Yesterday we had lectures informing us about the SIP (Study in India) Program and general academics and life at the University. Here's some interesting information about the school in general that I jotted down: The University of Hyderabad is more commonly known as Central University because it is funded by the federal (central) government. It was founded in 1974 and presently has about 3,000 students. It's student to faculty ratio is 1:9, the best (lowest) in all of India. 1/3 of the students are female and 90% of all the students live on campus; about 10% of all the students are from other countries. The campus as a whole is 2,300 acres with over 500,000 trees, 4 lakes, and many valleys and rock formations. It is located Northwest of Hyderabad city. There are 20 people living in the SIP guest house (mostly all through the CIEE program), but there are 46 SIP students this semester in total, coming in with other programs and such (they all arrive when classes start without the beneficial and awesome orientation that we as CIEE students get!). This SIP program is only 10 years old or so through the University of Pittsburgh. And started with only 8 students; now there's over 150 a year that go through the program each year.

We also looked through courses and registered with the library; I'm still not sure exactly what I'm taking, but it should solidify itself within the next week. When we got back to the resort, Ben, Harrison, and Spencer decided to go walking around nearby in the city; I joined them and we ended up wandering into a bar. It was an interesting experience...there was only one light bulb in the whole place that was lit when we walked in. Everything was sticky and stuff or wet from pouring drinks sloppily. They got Kingfisher and Armstrong beers, but I was fine with water, especially since I wasn't sure if these had the glycol preservatives in them that I'd heard about before. We ended up talking about our respective colleges, and this somehow led into discussions of the apocalypse and possible future self-annihilation through war, famine, disease, etc. It was an unexpected conversation to say the least but the others had opinions on it that I was curious on hearing. Harrison is definitely sure that we're going to be wiped out, but that a few will survive to continue the race. Feelings of paranoia crept about me; likely it was the discussion topic, maybe it was the unfamiliar and grimy bar, possibly it was even the mefloquine antimalarials.

Back at the resort there was a huge business party going on; they were being extremely loud and were dancing around and stuff, but it was entertaining to listen to as we swam around in the pool before dinner.

After eating, most of us ended up in one of the girls rooms and we all had amazing discussions on all sorts of things. It's amazing how at home I feel with these people, and how close we've all gotten in only one week. Julia and I talked more about our theories on how India and the States compare, prompted by being informed earlier in the day that grades were frequently posted in the newspaper or on display on campus. It seems that here in India one has less ownership over what happens in their lives. People's lives are like a stream, we're just canoes in it that can sortof change where we're pointing, but not the whole flow. Life can bring shit to the table sometimes, and certainly it can be unpredictable; the difference is in whether or not significant fault seems to be placed on you for the undesirable things that happen. When you get a bad grade, it's not so much a reflection of your identity (as in the States) as it is just something else that has happened in your life. There's really no reason why it can't be shared. On the bus between international and domestic airports in Mumbai, I was alarmed to see a full size jet that was sawed in half, laying beside the runway. It must have been broken or...something, I don't quite know why it was there, but it was alarming for me because that for sure wouldn't be a sight to see in the States; it would cause too much concern. It would let you know that sometimes bad things happen; sometimes planes brake, no matter how reliable an airline is. Here, it's like there's no need to be superficial about anything, what's good is good and what's bad is bad; if there's a plane that looks like this, maybe it's not on the top of my priority list to get it out of the way because there are more important things to worry about than lying to passengers that planes never end up looking this way.

A related theme is the lack of regard for personal space. I'm totally ok with that; we're way too protective about it in the States. Ownership again. What's mine is mine and yours is yours. We're also wayyy to easily offended. I don't care if you're touching me on the bus, there's no way around it and, no, it's not like I'm being harmed. Personal questions like "are you married?" the first time you meet someone gives you something interesting to talk about; no need to jump around social niceties that skirt around the risk of making those involved uncomfortable at the compromise of conversation with some kind of significance.

