Two weekends ago was another trip to Ellora. With so many places to see in India, visiting the same place twice is a strange idea. I had gone back for many reasons; I’d really enjoyed Ellora the first time I’d been there, I wanted to visit Vijay again (the vendor I met the first time), I hadn’t seen Ajanta (the other set of cave temples nearby), and my really good friends were going (Melissa, Ben, and Tori). It’s an interesting situation to be back at a place you’ve visited before; imagine vacationing to the same place. Your ties with an area are reified, and this can mean deeper appreciation of the area with a new perspective that you’ve been able to develop over time. Plus I like showing people around; it was fun to say to my friends *this is where you get delicious banana lassi* *this is the path that leads up to that hidden temple* *this is the cheapest place for lodging* *this is the bus stop, we have to get this certain bus to reach this certain place…make sure you flag it down though, otherwise it will just rocket along right past you.*

See there’s always something you can gain from any experience. If I had traveled somewhere else that weekend, I’d have gotten the chance to see a brand new place; having traveled to Ellora again, I got to experience it from a different perspective and also spend more time with my good friends. In any case you can learn something new and take from the situation what it offers.

Every weekend SIP students are travelling to all sorts of places in India, coming back with interesting stories and experiences to share. It’s very easy to judge the experience you’re having against others. Sometimes I see myself thinking “oh, maybe I should have gone there/done this/bought this/NOT bought this” because I’m rating what I’m doing, how I’m spending my time/money/attention etc. in relation to that of everyone else. It’s easy to be consumed with doubt about what your own story is. “Is my time here in India what I want it to be?” “There’s so much to see and do…maybe I’m not making the right choices.”

The point is that every experience offers its own benefits and disappointments. No situation is perfect, and likewise is not the worst it could be. Additionally we all have different values; we all see the positives and negatives of a situation differently. In such a way not only is every situation unique but also any one person’s perception of a situation. Although you make certain choices about how you want to spend your time, the time actually spent will say what it has to, and it may not always be what you expected. Things can work out or maybe they won’t, and you can only do so much to produce an expected outcome and regulate all the many subtleties that produce it; in any case an experience is unique and offers its own story.

Time spent is really time spending itself, moving forward in its own way and progressing as a product of an infinite number of influences over which no person has total control. When you see it that way, it doesn’t make a ton of sense to be consumed by disappointment if things aren’t going your way; things are just the way they are. Plus hindsight only is 20/20; sometimes great things turn into great problems, and frustrations turn into just what you needed. “Chumm-ah” (whatever the spelling is) is a word that I’ve heard some people use here in conversation. It basically translates to “simply,” “just like that,” or “it is what it is.” This one word isolates a dimension of perspective that can be really helpful in a lot of ways; sometimes it’s best not to judge something as good or bad but just see it simply as it is.

It’s not like you should never be elated or distraught, those reactions are part of living; I’ve likely spent some of my happiest and most upset moments in India. It’s just helpful to realize that there’s always more to the story.

WELL let’s see, we arrived in Aurangabad after the +14 hour train ride and ate at a restaurant that had Punjabi and North Indian cuisine. Let me just digress again for a second. North Indian and South Indian foods are very different and I have strong opinions about each. South Indian (from my experience so far) mainly offers variations on the theme of some kind of rice or bread (usually fried) accompanied with a chutney or spicy dal; dosas, puri, rice and dal, idli (a perfect example) all constitute my idea of South Indian patterns. When I think of North Indian on the other hand, curries and gravies with all sorts of vegetables or other filling come to my mind, along with roti or naan. My favorites include kaju (cashew) curry, paneer palak (cheese spinach), malai kofta, and baigan (eggplant) masala. I always look for these on a menu. Yes I’m REALLY biased toward North Indian foods; fortunately it’s offered a ton of places in South India as well, but I can’t wait to travel north and verify that North Indian cuisine is indeed my favorite food on the planet.

That afternoon I also had kachori; it was like a hollow crust ball with a spice/potato mix inside. A sweet sauce is also poured into it which makes it not only fun to eat but twice as delicious. I’m definitely on the search for it in Hyderabad, it’s got to be somewhere. Ok so we got the bus to Ellora and met up with Vijay there. He of course showered us with free crystals and chai along with his characteristic hospitality, as well as his many stories about meeting past tourists; he sure does like talking about meeting people. That afternoon we went to the temple he showed me last time and we all swam and relaxed until dinner.

