Ok hmm the past two weeks...Oh I had my first unsatisfactory visit into the city. We were all going to a music store WAY into the city to pick up tablas with the tabla instructor. There were like a dozen of us and we were all in taxis. I cancelled some things with my friends in order to go; I figured I'd go to pick one out because I can get pretty choosy about my instruments. It took me a while to decide on a sitar earlier, and I only did after listening to the sound on each one. The ride was much longer than I had expected; maybe it was the dense traffic. The taxi drivers keep the windows down, I think it's to be able to hear horns more easily, a necessary element of communication between drivers. So the city exhaust was right at my face, and after a while that can get really old. For someone (me) who stops breathing briefly in the States when a car rolls past in order to avoid exhaust, I was at a loss and decided to compromise by breathing shallowly, and half the time I lifted my shirt above my nose at the cost of looking rediculous. The store was smallish and we couldn't all fit inside. The instructor tested each tabla for sound and the store packaged up a dozen of them, just like that. There was no reason for me to be there. I didn't even carry a set into a car, the storeowners did. The whole day certain things had put me in a bad mood, now it was much worse; sometimes that's just the way it goes. I stood outside the store and looked down the city street thinking "even though you don't want to be here right now, think about where you are." It took some time, and my bad mood didn't go away, but I realized I needed to quit moping. I walked up to some kids and asked them some simple questions in English (for them to practice), then in Hindi and Telugu (for my practice). I just felt like I had to do something, to validate being there. On the ride back home (equally as long and polluted), I initialized a conversation with the driver as well. At dinner back at the guest house, some others were as miffed as I was. When people would ask how the trip was, I giggled to myself and just replied with a let's not talk about it. I'm thankful that I got a tabla, and I'm thankful we had an instructor to help us. But I just didn't need to go, and it took SO much time. Some people back at the house noticed my temperament and were alarmed/confused/shocked that I wasn't being chipper like usual. When you're usually happy, being in a bad mood means that you're perceived as REALLY being in a bad mood. I smiled and calmly explained that I'm a human like everyone else and have an according emotional range. When you get to know me well enough, you realize this. We all have our ups and downs, it just may be more difficult to see when you're inherently more extroverted, especially in a place like this where there are so many people to meet. My tabla set didn't even have the right kind of drums. The store delivered a new set to the guest house the following week.

Yeah after a month and a half of being here, my extrovertedness is kindof burning itself out. I just know way too many people. I'm used to that though. Not only am I just tired, but it's getting to the point where everyone wants to spend some amount of time with me, and when I can't due to other obligations, sometimes feelings can be hurt. People joke that I'm complaining about being too popular. There's definately more to "poplarity" than the conceptulalization that the more you have the better. If I want a close group of friends, I'm going to have to sacrifice my time with others. The Indians I know take your happiness upon themselves; when you don't make an effort to spend time with them, they easily think it's their fault. This is the problem. There's always more people to meet too, usually through the people I already know. When it's all just too much for me to handle, I put on a smiling face and ask them the questions I ask everyone else (where you're from, what you study) and fake a genuine interest behind which I'm shouting TOO MANY PEOPLE. I guess there could be worse crosses to bear :)

Remember the remark I made about me actually being a human? It's actually a joke between Batia and Rachel that I'm an alien that's been sent to Earth to gather information about the planet. "It just fits, I mean, look at him...if aliens crafted how they thought a human would look like, I bet it would look like Matt. And he's always asking questions. What does he do with all that information? I bet he sends it back to his home planet." Let me clarify that Batia and Rachel are some of my best friends here, I guess if you read over what they claim it can seem insulting, but we all think it's the funniest idea ever, including me. "Matt...hmm...Matt, how long did it take your people to come up with that normal-sounding Earth name? Where exactly is your homeworld? Is your respiritory system like ours?" *Well, Batia, I could tell you these things, but then my mission would be compromised and I'd have to kill you.* It's hard to really get the full effect unless you actually *know* Batia and Rachel, just take my word for it though, they're hilarious.

I have more grievances. First of all, the Indians I know here (meaning all of the ones in the entirety of Hyderabad) litter constantly. There's garbage everywhere. There's no recycling either. It's overwhelming sometimes the stench that lingers up your nose when you're walking past garbage piles to class. If you get a piece of gum or candy, the wrapper belongs on the ground and not in the blue dust bins placed around the campus that read "Use Me." This really eats at me, I'm not even just disappointed, I'm pissed. Hey, you don't need to love everything about a different culture right? I make it a point to pick up the garbage that my friends throw on the ground and walk over to the dust bin to dispose of it in front of their faces. No I'm not trying to save the environment. I'm trying to make an impression. It makes no difference to tell people to throw garbage away; I just see doing it overtly yourself as a satisfactory way to convey what my values are by obliquely shoving it into their faces.

The other day Satish and I were having mango juice when I read aloud the ingredients label. Including the "permitted class II preservative." "Satish, what do you think of additives and preservatives? Some of my friends prefer the taste to natural juice" *Oh, no, I only prefer fresh juice, that's what's most natural and healthy. Plus is helps the farmers and not large mass-producing corporations." At that moment Satish took a drag from a cigarette and tossed is wrapper into the bushes. I grinned at the situation, never before both agreeing and disagreeing so intensely at the same time.