Anyway we had to go to bed relatively early because the next day was Khojo Hyderabad (Search/discover Hyderabad). This was an awesome program. Picture it: We're divided into groups of about 4 and given the location of a specific place in the city. We're to find our way there (likely by way of autorickshaw), and upon arrival we engage in cultural activities that deepen our understanding of Hyderabad and India in general. We travel all around like this for the whole day, and at the end "points" are added up depending on the time it took each group to reach each destination, the cost of transportation for each group, and how well we answered certain questions about the activities. Our first stop was a home store where we learned how fabrics are dyed and stamped with designs. I also learned how the process of embroidering works through first hand experience (no one could explain it either, the workers spoke no English so I learned through observation). Thread is circled around a small hook and brought up through thin fabric; it is threaded under the fabric and then up through again, ending up through the previous loop. Yes, it is as confusing as it sounds and, yes, I do have an extended appreciation of it now.

We ate lunch at a place in this mall that had 6 levels. It was obviously pretty high-end and really tasty...the best part was biryani rice with Thai curry poured over it (I combined them myself because it was my idea). Anyway, we got an auto to the next stop, a museum. Our auto driver was named Jafiz? (Half-eez) and was quite the driver. I thought I was going to be killed at least a dozen times. It's really not a big deal to those who are used to driving in the city, but to an American who is used to obeying traffic laws and driving in-between the lines, it's a borderline traumatic experience until you realize that you're in good hands. There's really no way to describe it; I was sitting in the front with him this time too, hunched over because I was too tall, so my head was practically right up against the glass in the front (do they call it a windshield?) and aptly able to see all the obstacles that we were about to hit...all the time...from anywhere. You name it, bikes, other autos, cars, people, curbs, carts, animals...anything can come at you from anywhere. It's that personal space thing again; I'm not used to not having any...especially something like practically touching other vehicles while traveling at vicious velocities and accelerations. Jafiz was unphased, never flinched once, meanwhile I was practically screaming the whole time...and, yes, having the time of my life; it was probably better than any roller coaster I've been on. And he was talking to me the whole time too. We talked about the Muslim faith, working in Hyderabad, his family, driving in the city, all kinds of things. He kept asking us if we wanted to go other places of interest; he was likely just trying to be a good guide and show us around the city, but we had an agenda to keep and despite our constant attempts to explain it to him, I don't really think he ever got that we were racing. Once he stopped next to a fruit stand to suggest a special fruit that he liked. Of course there I was asking how much it cost and what it tasted like while Mindi, Thy, and Batia in the back shouted at me to end my insatiable curiosity and have Jafiz speed up the auto again. We also talked about language (everyone here speaks so many of them!); although he's relatively uneducated, he speaks Urdu, Telugu, English, and Hindi. Telugu is the state language of Andrah Pradesh, but a mixture of Urdu and Hindi is conversationally spoken usually. This mix makes the Urdu that is spoken here more similar to Hindi than to the Urdu that is spoken throughout Pakistan. I would have liked to talk to him more, or at least say a goodbye that was longer than half a second, but as soon as we pulled up to the museum, we all had to jump out and run, as another group was arriving as well. I think we ended up getting there first, practically knocking several Indians down on the way to the front line and arriving without enough breath to speak.

The museum was dedicated to the seventh ruler of the Nizam dynasty, the one who build the Chomahalla (sp?) Palace. Maybe I'll look up his name later, I can't remember it now. The most interesting thing there was a marble statue of a women with a veil over her body; you could see her as a whole person, even with a facial expression, but she had this flowing veil covering her that looked like it was blowing in the wind...all cut from one marble. So while I was there, not even making eye-contact with others because I was looking at various articles, a total of three Indians came up to me and out of the blue started conversations, usually starting with "where are you from?" The last one was really vocal, having lots of ideas that he was just dying to get a foreign opinion about. It was interesting, we got into a conversation about the Iraqi war and Bush. When I told him that there were things he did with which I did not agree, he asked "why did you elect him then?" Oh what could be farther from the truth. I explained myself, and tried not to blame him for the misconception; if a president is a representative of a country, why wouldn't a citizen of that country be represented by the president? Maybe he wasn't aware of Bush's ratings. We exchanged emails as I headed off to the entrance of the museum, already late for the next stop, a temple.