We went with Vijay to a nearby restaurant and the power was out so we ate outside by dim candlelight. While discussing what we were going to do the next day, Melissa mentioned the idea of seeing Ellora at the beginning of the next day and then Ajanta (two hours away) in the afternoon. Vijay then talked about how it would be difficult to appreciate each place in such a short amount of time and also how it upset him that people didn’t spend enough time in these places in order to realize the value of them and the hard work they required. He also talked about how much of India is missed by people who come to Goa only to party. During his talking I was hoping my friends weren’t offended; there was some correlation between what he was talking about and our brief amount of time in the area. When he was finished he immediately said that although he wasn’t referencing us, he could tell we were upset. We weren’t. He insisted that he had disturbed us and apologized; we insisted that we agreed with him, wished we had more time to appreciate the temples, and realized where he was coming from. It seemed he had refused to hear us and continued to feel bad about “insulting” us. Contrastingly, we were actually thrilled that we had gotten something out of him that he felt passionately about and could have a discussion over. He remained aloof for the rest of dinner, not making an effort to incorporate himself in conversation as usual.

This has happened before. When I was at Ellora with Madeline, Miriam, and Anna, they were interacting with him less than I was, and he ended up throwing a “hypothetical” scenario at them out of the blue that went like this: “If you had a group of visitors to the United States and you were showing them around the area where you lived but they only talked amongst themselves, how would you feel?” Obviously in some way he was moved by the present circumstances to voice himself in his own way.

Anyway, it was happening again; the four of us were having a fine time talking about whatever, and Vijay could have easily inserted himself but he refrained. I knew he would get upset about this. I tried incorporating him and asking him questions, abnormally loud actually, so he would get the point that we valued what he had to say about things too and didn’t have to remain silent.

That night we slept very well in the same room I had stayed in my last weekend at Ellora; we woke up early then to head to Ajanta. After banana lassi, chai, and flattened/fried rice we told Vijay that we were heading to Ajanta; I was expecting him to come with us and drive his car, but he got a hold of one of his friends who drove us there instead for prices that were only slightly less than what it would have cost for the bus there. Although we had wanted him to come along, I guess he had other things to do and I personally was glad that we weren’t going to have to deal with him and could enjoy ourselves by ourselves.

It was great. The taxi drive there (two hours) was half as long as a bus would have taken and we talked the whole way. The Ajanta caves were stellar too, I think I may even like them better than the Ellora caves. ps it cost rs.250 for foreigners to enter the cave grounds and only rs.10 for an Indian. Such price discrepancies arose in India after a prime minister had visited Disney World in the States and realized how much more expensive admission fees were there. With a new perspective, he marched back to India and made certain that foreigners were paying their just tourist entry fees (in this case 25 times more). On one hand, it makes sense that someone who is privileged enough to travel across the world can pay a little extra. On another hand, is it really right that my skin color jacks up a price? I guess it could be argued either way and goes along the same lines as an auto driver or ice cream vender demanding prices from us that one of my Indian friends would even take a second glance at. The largest discrepancy I’ve heard of is at the Taj Mahal; entry for foreigners is rs.750, whereas a resident Indian only pays rs.20.

The Ajanta caves are all Buddhist in faith affiliation and are also are painted on the inside. Although much of it has faded over the years (the caves date back to the 7^th century I think), the interiors are still spectacular. As Buddhism waned in India during that time and the focus shifted to the Ellora caves, the Ajanta caves were abandoned for centuries until they were rediscovered by a British tiger hunting party in the 19^th century. That would have been quite an unexpected sight.

I also loved the environment; the Ellora caves are spread out across a lengthy range and scattered, the Ajanta caves all exist at one bend in a river that has carved a deep basin against a cliff. Great views. We hiked all around them, across a stream that turned into a cascading waterfall, plains that led right up to the cliffs in which the caves were carved, and steep forested areas up and down many steps to get from the bottom river up to the top and back. Hiking for views is one of my favorites, especially when it involves rivers, cliffs, and ancient carved temples.

There were lots of kids there on school field trips. And they all were really into us. A group would spot us and approach us staring and giggling, encircling us and asking questions to practice their English. So many eyes on you. So many hands wanting to be shaken. After a group had met us they had no trouble letting us know where they were (even if across the river), by shouting our names at us to get our attention. Some of them have quite the personality.

Upon returning to Ellora we met up with Vijay so he could show us around another area of Ellora. Previously eager up the wall to let us know that he enjoys showing tourists around, we were surprised to hear that he was actually planning on meeting two girls from the States who were interested in looking around at his shop. I’m realizing that he does stuff like this all the time, backing out on plans I mean, and coupled with his annoying tendencies during social interaction, I came to the conclusion that enough was enough and I didn’t want to have us spending time with him anymore. He continually seemed less and less genuine, and I felt misled by his initial enamoring gestures of guided mountain hikes, free chai/crystals, and rosy stories about past friendships with Ellora visitors. Vijay is an overly perceptive person and immediately knew I was dissatisfied with him as I turned to walk away with an angry squint in my eye without a goodbye.

