Let It Go

So I'm close to month 3 of unemployment and I have to say, it isn't quite what I expected. I thought I would have a nice break after coming home before quickly moving on to the next stage of my life; turns out that this limbo period is becoming a stage in itself. It feels like I've lost my internal compass and am no longer sure which direction to move forward. What now?

Up until now I have had set goals - high school, college, graduate school - but now that I'm done with the standard educational path and am free to do whatever I want (in theory) I feel paralyzed by choice. My days are a rollercoaster which alternate between highs of inspiration and depressing lows. I have always set high standards for myself and worked hard to achieve my goals, but now that my targets are undefined I am terrified of not living up to my own expectations.

So I did what I always do when I feel I need to get back on track - I made a list of things I want to do. After jotting down all the exotic places I want to go and adrenaline rushing activities I want to do, I felt excited for a moment before a second wave of disappointment hit - I did not have the means to go after any of these activities at the moment. So I went about making a more modest list of ways to improve my happiness - small things I could start to do today. I wrote down: write more, learn to cook well, work on my Italian, and then a set of 3 little words I did not expect to see until they were already written - Let it go.

A year ago I had a big fight with one of my best friends at the time and we haven't spoken since. It is something that I never quite got over. The funny thing is I thought I was over it - I remember the exact moment in India when I told myself I was done being upset by it. But I found forgiving someone while in a lovely exotic setting is not equal to forgiving someone while back home and having to face it. Turns out I wasn't the bigger person after all.

I know I need to let it go. I need to get over it, and not in a way where I push it to the back of my mind and busy myself with distractions, but to a point where I can objectively look back and not feel anger. I was holding on to this negative feeling with a clenched fist, and it was hurting me more than anyone.

So I chose to get over it. There is a quote I really like that helped:

"When you hold resentment to another you are bound to that person or condition by an emotional link that is stronger than steel. Forgiveness is the only way to dissolve that link and get free." -- Catherine Ponder

Let it go. Let it go. Let it go.

Of course choosing to let something go is just the first step. Although I may not welcome her back with open arms just yet, I could do something small for now, like wish her a happy birthday.

Baby steps.

Me, Myself, and I is for India

"I get by with a little help from my friends." -The Beatles

Its been over a month since my last entry. In the last few weeks of my time in India I felt myself not being able to keep up with all that was happening within me and around me. Instead of beating myself up over it, I recognized the fact and went on living my life, enjoying myself in the present and telling myself I would take time to reflect on it in hindsight.

I arrived home in NY two weeks ago. Its amazing how quickly I've adjusted to being back home, but in a way I still feel detached from my immediate surroundings. India already seems hazy and blurry in the distance, though I find myself thinking of it at the most random times. Its impossible for me to summarize the last few weeks of my time in India in a coherent way, so I won't really try to do it justice. Most of my previous entries have focused on weekend trips I've taken, but now I really would prefer to talk about the days in between, when I wasn't swimming under waterfalls or climbing up mountaintops with incredible views. The unremarkable days.

The first day I arrived I panicked after stepping foot outside. I did not know what I had gotten myself into. After a few weeks I settled into the rhythms of my new surroundings but was secretly counting the days until I got back home. It wasn't until a few weeks into my stay that things - mainly my attitude - changed. I got off my butt and made some friends, and things really turned around from that point on.

Someone once asked me what I love the most about traveling, especially traveling alone, and my reply was simple - meeting new people. "But isn't it superficial?" They replied. "You don't get to know them for that long anyway, how good of a friend can you make?"

I thought about this, and I couldn't disagree more. I've found that the length of time I know someone doesn't necessarily constitute a better relationship. In my life I've discovered that most of the time, within the first few hours of meeting someone, I know if we are going to be great friends. If I spend two years sitting down the hall from someone I just say hi to when we pass each other, a few more years isn't going to change that relationship for me.

