Wait, I'm interning WHERE?

Part of the India Studies Program is doing an internship or field experience.  Early this semester, we all waited with bated breath to see where we would be placed.  Everyone's internship sounded perfect for them and like a great place for learning.  I waited.  I didn't know where I would be placed - I had mentioned writing and editing in my 'internship interest' form, but I had no idea what would come of it. 

"You'll be interning at The Hindu," the professor told me.  I gaped. 

See, The Hindu is India's largest English-language newspaper.  It's been around since 1878.  For crying out loud, I read The Hindu as part of my attempt to familiarize myself with Indian current events!  And I was going to be interning there!  I was totally agog.  It was kind of hilarious, because my professor and internship guide kept asking if I was okay with it, if I was happy to go, and I had to say, "No, it's great, I'm over-the-moon excited about it, I just can't believe I'm actually interning at The Hindu.  LIKE WHAAAAAAAAAT???"  . . . well, you get the drift. Anyway, it wasn't all smooth from there - there were some hiccups in getting the internship off the ground.  The Hindu had a different format for internships that what the program had planned, so it took a little bit before we got it started - but start I did!  I came back after homestay to hear that they wanted me to start the next day.  Mindblowing. 

It's been feast-or-famine here - since it's a newspaper, they either have a lot to do or almost nothing, depending on what's coming in and how far along they are on the day's issue.  (Also, since I don't know Tamil, it can be hard to find things for me to do, as news comes into the office in Tamil and is then written as an English article.)  I've gone over to one of the entertainment sections, Metro Plus, often since they have things for me to observe and do.  There, they do something similar to what I do with the Writing Center newsletter, so it's been cool to see how they format things and work with everything.  I'm hoping I can use this experience to better my writing, editing, and formatting of the Writing Center newsletter. 

Far and away the coolest thing that's happened during my internship was writing an article for the Metro Plus, watching it go through the process of editing and formatting . . . and having it published the following day!  I heard responses from people in the program, but other people from commented on it, too - it's just so cool to know that something I wrote was published, and that a lot of people read it.  It was such a fabulous thing to see and be a part of, and such a great learning moment. 

Internship at The Hindu has been interesting, to say the least.  Sometimes it's been stressful, and sometimes it's been boring - and sometimes it's been so packed with amazing things and learning experiences that I need a day to just sit back and process everything.  A bit like my overall experience in India, actually.  I feel so lucky that I was privileged enough to be placed here - what a crazy, wonderful, thing. 

My article, published in the weekend edition of The Hindu's Metro Plus!

A New World: Flora and Fauna

India has held many new things and new experiences.  Today, I thought I'd describe some of the new things I'm seeing in nature! 

First of all, the plants.  There are so many different plants here: palm trees, banana trees, cacti, banyan trees . . .  Many of the plants are tropical ones, with flat waxy leaves that look almost plasticine, especially when wet.  Some are spiky, some are soft, but they all have a very different, sleek look to them.  There are plants of all colors - this morning, I noticed a kind of creeping plant that was a dark, rich purple color.  The flowers on the trees range from canary yellow to passion-fruit orange to bright fuchsia.  Some are duller pinks and blues, some are white, but all of them stand out. 

In India, even the bugs are colorful.  Yesterday, I observed a centipede crawling - it reminded me of a powerstrip, with bright orange legs and a black body with an orange strip running down it.  On my homestay, we saw a butterfly with black wings and a bright red body - we're talking fire-engine, acrylic red here.  So bright.  The Japanese beetles (while huge) are metallic emerald and copper hues.  Butterflies are orange, yellow, white, black, nearly every color you can imagine . . .