Instantly he was on the defensive, claiming that he knew exactly what I was thinking and that he didn’t deserve to be treated this way after all that he’s done for us. No effort was made to figure out why I was upset; I was the one who immediately was at fault. He continued to scorn me for not being thankful enough for what he was doing for us etc., and I had my share of words with him as well. That lasted until I really had to remove myself and walked away, as Tori, Ben, and Melissa (quiet until that point and probably alarmed that things had turned ugly) continued to try to reason with him. I sat and waited for them until things had quieted down, thinking that although the situation had been intense and uncomfortable, I really knew the whole time that it would happen and knew that I shouldn’t be surprised things had deteriorated the way they had.

Tori, Ben, and Melissa knew where I was coming from and sort of had the same feelings about him but at the same time still really appreciated his helpful and sensitive personality. Of course he was tangibly nice to us, offering us so many things, but there’s an intangible part of interaction that was absent (although necessarily noticeably) which includes a genuine interest in who the other party is. I had had more experience with that than the others had and was able to develop a sense of it over time. The four of us continued to talk about it and reason the situation out; they also mentioned how Vijay had said how upset he was at us for not incorporating us in our discussions at dinner the previous night. He didn’t think we cared much for him and that’s why he decided neither to take us to Ajanta nor spend time with us that evening. I had internally known that all along and that’s partially why I had gotten so angry; he likes to throw the blame and force us to play the sympathy card by having us realize that we had wronged him despite all of his generosity. No one needs that, and certainly I was through dealing with it.

At the same time I kindof questioned how I judged him; maybe I was imposing a set of social standards on him and wrongfully expected him to be engaging us in conversation. At the same time, if he’s interacting with as many tourists as he claims to be, you’d think he’d get the hint that people like you to talk with them, not at them. He called me half an hour later apologizing and obviously upset. I told him I’d talk to him before we left for Hyderabad.

After dinner the four of us laid on the roof of out lodging staring at the stars (including several shooting ones and the rest of the Milky Way galaxy, visible as a hazy line across the clear sky). We had lengthy conversations that touched upon topics spanning from long distance relationships to the infinity of the universe to unexplainable happenings which lasted hours and hours until we grew tired. The stars were noticeably in a different location when we finished, I remember the one I had been focusing on ending up at the other end of the sky before we went to bed.

The next day we glimpsed my favorite temples at Ellora (including the famous Kailas temple, the largest cut piece of rock in the world having necessitated the removal of 200,000 tons of rock over 150 years). After, we were headed to the Daultabad fort on the way back to Aurangabad. I took care to enjoy my banana lassi and chai; our restaurant at Ellora certainly had its own delicious, unique taste to it, and now that I was satisfied with my time at Ellora, there were other places to see in India and I’d likely never be back.

During breakfast I paid a visit to Vijay who was acting good as new, smiling all the while. I apologized as well for overreacting the previous night but also made sure I explained why we had gotten upset with him. It was more disappointing to us what he didn’t say than what he had said; the only interesting engagement on his part was when he was sure he had insulted us, sometimes that’s the risk you take though in conversation. In the end his silence was the root of the problem leading to his accusations against us that we were mistreating him. He was mostly keen on leaving it in the past and starting fresh over with the new day. Even though regrets can be unhealthy, learning from mistakes certainly isn’t. Whether or not he actually heard what I had to say no one knows. Just like no one knows whether or not his intentions were genuine or whether he was just after money (we bought nothing from him what weekend anyway); no one knows whether or not he actually wanted to get to know us but maybe just possesses a misguided sense of social interaction; no one knows whether or not his slue of stories about other tourists was true (although he did have a lot of pictures to back himself up). In the end it was what it was, and I think we all walked away having learned something. With a smile and a nod, we shook hands as Tori, Ben, and Melissa thanked him for his time and boarded the bus.

I was excited to see the fort again; it was a blast to climb up last time (you know I like hiking with the reward of a good view). While the bus slowed at the stop, we stood to walk off. Suddenly the bus jerked forward again, I guess the driver wasn’t quite finished driving or something, but Tori ended up falling and smashing her toe into a bench. Disembarking, we realized it could have been serious when she couldn’t put much weight on it or walk properly. As soon as I had stepped off I spotted Feroz, a vender I had met and conversed with last time I was there. We eagerly exchanged pleasantries and I was glad to see a friendly face. As we walked toward the fort he noticed Tori’s limp and directed us toward a shady spot fetching ice from a juicer. Tori didn’t know whether or not it was a good idea to face the steep steps to the top of the fort, and I was fine sitting and talking with them and other passers-by who were excited to meet us and to hear us practice our Hindi. Melissa and Ben continued on to the top, as I showed Tori around some of the lower elevated portions of the fort. After a whole pineapple for a snack, the four of us were wiped and ready to head back.

