The Past

Nostalgia is good. We remember good and bad time in our lives for a reason--those moments changed the course of our lives. Sometimes, I re-read some of my old poems and my old stories, and I laugh, but then I think "Hey, there is some glint in these; I can write something worth while." Here's something I wrote right before my senior year of high school began, and it made me think that we should just stop for a second and write down the first memories that come to our head. We could learn something from ourselves.



It's Sunday, August 3 (Kiera's birthday...big shout out to her), and I'm sitting in Church thinking how Tuesday is the beginning of the end of an era. Because Tuesday, August 5, is the first day of school for those of us who still attened AES, and for me, it's the first day of Senior year.

Over the summer, I've been thinking a lot about Senior year--worrying about Senior year, actually. It's a big thing to worry about. You've got college applications to deal with the first half of the year, and then the second half of the year you have to worry about final exams, which, for me, include the dreaded IB exams. Plus, I have almost all the same super hard classes as I did last year. Needless to say, I was anticipating that this weekend I would be feeling nervous, scared, or maybe even excited that I was finally going to be done with High School and with India. So it surprised me when I discovered that I was a little sad that this year would be my last, not only in High School, but in India too.

When we first moved here, everybody in my old neighborhood told me that I would have amazing experiences. And truth be told, I didn't believe them. But after living here almost two years, I'm kind of starting to believe them. I didn't have any life-changing experiences. I take that back. My life was changed by living here. Just not in the way you'd expect. There are moments from these two years that will probably be ingrained in my mind forever. For example:

I remember the day I left Utah...and the airplane ride to Delhi...and seeing the lights of Delhi for the first time...and my first day in the city when I almost passed out from the combination of masses of people, the smells, and the sights; people pointed at my dad and called him a giant.

I remember the feeling I had my first day at AES.

I remember house hunting with my dad.

I remember getting horribly sick the day of Minicourse. And the consequent train ride on which I threw up at least every hour.

I remember talking to Hannah about anything and everything during free periods.

I remember my first-ever Dead Week (there's a reason they call it that).

I remember the night I flew home for Christmas...and meeting my mom at the airport.

I remember waiting in the halls of Bingham for all my old friends and feeling so out of place it physically hurt me.

I remember the night before I had to go back to Delhi, and Hannah came over to celebrate my Sweet Sixteenth.

I remember my Sweet Sixteenth.

I remember sitting in a bungalow in Nepal, just thinking.

I remember the last day of school and feeling intensly relieved.

I remember the first day I met Maddie, and she gave me one word answers.

I remember the first day I met Miranda, and she wouldn't stop talking.

I remember the first night Maddie, Miranda, and I stayed up until two in the morning.

I remember Youth Conference where we were DJs because we were afraid the boys would ask us to dance (they did anyways).

I remember the first musical I had a major role in.

I remember going out almost every weekend.

I remember flying home for my sister's wedding.

I remember Moti Mahal and Tropicana nights with Maddie.

I remember working out in the weight room at school with Miranda.

I remember going to Shimla with the Stokers.

I remember going to the orphanage and wanting to hold and love every child there.

I remember the night Maddie and Miranda graduated, even though I couldn't be there.

I remember planning next summer with Hannah.

I remember a lot of things. And that's why my life has changed because of India. Because I've made so many memories in so short amount of time with some of the most amazing people I will ever meet. Because it's the little things that count.
I've learned some amazing lessons from those people, and others. Don't worry, I won't list all the lessons I've learned. I guess what I'm trying to say, after all of that, is that while I've hated living here some days, living in India was probably one of the best things that could have happened to me, and I'm really grateful to my parents for giving me the choice to come to Delhi.

So let the beginning of the end...well...begin!

I Miss India

Wait, did I really just write that?

Yes. Yes I did. And I actually mean it too.
Lately, I've been watching a new show called "Outsourced", which was recommended to me by my sister, Heather. I had heard about the show before--it's about a call center from Kansas City that gets outsourced to Mumbai, India, and the new manager from Kansas City has to go over to India to manage the call center. I read some reviews on the it, and they all said that it was an "Office" wanna-be that had way too many racial slurs against Indians. Well, I decided to watch it anyway because: a) I love "The Office", and any show that comes close to "The Office" is probably funny and b) I trust my sister's judgment. If she says it's funny, then it's probably worth looking into. I watched the first couple of shows, and while I won't say I'm hooked, I do like the show a lot (and there aren't that many racial slurs. They do tend to overexaggerate Indian culture, but they're actually pretty close on what life in India for an American is like).

Anyways, the point is that I've been watching the show, and yesterday I watched an episode about Diwali. That's when it hit me--I really miss being in India, with all the crazy holidays, and the monsoons, and the insane taxi/tuk-tuk drivers. I miss being a part of all that. And I would kill for some real Indian food, not the Americanized, tame version that they sell at Bombay House. Also, I kind of miss the heat (I say this as I'm watching the snow fall outside of my window at work).