We stepped out of the museum to answer the offers of several auto drivers, all wanting 150 or so rupees to get us there. We all tried to talk them down, being advised not to go above 75 or certainly 100 rs. We were afraid that we'd have to take a hit and end up paying more than other groups when my Jafiz drove up! (it had been at least an hour and a half to two hours that we were in the museum, it was sheer coincidence that he was passing by) He offered us 80 rs. charge with which we promptly agreed, plus I was eager to continue our conversations. After arriving at the temple, I tipped him 10-20 rs. for the good (and thankfully safe) time as we parted. At the temple (ramakrishna math I think?) we had a guided discussion on Indian philosophy. Travis, a philosophy major, ate it all right up.

The temple stressed purity, excellence, strength, etc. I asked the lecturer what defined "right" and "wrong" (just to see what he'd say). He had the rest of us applaud at my question because he enjoyed it so, although everyone else was reluctant to praise me for asking yet another question (my curiosities of many things have run deep in the past week). He answered by saying that the brain was fickle and changes from day to day, but that the heart was constant and would provide any answer you seek. I wasn't quite sure how to take that answer, it is always your brain that has to choose right and wrong, but maybe it's that there are some pervasive morals/values that we need to honor (heart) and that can guide us. Travis (usually quiet) ended up asking the most questions; I was so glad that he could understand our lecturer because I sure couldn't. What I could piece together from the hour and a half discussion was what I just wrote, the rest might as well have been Telugu. Yes it was another one of those language barrier times, fortunately I was not so frustrated by it this time; it was what it was and I couldn't really do anything about it. Cat was devastated though, we stepped ouside and she nearly cried (mostly sarcastically though, you have to know Cat to understand how she acts) and claimed she was going through a crisis; she was so interested in the philosophy in the temple and imagined that it would solve so many of life's issues, but she just could not understand what was being said. I explained to her that I knew how frustrating it was, having something you wanted so bad right in front of you but still being unreachable. Evidently no one ended up understanding the poor man very well. Except Travis. Maybe he was just listening that much more intently.

We were on our way to the next stop (a park) and decided to walk, being told by locals it wasn't far. Of course the locals had a lot to say about the wrong things, we were lead in back to the temple several times. I've never quite experienced being in the center of attention like I did when we were trying to find this park, and you know how I'm always the center of attention when walking though this city. Yes, I got the stares, but people approached me a lot this time. They'd come up to you and hold their hand out to greet you, practically mystified as they stumbled out some English to the effect of "where are you from?" When you'd go to shake their hands, they wouldn't let go...not really like you couldn't physically get away, but you knew for sure the handshake just wasn't over quite yet. Then another person would come, and another, and there would be more hands to shake, and more questions to answer. My group continued on in the other direction, figuring I'd follow eventually. We all had cells, I'd be able to get back with them but I still needed to find a way to free myself. More people came. Someone who spoke English pretty well came forward and asked if I needed help with something. He told me how to get to the park (the directions I could tell were actually back to the temple); I thanked him nonetheless, and then he promptly asked again if I needed any help. Others asked more questions, more stares. Never was I once fearful, just maybe weirded out by all the curiosity. That's what I love about this though, even though there are language barriers to get across here, they have curiosity about me, and I about them, and when that mutual interest is there, language just doesn't seem to be as important as living up and enjoying an attempted conversation. People started whipping out their cells, asking to take pictures. Yes I had to pose with many people. Come on, how could I be like..."ok, bye!" ?? More shaking, more questions. Suddenly a hand grasped my arm and pulled hard, yanking me away from the dozen or so that surrounded me. Startled, to looked around to see Cat dragging me away giggling to herself. Quickly I farewelled all my fans, so thankful that I had a legitimate excuse to leave and catch up with the rest of the group. I was afraid that some may be mad for holding them up like that, but Cat said that she came to get me mostly just because they didn't want me to be left behind.