I've often become better friends with people I've known for only a few months than with those I've known for years, especially during my travels. Whether it be a great MIT roommate who I spent only a few months with but ended up being one of my most cherished friends, or my refreshingly honest German friends who I think of often, or my dear Italian friends who pull at my heart like distant family - great friends can take many forms. Friendship is something to be taken seriously, and I never found that to be more true than in India. When I injured my arm I had friends take turns taking me to the seemingly never ending hospital visits without batting an eye about the inconvenience. We then spent many days taking in great views on wonderful trips, or just helping each other get through not so great work days with shopping, dinner outings, movie nights, and many many tea breaks. These friends are what made my trip great.

This summer has been a wonderful experience for me, but don't get me wrong, I did struggle. I don't want to sugarcoat this. It is hard to leave your home and be dropped off halfway around the world and have to manage. It is hard to not speak the language and feel dependent on others if you pride yourself on being independent. It is hard to get into arguments and cultural clashes with friends who basically constitute your family abroad. It is a struggle to put a smile on your face on those days where you are mentally and emotionally spent and just want to stay in bed. And I'm not going to say that the beautiful trips and sights made all the struggle worth it (although they did). The struggle itself was worth it. Being taken out of your comfort zone and finding a way to make it work, and even more importantly, to come to enjoy and embrace your surroundings, is worth it. I feel like my character was often stretched this way and that during this trip, but all this stretching made me less rigid and more flexible to people, ideas, and situations in the future. And for that I am grateful.

It is always sad to leave new friends, especially when you feel that you've been through a lot with them. Its especially hard because often after you leave life gets in the way (of no fault of one's own) and contact can become less and less frequent. The people I have become friends with have left an imprint on my heart, and although I may not physically be with them I hope they know that I think of them often. I feel blessed to know that I have touched and entangled my life with people and friends around the world, as they have touched me. Even if just for a brief moment. And that's enough for me.

So to all my friends - thank you.

Crazy for Coorg! (Part 3, aka Sacred River Rafting)

The last day in Coorg began with some white water rafting!

(Disclaimer: I clearly could not bring a camera on a rafting trip, so instead used well chosen photos from the internet to illustrate my point :-) )

We drove about an hour to get to the site, and suited up in style before heading out. We were told it wouldn't be a very intense rafting experience, really meant for beginners, but I was a beginner so I didn't mind. I also found out later that the river we were on was in fact the Kaveri - the same sacred river whose birthplace we had visited the day before in Talakaveri. I felt a bit strange about rafting on a sacred river, but who I am to judge.

Before heading out I decided to change into the pajamas I had worn the night before in case we got wet, since I only had one decent set of clothing left after the waterfall incident. There were 6 of us, and a guide who was African but grew up in India. We started out by learning the basic commands (forward, back, get down!) and then headed on our way.

Our guide was entertaining, with a strange sense of humor where you couldn't tell if he was joking or not. That coupled with an extremely mischievous smile made for an interesting trip. He kept joking about all of us "going for a swim" in the river, which created some pretty alarmed looks from my Indian friends who couldn't swim. Our guide didn't seem above just throwing us into the water one by one, but we managed to hold him off. He ended up jumping off the raft himself and going for a swim while we were in the calm parts of the river.

There were four rapids that we went through while rowing down the river, and it was so much fun! Water splashed over the sides as we made our way through the rush of current and I was sooo glad I had changed my clothes.

Even more enjoyable than the rapids were the calm portions in between, where we would slowly float through the green river, dark and silent, under trees that seemed to respectfully bow at us from the riverbanks. We made a detour through a small channel, and I looked up at bamboo trees which bent from both sides of the bank and met in the middle, hugging in the center as the sun forged through the cracks and celebrated their union. Water striders skimmed the surface of the river as they kept pace with our raft, and the insects of the trees calmly called to us from the greenery. No one spoke. I imagined what it would be like to live in a small cottage on the banks.

We made our way out of the channel back to the main river, and prepared for the last rapid. It was bigger than the rest and thrilling to go through, and after we went through, our guide managed to manuever our raft back toward the rapid behind a large rock. The boulder acted as a type of catapult for the water, and we all were soaked from head to toe in the makeshift waterfall. We changed positions within the raft and I made my way to the front and let the water rush over me. I had been worried about swimming in the river since it did have a greenish hue, but since it was sacred I stopped being paranoid and hoped the gods would protect me from flesh eating bacteria.