Goodbye India

Airports are so much fun, aren't they? I really hope you just shook your head and said, "Ashley, I think the past two days of pure boredom have addled your brain because airports suck!" If you didn't, you need to exit this page. Now. I'm afraid I don't tolerate airport lovers (and in case you were wondering, that beginning statement was simply dripping in sarcasm).


Now that that's over with...I am currently sitting in the somewhat comfortable armchair-like seats in front of Gate 1 in the New Delhi, India, International Airport listening to the (very loud) PA system calling for passengers to board the plane or (as is common in India) to wait patiently as the airplane crew try to fix the "technical difficulties" the plane is undergoing, so that the delay will be as short as possible (thank heaven that's not my plane). There's also a 12-fingered man sitting across from me (perhaps I should go up and say, "Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father; prepare to die!"), but that's beside the point. I'm afraid that the time has come to say goodbye to India. And I'm a little bit ashamed to say that, in so many ways, it's quite a relief to say goodbye to India, and all 1.2 billion of its inhabitants. It's a relief to not have to look down at my feet every time I go outside because I'm afraid that the ground I'm walking on has been used as either a garbage heap, a spittoon, or a lavatory. It's a relief not to be stared at every where I go. It's a relief not to have random guys trying and take pictures with me as I'm walking around a tourist attraction. It's a relief to be "normal" again. And yet...


...when Surender (our driver) asked me when I was coming back, I told him, somewhat vehemently, "I'm never coming back to India!" Almost immediately after I said that, a strange sensation swept over me. I was sad. How could it be that I was sad to be leaving India? I'm not really sure if I can answer that question yet. I do know this: India has changed me forever. And I honestly don't mean to be cliche. India changes everyone who passes through, even on fleeting visits. I'm pretty sure that country has a way of bringing out people's true natures. I'm sorry to say mine happened to be rather aggressive, much like my wonderful father (which is probably why almost every Indian guy in the New Delhi 3rd Branch under the age of twenty is afraid of me). No matter, it was an amazing (and highly frustrating five days out of seven) experience, and I don't think I will ever forget my two and a half years in India.

So it's goodbye India, hello whatever new adventure awaits me!

Why it can be frustrating living in India

This past weekend has been...well, it's been a little frustrating for our family (especially my dad). We had the usual problem of power turning on and off all weekend, but then it got worse on Monday morning. On Monday morning, as Mom went down to do her exercises, she began to smell something really bad. And the smell just kept getting worse. Trying to discover where the smell was coming from, Mom discovered that our septic tank was full, and the motor to the septic tank was broken. Basically, our sewer was backing up, and making it's slow, filthy way into our house.
In order to try and cut the smell, Mom poured two large bottles of Clorox bleach into the drains of our basement. It didn't really help. So, Mom then started calling workers who should have been able to come and fix the problem right away. Of course, nobody would come and help. You know why they couldn't come help? Because they couldn't be bothered to come help. ARGH!
And this is why we tend to get frustrated while we live in India. Because nobody really cares about anyone else--they hardly care about themselves. Their work is shoddy, and whenever something breaks, or doesn't work properly, or doesn't work at all, they just stare at you and give that strange head-wobble (the one where you can't tell if they are saying yes or no because it's a combination of both) because they're thinking "Ha! It's not my problem anymore. You figure it out, white girl."
At least we got to stay at the Hyatt for a night.

P.S. Dad came home from work and yelled at the company who is supposed to come fix the house whenever there's a problem. While the problem isn't completely fixed, workers have been working on it for two days straight now. Hopefully it will all be finished soon.

Heat Waves and Rain Showers

Weather is awesome. No, seriously, if you think about it, weather is actually very cool. It's hard for me to say that I have a favorite season--although I always claim I love winter the best. Now, I'm not really sure what season I love best since they all have their merits.
Spring:

• Flowers
• RAIN!
• Everything smells good
• There's lots of baby animals, which are always pretty darn cute

Summer:

• No school
• Summer nights feel so good
• You can go swimming
• Everything is very green (unless there's a drought, and then everything's dead)

Fall:

• All the leaves turn pretty colors
• Days and nights are still pleasantly warm
• Lots of good still growing

Winter:

• Snow makes everything pretty
• Ice skating
• Snowball fights
• It's nice and cold

Anyway, my point is that every season has it's good points. Here in Delhi it seems like there are only two seasons: a cold autumn and a very long, hot, humid summer. I like every kind of weather, but when it feels like one is dragging on for over half the year, that's just too much. Here in Delhi, summer starts at about the beginning of April, and it lasts until about the middle of October, and we get some pretty crazy heat waves during that time.

Right now, while it is starting to warm up considerably, the weather is still very nice and warm. This is helped by the infrequent rain showers that occur in Delhi. Take today for example: it was getting hot this morning, but then the clouds rolled in, a breeze picked up, and it drizzled for about 3 minutes. Now it's absolutely gorgeous outside. I'm just glad I won't be here during the summer vacation, when it's so unbearably hot, foreigners tend not to stray outside the comfort of their air conditioned living rooms.