In Aurangabad I made sure to locate the kachori salesman again by the train station. Even though they are the size of baseballs, I gladly gobbled down 5 and the vender chuckled at the quantity. It was crazy searching for the train, the station was flooded with people and, not surprisingly, we got much conflicting information about where exactly to go. Asking is a must in India to know what’s going on, just make sure you ask more than one person. Quantity ensures validity. Anyway, although we couldn’t find any more ice for Tori’s toe (which was still giving her much pain), we located our seats and unwound.

The trip back was a quiet one with reading, listening to music, and sleeping. We woke up at 5 am to be ready for our stop and were greeted through the open door with a magnificent sunrise which casted its rays over a foggy countryside scattered with farms.

It’s funny how much you appreciate the ability to set your stuff down in your room and a nice long shower after you’ve been traveling. Unfortunately this time again, just like the previous weekend after Goa, I was greeted with rodent droppings all about my room, including on my clothes, sheets, computer, and pillow. I spent the whole day shaking the “watermelon seeds” out of my belongings, sweeping the floor, smearing hand sanitizer on my desk, and washing all my sheets and lots of clothes. Fortunately it was a sunny day; I’ve never been so grateful to see the sun, things dried so quickly, and I even had two buckets going at once to keep churning out the laundry.

Hmm, so I’m moving my bed and desk around and sweeping everywhere when I move my curtains to one side. Suddenly a rat hops down several feet to the floor and starts scurrying around; it was so unexpected that I let out a deafening shout. It hid behind the bed, and I was left staring and waiting for it to come out. I stood intently for about a minute and a half and then saw his small face peek up over the bed frame to check if I was still here. I pointed toward the open door and told it to leave (that’s actually worked before). He wasn’t moving so I started creeping up to it to try to scare it into the open. Soon he scurried out from under the bed; we ran around each other for some time and then it exited the room and ran down the hall. I chased after it to see if somehow I could get it outside. Unfortunately things didn’t go so lucky; it ended up diving under someone else’s door. The resident was out for the day and his room was locked, so I went back to cleaning my room.

Well, more laundry and more sweeping…then I also think to take down the curtain and wash it. As I spread open the curtain, another rat jumps out and about grazes my chest. That took be probably even more off guard than the first one; I let out another HUGE scream and then shouted at it to leave, as my nerves were pretty rattled. *GET OUT…OUT!!* I wondered what other residents were thinking. I chased it down the hall and into a corner by the bathrooms. I guess neither of us really knew what to do, so it jumped down a gutter hole at the base of the wall which led outside at the ground level. Wherever it was, I didn’t have to worry about it for the time being and went back to washing the curtain. There were nor more rats after that.

To prevent them from coming back in, I cut up an old shoebox and taped it on each side of the base of my door. It was so nice after that knowing for sure that there was no rodent creeping around leaving presents on all your stuff; finally my room was clean as new. When Adam (across the hall) came back from his trip that afternoon, it was an unexpected surprise to see me running up to him as he was unlocking his door…*Adam! Hi! How was your trip? By the way, I was chasing a rat up the hall this morning and he ducked under your door and into your room. He’s been living in my room in and out for the past few weeks and take it from me he’s quite a nuisance, I’d suggests getting rid of him as soon as possible. He can be hard to find, you might have to move around all your stuff. Check the curtains! Hurry before he poops on all your stuff! Ok, bye!*

I started a new trend, by the end of the day every room had some kind of barrier drilled or taped at the base of the doors. I was talking with one of my friends that night; he lives on the floor above me at the opposite end of the hostel. I was telling him about the rat and such…*yeah, I wasn’t expecting them in the curtains, especially after I’d already been cleaning for hours; I let out quite a shout when I found them* “Oh, was that you this morning?” *What do you mean?* “Like shouting ‘get out!’ and stuff?” *…yeah* “Oh, wow, I thought it was a bad fight between someone in the hostel and his girlfriend…”

That was a week ago, and after a whole week I’ve had no more rat problems, guess the cardboard did the trick. Hmm, the past week; right off the top of my head I can think of getting caught up on tabla, sitar, and kathak; writing this blog; watching movies on the laptop with Bikram, Sumedha, Ankush, and Vipin; watching the vice presidential debates; Durga puja; and chaat.