After changing into my last set of dry clothes, we headed out to our last stop - a Tibetan monastery located in Bylekuppe, the second largest Tibetan settlement outside of Tibet. The monastery is home to 7,000 monks.

The inside was even more impressive, housing three large gold plated Buddhas about 60 ft tall.

I sat cross-legged on the cool marble floor, and let my eyes focus on the myriad of colors on the beautiful wall, calm and content with the satisfaction of an unforgettable trip.

Quote of the Day

There is not one big cosmic meaning for all, there is only the meaning we each give to our life, an individual meaning, an individual plot, like an individual novel, a book for each person. -Anais Nin

Crazy for Coorg! (Part 2)

After the waterfall we drove toward our next destination - Talakaveri.

Talakaveri is considered the birthplace of the Kaveri river, one of the seven sacred rivers of India, and is located in the Brahmagiri hills in Coorg at an altitude of about 4500 ft. (Side note, one of my friends who came along is named Kaveri, and she is named after this river).

There was a young Brahmin in white clothes with colorful markings on his forehead and arms. We stood there and watched him perform prayers and chant over the exact spot of water that marked the origin of the river. The chanting (in Sanskrit) was monotone and went on for a while, and simultaneously he was pouring holy water and some type of red powder into the water. I stood there respectfully as everyone put their hands together and closed their eyes. "Pray for what you want," Kaveri whispered to me, "it works." So I did.

When he finished the chanting he gave us a spoonful of holy water and marked our foreheads with red powder. We then began the climb up the 500 steps to the Brahmagri peak. On the climb up I could see why this place is nicknamed "The Scotland of India." Rolling green hills surrounded us as far as the eye could see, and we were immersed in a white mist that danced around us. It felt like we were climbing a stairway to heaven.

Once we reached the peak there were no words to describe the view that awaited us. If there was ever a place that seemed fitting to worship the gods, this would be it. We were above the clouds, in the clouds. At one point a cloud passed right through us, and we could see nothing but white mist and foggy shades of one another. Exhilaration burst through me as I raised my hands to the sky.

We were in the heavens.

Crazy for Coorg! (Part 1)

The most recent weekend trip I took was to Coorg, also known as the "Scotland of India." Coorg or Kodagu literally means "dense forest on steep hill" and is about 5000 feet above sea level.

What has become my traveling group [me, 3 coworkers (Kaveri, Ajay, Murali), 2 MIT interns (Richard, Sean)] booked a car/driver for the weekend and made the 6 hour drive to Madikeri, the district headquarters of Coorg. The drive over was beautiful - acres of lush forests, misty hills, and coffee and tea plantations.

First destination - drive through Nagahole National Park, where our car was slowed down by an elephant on the side of the road.

We had planned on going on safari through the park, but weather and time didn't permit, so we moved onto the next stop - Iruppu Falls. We had to do some hiking to get to the waterfall, but it was beautiful, set amid thick green forest and mossy boulders.

We stood there for a few minutes, admiring the power of the water as it crashed below. A few people were under the waterfall, holding on to a steel beam that had been put into place for that reason I assume. I immediately regretted not bringing a bathing suit. Richard had brought shorts, so he changed into them and joined the few others under the water. One by one the guys in our group decided to follow. Kaveri and I had a real dilemma! We had no bathing suit, and for women swimming in just your undergarments in India is a big no-no to say the least. We sat on the moist rocks, but as I watched the others I couldn't take it anymore - "I'm going in!"

Those of you who know me well know that I'm not exactly the type of person who swims under waterfalls fully clothed, but I feel like my trip here has been marked by things I wouldn't normally do, and the words came out of my mouth before I even thought about them. I looked at Kaveri "I'm going in, you comin?" She smiled and her eyes lit up - "Let's do it."

We crossed the slippery rocks and slowly let ourselves into the water (so cold!). We waded over to the falls to join the others, and I kept my balance by gripping the steel beam.

