On Independence Day, August 15th, the school had a 6 km "jog for health." The course went through parts of the campus, starting at the sports complex. Even though it was a Saturday, I was there at 6 am to meet up with Subhash and Many. They were handing out T-shirts at the complex and a swarm of people were clammoring to get them...waiting in line is a "foreign" concept here, whoever can assert themself enough gets the shirt, or in Gops, his or her food. It was like a riot at times, people shouting and reaching and grabbing and pushing and shoving. I greatly enjoyed just looking at the scene for a few minutes. All this over T-shirts. Many people got the shirts and then left, having signed up for the jog with the intention of aquiring sought-after apparel, not exercise. After a quick warm up to Shakira and a brief speech by the athletic director on the importance of fitness, we were off. Most were less enthusiastic for the beginning of the run than for their T-shirts. Most of my friends wanted to know if I wanted to walk with them the whole way, but I was keen on the jog. First of all, I hadn't been running very much during my time here, so it was refreshing; additionally, I felt like I was in the Olympics. US vs. India. There were literally no other white people there. Also I was the tallest. Talk about standing out. Feeling inside like I was representing the whole of the States, I pushed foreward and subconsciously wanted to size up the other Indians, despite the jog being about exercise, not competition. Many decided to cut off the loops in the course to get ahead; I decided not to cheat...the jog was about exercise anyway right? I crossed the finish line and was greeted after with a spicy/salty yogurt...drink. It made my face scrunch up when I drank it, but the Indians loved it. My Yoga instructor told me that he had met his goal of coming in 5th place. I knew that he was behind me the whole time; when I asked him what my position was, he said 3rd. There were 400 joggers. I came in 3rd. In general, I think aerobic exercise is less stressed here than in the States, I mean I never see Indians jogging; if you do see someone running around, it's likely to be an SIP student. I've been to the weight room too at the sports complex. It's pretty nice with many machines that mostly work. There's also a total of 5 dumbells.

That afternoon the Vice Chancellor of the school gave a speech which hundreds of people attended. I think it was to commemorate India? Maybe? He did a whole lot of recognizing the school though, boasting incessantly about it's large size, large student population, unparalleled teaching, lump investments, new construction projects etc. He also spent a great deal of time defending himself with regard to the dorm shortage on campus, blaming the construction contractors for taking too long to build more dorms. He was also boring. Very boring. And it lasted for like 2 hours. Despite going into how *great* the school was, he failed to mention once the SIP program. I care more about one of the only foreign exchange programs in India, flourishing nonetheless, than how many lacs (100,000 rs.) it costs to throw up another building with state-of-the-art architecture, aka concrete.

That afternoon at lunch I was talking about the speech with my friends; if you had gone at the very least you could all agree on how boring it was. Anyway a visiting professor from the States popped up at our table with an excited look on his face. The timing couldn't have been more impeccable. *Did you guys hear that SPEECH?* I looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Yes?" *Did you LIKE IT?* "....ummm" *Wasn't it AMAZING?* "...." *I mean didn't you hear all the STUFF he said about the UNIVERSITY? I mean who WOULDN'T want to study at a place like this?* I looked at my friends with a confused face, kindof ready to crack up, but still really confused; he was so enthusiastic I couldn't tell whether or not he was being genuine. "um...are you being sarcastic?--" *NO! I LOVED the speech!--* "OH, yeah, it was pretty good" *Yeah, you guys are lucky to be at a university like this* "...yeah." He sat down at another table shaking his head in disbelief at how much the school had to offer. My friends and I tried to contain ourselves but pretty much cracked up anyway. It just counldn't have been more unexpected.

That weekend Sumedha, Bikram, Ankush, Vipin, and I went to Secunderbad, now part of Hyderabad, to shop for a laptop for Vipin. We stopped at a famous Hyderabadi restaurant called Paradise to get Biryani, a unique favorite of Hyderabad which this place was renouned for. We got orders of mutton (lamb) and chicken biryani, and I also got Malai Kufta (vegetable ball curry) with roti. I can't tell you how delicious it was. Have you ever wanted to cry because of how good the food you were eating was? You just need to come here and try it. It's incomprehensible. Biryani is like rice layered with spices and meat and vegetables and more spices; it's eaten with yogurt sauce and of course you can't get the full effect unless you eat with your hands. I'm not even going to describe the Malai Kufta, I wouldn't be able to do it justice. My friends grinned when they tasted it and said it was made well. Heck yes it was. They seemed to enjoy everything as much as I did. They were all from different states, so maybe the uniqueness of Biryani was something we could all appreciate, but I mean even if you lived here, how could it ever get old?