We located a large lake in the center of the city, but still needed to find out which way to walk. Our map wasn't helping and two other groups joined us, lost as well. I went up to someone my age nearby and started up a conversation (I'm known to do that now), first asking if he spoke English and then asking if he knew where this forsaken park was. He didn't quite know how to respond, but Ben came over and tried his luck at Hindi. More Indians nearby came over, and one came forward who knew English pretty well; he tried to tell us where he thought it was but wasn't really sure, of course it seemed like no one was really sure. One of the other group members came by to enter into the discussion, the rest were arguing with auto drivers over prices and staring at the map that didn't make any sense. A toothless old woman tugged at my sleeve and motioned her hand to a child's mouth who was sitting in her arms. I don't like kids, but this one was adorable. She smiled as she glanced at me, and I at her, then she started giggling. Her smile melted me and made me laugh too. Then she pointed to her mouth and made a wincing face. I shook my head at them both, looking up at the rest of the crowd that had gathered. There were at least, no lie, two to three dozen people that had formed this semicircle around us, all staring and some trying to talk in English. The women kept tugging. This is ridiculous, why the hell am I not helping her at all? It'd be different if there were more beggers around; you wouldn't be able to give to them all, yeah, I've heard that before. This woman though was the only one that I saw the whole day in the city. I asked Lindsay for some small change since I had only unbroken 100s (it seems like small bills are worth more than their larger sum bills...people generally have a hard time making change); she gave her 4 rs. and we were done with it; whatever, I could wipe it from my mind and we could get on our way, what is literally 10 cents to me anyway?

We took a guess as to what direction to go and started away, my group shouting at me to stop talking and get a move on. There were more pictures before we left, more handshakes, etc. I ran up behind the group and Rachel turned to me with wide eyes and said "how do you do it? how do you end up starting up conversations like that?" I explained that it definitely helped looking the way I do for sure! She was in envy. For certain reasons it would suck to be one of the girls in the group, mostly because they can't really have the social freedom that us men do. They can't smile at others acceptably, and it would be strange to be seen striking up a conversation like I love doing; other women in the society I've heard just aren't that engaging either, they seem to be used to keeping quiet.

Anyway we had to end up calling Anuj and Madhuri to get directions to the park. Before boarding the bus to go eat dinner I had met several other characters, all about my age or a little older. During one conversation they asked what I was doing standing alongside the road; when I said that I was waiting for a break in traffic to get to the other side, one grabbed my arm and started walking into the road with his other hand up in the air, halting the cars rocketing and honking down the street. Although I felt kindof like an old lady, I was thankful for the assistance.

We had dinner at this hotel and it was AMAZING; I'm not quite sure why, just how it tasted I guess, I mean there weren't any especially new dishes there, it was just so good though. I especially loved the paneer butter masala. Maybe I'm getting good with eating with my hands; that's still so weird but so much fun. Many of the other students regularly do it too. Anuj and Avenish and I joked around a lot at dinner, everyone was in such a good mood. They'd joke with me about how inquisitive I was especially, but I could tell they liked answering all my questions. I made a mental note though to make sure to keep things in check; even though none of my questions were dumb ones, you don't want to be annoying.

Then the prizes were awarded. It felt kindof like Harry Potter. The points for each team were tallied and summed. My team came in second, and after the award was divided up amongst us, I had 2,500 rs., or over 60 dollars; not a bad profit for an amazing day that I'd give practically anything to relive. On the ride back to the resort I was just recalling all the people I had met throughout the day and everywhere we had been, all we had done; what en experience! It's hard to believe that the orientation is already over. Today is the last day of "summer." Tomorrow is the start of the academic semester. I have classes tomorrow. It's a school night. It can't feel farther from it though. I'm having the time of my life, and although I like school and all, the word "school" certainly doesn't conjure up such an amazing experience as this one. India's been awesome so far, and I can't wait to start classes and meet all kinds of people. Who ever thought that getting an education could be so fun?