Ok, so I'll cut through all that babbling, so you can get to the real message of this post. To put it simply:

Heat waves=BAD

Rain=GOOD

And I'm just hoping for a little more rain showers, and a lot fewer heat waves, for my last two months in Delhi.

Have an awesome HOLIday

One good thing about India is that it has incredible holidays. Take Diwali for example. Diwali--the festival of lights--is like the Fourth of July on steroids. It simply amazes me that the city hasn't burned down in all these years because there are so many fireworks and candles, and everything in between, being lit in one night. Indeed, I have heard of many cases where batches of fireworks have gone AWOL say to speak and flown into the house, after it was lit. Inspite of all the potential dangers, Diwali is still an awesome festival (and not just because you can buy fireworks that are illegal in the States).

One of the coolest holidays I have ever taken part in, however, is Holi. Holi is a lot of things--it's the festival of spring, love, and color. And Holi doesn't just happen, like every other holiday. You have to go play Holi. It's pretty easy to play; all you have to do is buy colors (they typically only come in yellow, pink, blue, green, and red), go outside, and throw colors at everyone and everything (including cars, dogs, and cows). Here are a few photos of what people did to look like at the end of this absolutely incredible holiday (a holiday which I plan on continuing to celebrate when I move back to the States):

This Is One Of Those Things You Just Have To Laugh At...

India, with all it's faults (of which it has may), can make you laugh. There are some things that the Indian people do that seem so incredibly ludicrous to Western society, but it seems perfectly sane to them. It's almost midnight, and I was Stumbling (see previous posts) when I discovered this picture from Mumbai (Bombay), which is a major city on the eastern coast of India:

In case you can't quite make out what the sign says, here is the warning that the sign gives: "ATTENTION: This building is unsafe and likely to collapse. Persons entering the property do so at their own risk. The owners of the property will not be liable for any damage to life and property."

Well, at least they warned us, right?

Kerala Part Two

Because Mom really enjoyed the last pictures, here are some more for your viewing pleasure! This is Kiera and her friend Chloe Stoker. This picture was taken as we took a hike through the Periyar tiger preserve:

People in India associate a lot of things with cows, and the Hindus even worship the cow. It was fun to see a huge cow fair as we were driving to one of our hotels. There were hundreds of cows, and a lot of them had the horns painted like these guys below: Don't worry, painting the horns wasn't a fashion statement. When owners paint their cows' horns a certain color it tells the other traders and buyers where the cow comes from. This is a picture of a house boat, which is what we stayed on for a day and a half:

Mmmm...prawns:

Here's Kiera inspecting a piece of coir (coconut husk which gets spun into "fabric" for rugs):

Kerala was a lot of fun, especially since we got to go with the Stoker family. We didn't get to eat turkey on Thanksgiving day, but I think the amazing seafood we had made up for it.

Way Down South...

I realize that my last post was a little deep, and long, so I thought I would treat everybody to some pictures of our Thanksgiving trip down to Kerala, which is a southern state in India. We had a lot of fun looking for tigers and watching dancers and Kerala ninjas. Enjoy!

Inspiring Minds

I was inspired. I was inspired to start this blog by my oldest sister, Chelsey, who diligently writes in her blog (cheltzey.blogpot.com if anyone wants to go look, which I strongly advise). I was further inspired by one of my best friends, Maddie Stoker, who has just started her own blog. So here I am, ready to give blogging a try.

Now, I should have started this blog two years ago, when I moved to this insane country called India, but I'm a top procrastinator. This is my attempt to rectify a big mistake because I have not recorded a lot of the incredible happenings that I have lived through on a daily basis.
India is just crazy. Period. There are a lot of things that drive me absolutely crazy, such as:

• When people say they are coming at one time, but then don't come for another four hours or just don't come at all.
• When traffic is completely stopped by one cow in the middle of the road.
• When a traffic light breaks, and every car moves into the intersection at one time because each driver feels that he is the only one who is allowed to go through the intersection. Then the intersection becomes one huge mess.
• When people completely disregard what you are saying.
• Or when people say they understand what you're saying when they really don't.

However, there are some features that make living in India worth it. We are surrounded by a totally new culture, and sometimes it's just amazing to learn about the way these people think. The school I attend is really good. I have a driver and I got a phone (which I wasn't going to get until I went off to college). And I've met some of the coolest people while I've lived here in Delhi.

India is a country of extremes. You can drive down the road to the Oberoi hotel, one of the best hotels in Delhi, and be accosted by ten, maybe fifteen, beggars at your car window. Just last weekend, Mumbai was rocked by a terrorist attack which killed or injured hundreds, and yet my family and I were with our great friends, the Stoker family, in the beautifully lush state of Kerala.

I may not understand why the things that happen in this country actually happen, simply because their culture is so foreign to ours, but I'm going to endevour to enjoy every single day of the six months that I have left in this country because, really, that's all I can do.