As Vipin looked around for a laptop, Sumedha and I went to a shopping center and I ended up buying a traditional Kurta, complete with scarf and shoes (I don't know the actual words for them). The outfit is red and very long and intricate but not busy...perfect. If you want to see it later you'll have to ask, I probably won't be wearing it on any old day. Now I just need to find a wedding to be invited to...

Later that weekend we all went to "mushroom rock," a rock formation way out in the middle of nowhere by Gachibowli stadium on government property. The sight was...baffling, I couldn't quite figure it out. A huge boulder at least as big as a truck was balanced on two stones underneath that probably in sum only were touching it maybe a square foot. You'll have to see it, I'll try to put up a picture. It just doesn't look possible, as if it wouldn't work unless God were invisibly bolstering it up.

On another note about food, I went to a Punjabi restaurant with Satish and Many the other day. It was interesting. Satish ordered everything in Telugu, and I wasn't quite sure what I was getting, but whatever they serve was what I wanted anyway. I asked if the food was going to be spicy (I was craving spice since the guest house really takes it out of their food for the westerners). He replied that he told the waitor to take out the spice. I got a confused look on my face. "I thought you knew I liked spicy food" *Oh, but itt is nott good, nai?* "No, I really like spicy food." Satish summoned the waitor and said some things, giving me a grin afterward. When the food came the waitor hovered over me. He pointed to some dishes and said *spicy.* I thanked him and tasted it. Very good, not incredibly spicy, but very good. Satish looked at me *Spicy?* I nodded. The waitor looked at me and grinned *Spicy.* "...Yes, thank you." I couldn't have been more annoyed. I'm sick of being catered to. I wanted the food that the restaurant prepares, not the food that they alter to fit my taste. I hate the assumption that we won't like the spices that they use here. If you don't want spice, it should be your responsibility to specify. Evidently though it is more difficult to specify authenticity than it is to specify modification.

After eating I asked Satish what he thought of the city. He went on and on about how it was being developed and was the center of technology industries and has many unique things to offer. After I asked what he didn't like about the city (I mean there had to be something, the place isn't perfect by far). He got a confused look and mentioned something about Muslims, then continued his appraisal of the city. I asked about the Muslims. After much time he said that this concerned a negative part of the city and that he didn't want to tell me. Trying to contain myself, I asked what the situation was all about. If he just didn't like talking about it, that's one thing, but if he didn't want to tell me just because he didn't want me to know anything but the positives, that's another. Sheltered experience all over again. You really have to work for authenticity. Anyway he went on about the bombings that have been going on in India and in Hyderabad last year. He thinks that there's still tension between some Muslims and Hindus that makes him uncomfortable etc., nothing really I hadn't heard before, but it was sure what I wanted to hear from him, and it took some prying to get to. His perception was what I was after, not the objective bonuses the city has to offer.

I brought up my frustrations at a CIEE meeting. Some people went on about how we as foreiners can't ever truly be Indian and how you can't exect to be treated as one either. It's a difficult notion, I mean this is true but at the same time there are things that you can experience that Indians likewise experience. While we all have different perceptions, and I don't hope to have an entirely "Indian" percpetion, experiencing something that Indians are used to experiencing doesn't necessarily make you more "Indian," but at the least exposes you to something new. You can argue back and forth, and we did. I constructed an adequate analogy (something I'm fond of): I am a human from the land, diving into the sea of India for some time. The Indians here are fishes swimming in the sea. I'm used to walking, but would like to learn how to swim. While I can't swim just like a fish, I can kindof try to learn how. Learning how to swim underwater doesn't make me a fish. I'm a human and can't change that. And that's fine. I have a choice though, to experience the underwater world with a dry suit on or not. I'm still "underwater" with a dry suit on, but the environment is modified to give me a sense of what I'm used to. Without a dry suit, the water may be a little colder and the environment more harsh, but in some debatable way, it offers a more authentic experience. This is what I'm after.