On homestay, we saw a kingfisher.  They are a bright turquoise, as if someone had taken a paintbrush and just streaked them with it.  Unreal, the way the butterfly was bright red.  Almost too pure a color to be plausible.  It was gorgeous to see it fly.  And, of course, I was able to see a peacock at the zoo and it was stunning, with its tail spread and feathers on full display.  Crows here are interesting, too, as they have a band of color at their throats, sometimes a dull gray and sometimes a mousy brown; the rest of them is oil-slick black, but they have just a patch of a different color.  Pigeons are kind of the same everywhere, but the ones here often range from dark gray to a fine pale silver, with marbled green-gray-white feathers around their beady black eyes.  They like to flutter around our balcony and windows. 

But my favorite moment of observing the huge differences between nature home and nature here happened last night around 6:30, at dusk . . . when the bats came out.  I had visited the small zoo here and seen hundreds of them sleeping in the trees, and I'd been hoping to see it for a while, so it was very exciting that I finally got to see them come out last night.  They flooded the sky, and if you didn't know better you could mistake them for a flock of crows or starlings.  Within a half hour, they had dissipated, but for that half hour they were swooping all over the sky, flapping by overhead.  Incomparable and incredible.  There was a full moon, too, and seeing the bats sweep over the moon against the steely blue dusk was magnificent.  I couldn't take my eyes off them. 

There's other things, too - like the cow we ran into one night, just hanging out down a side street, or the goats and small dogs that roam the streets - but these are the little, everyday moments of beauty that pop out every so often and remind me that this is India, and it's a whole other world from what I see at home. 

P.S. Sorry I don't have pictures.  I can't always capture these things, so you'll have to make do with my description until I see if I have anything to put up. 

Gratitude Without Guilt

First of all, let me apologize for the very late post - I was without Internet access through the weekend and into Monday, and the Internet in our apartment is spotty right now (as in it honestly takes at least 5 minutes to load a plain-text page - forget about anything with pictures or backgrounds!).  There are so many things I could blog about from last week: classes starting, the ongoing internship saga, hostel night -- but what I want to talk about the most is my home-stay last weekend with my peer mentor, Karuna.  

There are so many things I could say when talking about my home-stay (so, so many things), but I want to focus on one thing in particular.  There is a saying here: “The guest is like God.”  Nowhere was this more evident to me than in my home-stay.  Karuna took me and another student, Faith, home with her for the weekend.  Upon arriving at her house, her mother welcomed us with a traditional Tamil welcome ceremony.  From that moment on, Karuna and her family were hospitable to the point of embarrassment (at least, on my part).  

We never went hungry.  We sat at a small table set for two, and Karuna’s mother served us the wonderful food she had prepared.  She would keep coming back, asking if we wanted more, if the food was good, if we wanted something else, or what she could make if we didn’t like it.  (It was all delicious.)  The first day, everything, including the snack she brought in on a plate, was served on a banana leaf - this is something done for special occasions in Tamil Nadu.  Karuna and her mother would serve us tea or coffee in the afternoons, always asking if the ratios of milk and sugar was all right and, of course, if we liked it.  

They were always turning on the fan for us, telling us to take the only chairs and sitting on the floor instead, making sure we had enough to eat, getting us water, finding snacks for us, seeing if we were comfortable - basically, trying to please us in every way possible.  And every morning, Karuna’s mother gave us fresh flowers to put in our hair, sometimes ones she’d picked and strung together just for us.  

From Left: Karuna, Me, Kanya, and Faith 

One other amazing thing about the weekend that I have to mention is that we took an auto up the mountain to be shown the banana plantation Karuna’s family owns - 40 acres of banana plants.  I can’t even describe the beauty of the trees and the mountains.  We could see the clouds shrouding the mountaintops.  The banana trees were stunning.  There’s nothing to compare it to in the States, no way to compare the wide, slick green leaves of the trees, or the way the different types of bananas grow upside-down, or the height of the trunks, or their orderly rows.  There were banana trees as far as the eye could see, surrounded by  water.  It was incredible.  

