board and exit at the back and the women at the front. This really struck my as odd because intuitively I would consider the front as privileged seating; considering the way I've heard women to be treated in India, that's where I would expect the men. Passengers pay a "conductor" for the trip who forces his way up and down the aisles, making a sound that's a cross between a shout and a hiss for attention.

We arrived at a shopping mall in a district called ebets (sp?) and browsed around for a while, boarding another bus after to take us to another area and then to koti (sp?), where there are many street venders. My whole time in the city is kindof a blur to me know, so much commotion and culture shock wrapped up in such a short period of time. I do remember clearly though someone about my age coming up to me with metal tweezers in his hand asking to "clean" and pointing to my ears. Trying not to laugh, I refused his insistent requests, wondering what exactly he'd do with metal tweezers to clean my ears. Anyway, it was a valuable experience to be acquainted with the system used in the city...I hope to be able to navigate it without a guide though in the future (yes, mom and dad, with other students as well).

While stopped at a juice stand that Avenish told us was clean and wouldn't make us sick, I got some pomegranate juice for 20 rs. Smoothies and such in New York cost at least 10 times that. I started a conversation with a white woman that I spotted, who was also eager to talk to us. She was from Australia and was doing physical therapy work in a nearby village. We talked a lot about accents, how she could tell immediately that we were American by the way we spoke, but that we didn't know for sure whether she was from England or Australia. To her that difference is clear, although she can't distinguish between Canadian and US accents like we can.

Anyway the bus ride home was at least half and hour through traffic and was about as crowded as the first bus. I had to stand most of the time but was grateful when a seat opened up, feeling a little nauseous in the heat and commotion still with my digestive issues. The body odor on the bus was also at times overwhelming, or at least much more prevalent than I'm used to. I of course kept getting stares, I'd maybe glance at someone starting and he'd look away. I could tell many were eager to talk to us though. Some even walked up to us and started conversations, asking us where we were staying or what we were doing in Hyderabad. Most know English, but the English they speak is frequently just as different as a foreign language when you factor in the accent. I'd usually have to ask them to repeat whatever was being said at least 3 times, blocking out the horns and other conversations etc. I loved to try to talk to them, and I knew they were curious about us. During any of these bus or auto trips, I'd just be looking around or at the floor thinking...*this is exactly what I wanted, just look at where you are* and I couldn't be happier. The three bus rides and auto trip cost 25 rs in total, or about 50 cents.

Back at the room I collapsed in my bed, having developed more exhaustion as the day went on, and just happy as a clam as I recalled my trip into the city but could finally rest.