Yeah there was a showing of the debates between Biden and Palin last weekend at a bar at the top of Hyderabad Central, a mall in the city. Since I’ve had very little contact with the political scene back at home, I was excited to get a better taste of the standpoints of each candidate. It was a ton of fun; the bar had a great view of the city and had an overhead projection of the debate on a huge screen. It was really refreshing, being around other foreigners all involved in something that everyone knows about back home at a place that didn’t have flies buzzing around your face. It’s hard to keep on track with the present back in the States. I’m embarrassed to say it but I first heard about the State’s economic troubles from an Indian. I’m used to having Indians know more about the US than I do though. They have opinions about aspects of our foreign policy and economic history that I’m not even familiar with. They say they had to learn about it in school; I feel like I must have too at some point but maybe forgotten. On the whole it does seem that the education system here puts more emphasis on memorizing; maybe that’s why it seems that they know so much. Although I’m sick of spitting up information on tests in class without prior classroom discussions or student participation, I guess really knowing how to memorize has both pluses and minuses.

Durga is a Hindu God, specifically an incarnation of Shiva, and the festival for Durga is going on right now, especially in the state of Bengal. Ankush is Bangali and has been taking us to places around Hyderabad for puja, or ceremonies of praise. The pujas were like the ones I participated in during the Ganesh festival (Ganesh, the elephant god of prosperity, is actually a son of Durga). Basically, there consists of a central idol that is adorned with colors and flowers on which you shower more flowers and also rice grains. A chanter sings out verses, and maybe he’ll put a red tikka spot on your forehead. At some point in time you toss at the idol rice and flowers that you’ve been praying with in between your hands. You usually put your hands over a flame and transfer the heat to your face and head or maybe you even get to move the fiery plate in a circle in front of the idol. Clockwise (or was it counterclockwise?). It can be pretty picky. One time I smelled the flowers I was given before the prayer and my friend immediately got me more, telling me to discard them because the scent needed to be left specifically for the god. Food or sweets are usually given to everyone at some point; one time I thanked the man for it, but after he specifically told me not to. Evidently the food given during the puja is considered like I might regard bread and wine; it made sense after I thought about it, I don’t thank the server during communion.

Ok also chaat. I mentioned earlier about eating kochuri in Aurangabad and since then have been all about trying all different kinds of chaat. Chaat is basically Indian snack food that’s frequently sold at street-side carts but also found in many sweet shops. Chaat basically consists of variations of fried bread with kinds of flavorful sauces, chickpeas, and curd on top. Pani puri is a popular chaat; it’s eaten by punching a hole in the top of a crispy, hollow ping pong ball sized fried bread and filling it with a chickpea sauce and also spicy water. Water and bread mixed doesn’t sound that appetizing at first, but it’s quite a tasty combination when done right. Samosas are also chaat, as well as kochuri…so delicious. I’ve visited many sweet shops and bakeries around the city and university and eventually found my favorite places to go; you only get to eat authentic chaat once!

Let’s see, also I’ve gotten some grades back; my first Indian Society test was 11.5/20, and my history test ended up being an 11/20. The highest score on that test was a 13, so I guess I did ok. See here’s the problem…I’m not used to absolutely no feedback. Essays I write on tests have red check marks on every paragraph, I guess letting me know I got some point right. No comments though. I got my medieval music seminar back too, all sorts of happy checks all over it, but we all know that doesn’t actually correlate with a great grade. The professor is refusing to release the grades on our seminars because if we know it to be satisfactory, there’s no reason to work for the third and final internal assessment because only the best two of the three are counted. Makes sense.

I don’t know any SIP students who are thrilled with the education here; it’s just too different. Basically usually it’s just very difficult to feel engaged in the material when you’re being lectured at the whole time without visual aids. Plus standards are different, here quantity is really better than quality, the exact opposite of what we’re used to. So much of what you learn in the States is how to focus your writing and write well what you need to. Here the more information you include the better; that shows how familiar you are with the material and how much of the reading you’ve done.

Funny random story: The dynamite blasting still is happening all the time to make way for city expansion. Hearing huge explosions that you can actually feel doesn’t really phase anyone anymore. Yesterday at my kathak lesson one went off what shook the concrete walls and violently rattled the locked office door behind us. Our teacher had to stop for a second and knock on the door to check if there was someone on the other side; it looked like someone was trying to escape.

I guess that even though there are some things you get used to here, you don't have to look for long before you spot something unanticipated.

….chummah