We did a lot of other things.  Karuna, her mother, and Karuna’s cousin Kanya pulled out all the family photo albums for us.  Her mother didn’t speak much English, but we went through every single album with the three of them, hearing about where each photo was taken and who was in it.  It was a bit overwhelming, but it was clear that by doing that, they wanted to not only show us their family but make us a part of it.  Kanya was over at the house every day, spending time with us; we played cards and games and got to meet her family that weekend, too.  In addition, Karuna’s father came back home from Chennai to meet us - Chennai.  It had to have been at least a 7-8 hour journey for him, but he came.  He came so that he could welcome us to his home and to his family.  

At the end of our stay, when we were already so humbled by our time there, they bought us saris.  Let me repeat: they bought us saris.  I was blown away.  When Karuna’s father told us he would be buying us saris, I couldn’t believe it.  So we spent our last afternoon at Karuna’s house looking at saris (and of course, they asked repeatedly if we were happy with the fabric, if it was okay, and telling us if we didn’t like it, we could exchange it, no problem). I honestly don’t know how to emphasize the enormity of the hospitality we experienced, but the sari purchase was only one example of the so, so very many ways they welcomed us into their home and their family.  

They sent us home well-fed, with half a papaya and other fruits, with new saris, with a lot of amazing pictures of everywhere we stayed, and most importantly, with a new and personal understanding of the incredible hospitality extended to guests.  It was a fascinating, beautiful, grace-filled, humbling, indescribable weekend.  I only wish I could have described it better.  

Me with Karuna's Family!  From Left: Me, Faith, Karuna's Father, Karuna, Karuna's Mother

Is That It?

It's hard to believe that it's only been six days.

Six days since I arrived in India!  They've been so long and so much has happened and been thrown at me that it feels like much, much longer.  The time difference is a bit odd and has taken a while to get used to (I hope I'm over jet lag?), because it's 9 1/2 hours.  It's just long enough to throw off the day but not long enough to be a complete reversal.  

So: in the time since I last wrote, we've had multiple days of orientation at BACAS, information about our internships and field experience, our first shopping trip, our trip to get our "uniform," i.e. traditional clothing, and our first day of classes!  

The memorable moments: meeting our peer mentors, who are BACAS students assigned to us to help guide us in the culture and help us with whatever we need.  Mine, Karuna, is absolutely wonderful and I love her already.  I was excited to find out about my internship - hopefully, I'll be interning at The Hindu, i.e. the largest English-language newspaper in India!  Also, shopping for salwar kameez was a blast.  The clothes are great.  Attending church was neat, and obviously our classes are really interesting.  Oh, and produce - I bought fresh produce for super cheap here, so that was pretty exciting.  

I hope to post every Monday - a bit ambitious, maybe, but we'll see if I manage it.  Ta for now!

ISP Batch 5!  As you can see, we've started settling in (with our new clothing!).

Here at Last!

Greetings from Coimbatore!

It still does not feel entirely real that I am here.  But I'm not the only student who's saying that, so I don't feel too bad.  Besides, the past two days were spent in an unholy limbo of check-in, security, waiting for arrival, boarding, flight, layover, departure, luggage check, et cetera.  I'm not sure whether it felt incredibly long or whether any time had passed at all.  The flight details have blurred into one long montage of meandering around airports and going through security.  But I suppose it hardly matters . . .

. . . now that I've made it to India!  Our flight (the last of four) landed at 9:30am local time - although we'd made it to Mumbai at 12:35am local time and had a soul-sucking layover.  Throughout my journey, I was incredibly grateful that I was traveling with two other students from the India Studies Program.  I only expected to be traveling with Emma, but we ran into Faith while waiting to board the first flight.  Without the two of them, I would have felt very lost; it was a relief to navigate through airports, security, and customs with two other people by my side.

By the way, you can (and should!) follow Emma's blog here because she is a seriously awesome human being and she rocks my socks.

BUT!  The group rendezvoused in the Mumbai airport and we made our flight to Coimbatore with relatively little difficulty.  Although we were all pretty exhausted from our flights, we met the Director of the program, Kirk, his wife, and their two sons.  We had our first taste of Indian food (in India!  I just can't get over it) in a little café and were able to meet our peer mentors.  Part of this program is having a peer student from the college be paired with everyone in the program as a friend and resource to navigating Indian culture.

We then went to our apartments, spent the afternoon unpacking and walking around Coimbatore and taking care of some necessary paperwork.  We didn't do too much - our brains were all fried - but we found some stores, hung out with our peer mentors, got a tour of Bishop Appasamy College of Arts and Science (BACAS, for short), and finally went out to dinner with all students, peer mentors, and the Director's family.

These next few days are going to be a bit rough - we start at BACAS tomorrow, and there's a lot to do and get used to in a very short period of time.   It's a bit late here and I'm still jet-lagged, so I'm going to sign off right now.  But, as an example of the love and acceptance I felt waiting for me, let me show you the picture Kirk's son drew for me.  (Sorry about the light.)

A rose from the program and its students!

A letter from Kirk's sons.

I'll do my best to write again soon.  Wish me luck!

The Great Ordeal

or, Interludes From Gretchen’s Long and Arduous Quest For Her Visa. 

(This'll be a long one, folks.)

SO, first of all, let me reassure everyone who has been asking that YES, AS OF TODAY, I HAVE RECEIVED MY VISA!  With 36 hours to spare.  Yikes.  I received it on the last possible day that I could have gotten it, after a long and (somewhat) stressful journey.  The FedEx lady was not only very nice, but heartwarmed by my note of gratitude and interested in my trip.  I wanted to wait until the whole blasted thing was over until I posted about it, one way or the other . . . but then I decided that rather than record the whole sordid tale, I would pick out some of the amusing anecdotes and detail them. 

. . . . 

i.)  A great disappointment and a great praise

On our Monday visit, my father and I - along with twenty-some other people - were turned away at the door of the agency.  The security guards were two huge men who did their jobs well without being rude.  On Monday, when I wrote my previous post about being at peace about whatever happened, as I honestly didn’t think I would get it.  

But for my praise!  Because we were turned away on Monday, on Thursday my father drove me up to NYC . . . and through the city.  Let me repeat.  He drove.  Through New York City.  In our minivan.  Applaud him, y’all.  He deserves it.  

ii.)  in which my parents and me attempt to research the consulate

“All right,” the intrepid explorers say, soldiering on.  “Let’s check out the consulate website!”  Websites are Googled.  Addresses are found.  The brave three click on the link for the New York consulate.  

FORBIDDEN, is the first word to greet their eyes, followed by: “you are not allowed to access this page on the server you are using.”  There is a moment of blank shock from the explorers.  Forbidden?  Yes, friends, the word on the screen was indeed ‘forbidden,’ as if this web page was not in fact the website for a consulate but was instead a crime scene, a nuclear weapon, or an apple in the Garden of Eden.  

The backspace key is pressed.  Another link is tried.  “FORBIDDEN!” booms this page as well.  We attempt the next.  The ominous prohibition is nowhere to be found . . . and neither is the page, from what the screen is telling us.  (None of the links worked, but the consulate reviews were hilarious.)

iii.)  calling the consulate

The pre-recorded message for the Indian Consulate of New York was recorded by a man with the thickest New York accent I have ever heard.  It was quite disorienting, as I was expecting an Indian one.  

iv.) the magical post-it

My dear friend Emma, one of my traveling companions (and the other one from my school), went down to NYC the day after I did.  She found out that the agency was no longer accepting walk-ins.  But (unlike me, when I went the following day) she was given what I deemed the “Magical Post-It of Access,” which got her past the security guards and up the stairs to the magical place of application (see the theme here?) to submit her application.  When I came up on Thursday, the Magical Post-It was shared with great joy.  

v.)  The Crazy Lady (and I do mean THE crazy lady)

When going to NYC, I was told to not be a “pushy American.”  I didn’t know what that looked like until Thursday, when another applicant threw a tantrum.  Literally.  She started yelling at the security guard, then screaming at him, then finally began sobbing hysterically until they finally let her up the stairs.  Once upstairs, she calmed down (she even mentioned to me that she started crying so they would let her upstairs).  It was appalling!  I couldn’t believe that someone would actually do that.    

The worst part was that she flew out on September 15 - and she had an upcoming appointment with the agency.  Emma and I both flew out on Monday - we were visiting Thursday, but we only had two business days to get our visas!  There was also another student there who was flying out over the weekend.  And all three of us students - leaving out in 48 hours or less, mind you, and still without visas - were calmer and more mature than this woman who had over a week before she left, and a scheduled appointment.  

vi.)  Nilesh the Wonderful

But, lest you think that all was misery . . . when we finally got into the agency on Thursday, we were helped by a very nice gentleman named Nilesh.  He found my application - which hadn’t been processed - and was able to figure out what was wrong with it.  (It turns out that they thought I was the pastor, thus the required additional documentation.)  He then was able to submit it for emergency processing under a new number.  When we made it clear to him that we needed it processed within the next day, he gave me options for how to pick it up once it was done.  He did mention that once the consulate had it, it was out of his hands, but he would make sure it was listed as an emergency visa so it would be expedited.  

He gave me his name and his cell phone number, telling me that I could call him the next day to ask if he’d gotten it back from the consulate.  His personal cell phone number, not the work phone number, mind you.  When we were concerned about how to get it (we didn’t want to go up to NYC a third time), he actually offered to bring the visa back to his house in Pennsylvania so that we could drive there and pick it up from his house.  We decided on a FedEx envelope . . . and on Friday, he texted me not one, but TWO times to let me know that A.) it had been received, and B.) it had been shipped.  

I did not expect to get my visa in time.  But with Nilesh’s help, I did.  

"Three Little Birds Sat on My Window..."

". . . and they told me I don't need to worry."  These lyrics are from Corinne Bailey Rae's song "Put Your Records On," and right now, they are describing how I am feeling about this whole visa situation (sans the birds literally appearing, because that would be weird).

The short version is that this whole attempt to get my visa has been a serious endeavor which has confirmed that I detest paperwork, resulted in many phone calls, spawned a ridiculous amount of emails, and generally created far too much stress in my life.  What it comes down to is that I now have seven days until I am scheduled to leave this country and I STILL do not have a student visa in my possession.

But it's all right.

No, really, it is - for once, I'm not being sarcastic.  See, here's what I've learned about myself: I do a lot of things and try to get a lot of things done.  And often, things don't quite go as planned (or they do, and it's still a lot!) and I end up getting more and more stressed and tense and snippy until tick-tick-BOOM!  Except there's no boom.  It's actually more of an implosion where I go from feeling insanely stressed to feeling complete and total apathy.  Things will be fine.  They'll work out, or they won't, and either way it'll be fine.  I have passed the point of caring.  Que sera, sera, to throw another song at you.

The only problem is that this state of mind often tends to hit before a lot of things are due, which gives me no motivation whatsoever to accomplish said things . . . eh.  The point is, folks, that this is how I'm feeling right now - my visa will come on time, or it won't.  We'll have to cancel and hopefully rebook my flight, or we won't.  We'll have to spend even more money than we already have to get this resolved, or we won't.

I'll go to India this fall . . . or I won't.

And it will be fine either way.  It truly, truly will.  As someone told me as I was talking about the whole saga, "If you're going to pray, don't worry.  And if you're going to worry, don't pray."  So right now, I'm just going to cooperate with my brain (already trying to tell me that all this worry isn't worth it), and really trust that the things that should happen will happen - and that whether I go or not, things will be good.  Or, to use the words of Julian of Norwich: "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well."

And you know what?  They will be.  They really will.