What a feeling! The pressure of the water was so heavy against my head and shoulders, and it felt like each rush pounded more and more of my thoughts outside of my body until I was left with nothing but this feeling. I had to remind myself to breathe, since the wind was continuously getting knocked out of me. I gripped the beam tighter, closed my eyes, and let the water wash everything away.

After changing into some spare clothes, I let my hair out and let it dry in the wind as we drove off. We sang our favorite songs as we headed toward our next destination. Great music, new friends, beautiful scenery...what more do you need?

If I Had My Life to Live Over

I'd dare to make more mistakes next time.
I'd relax. I would limber up.
I would be sillier than I have been this trip.
I would take fewer things seriously.
I would take more chances.
I would take more trips.
I would climb more mountains and swim more rivers.
I would eat more ice cream and less beans.

I would perhaps have more actual troubles but I'd
have fewer imaginary ones.

You see, I'm one of those people who live sensibly
and sanely hour after hour, day after day.

Oh, I've had my moments and if I had it to do over
again, I'd have more of them. In fact,
I'd try to have nothing else. Just moments.

One after another, instead of living so many
years ahead of each day.

I've been one of those people who never go anywhere
without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a raincoat
and a parachute.

If I had my life to live over, I would start barefoot
earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall.

If I had it to do again, I would travel lighter next time.
I would go to more dances.
I would ride more merry-go-rounds.
I would pick more daisies.

By Nadine Stair (age 85)
from Condensed Chicken Soup for the Soul
Copyright 1996 by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen & Patty Hansen

Homesick

It's been a tough week.

Hooray for Hampi!

Last weekend I took a trip to Hampi.

After seven hours on a questionably clean overnight sleeper bus we arrived at this World Heritage site, once the center of the largest Hindu empire in South India. Wars with neighboring powers left the city plundered, deserted, and in ruins. I loved Hampi as soon as I saw it. Everywhere we turned there were huge boulders and hills and historical ruins. It felt like you could walk forever and explore and lose yourself in history.

After making our way around the main temple and Bazaar area we moved toward the hills and started climbing. We saw a distant temple atop a huge hill and decided to go for it. The climb was tough, the steps and rocks were steep and we had to take many breaks on the way up. Some parts of the trail were narrow and tree branches slapped my arms as I pushed myself through the brush while I shooed away buzzing insects. I strained my legs over the last few rocks and was relieved to see what remained of a doorway - the doorway to the temple. Inside was dark, empty, and deserted, but the cool interior was a welcome respite from the heat. We walked toward a circle of sunlight that rested on the other side of the room and I ran up the last few steps of the temple and came out onto the hilltop.

The wind was so strong it felt like it could blow us straight over the side, and it thundered in our ears as if in applause of our accomplishment. I just stood there, inhaling deep breaths of air, hands on my head, and looked out at the city below. I stood there, and I felt. I felt strong, and in awe of the world around me. We sat down and enjoyed the view as half a dozen monkeys watched us with curious eyes. We nicknamed our spot the "monkey temple."

After a day of trekking and hiking, we were exhausted and headed back to the guesthouse. One of the MIT guys had the idea of going up to that same "monkey temple" early the next morning to watch the sunrise. Not many of the others were up for the idea, but I was down. Hell, you're only in India once.

The next morning I set off with two other interns at 5am. We walked down the main road to the base of the hill, and along the way I saw whole families sleeping on mats on the side of the road. This was hard, I couldn't believe how many people there were. I counted my blessings and continued on.

As we began our initial trek, one intern lagged behind on some steps and we soon realized he had been stung by something and was not feeling well. He ended up abandoning the trek and going back to the guesthouse to rest, and I started feeling nervous and regretted my decision to be adventurous. It was still dark out, and we could barely see around us, but the last intern and I just doused ourselves in more bug spray before continuing on.

I had a tiny key chain light that was useful (thank you MIT career fair), and it allowed us to make sure we weren't stepping in any type of cow crap as well as helped us avoid the HUGE millipedes crawling about (longer than my hand, thicker than a finger). Since we had lost some time, we worried about not making it to the top of the hill in time, so we sped up the pace. The path had been okay in the daylight, but it was much worse in the dark. The steps were narrow and steep, and sometimes we had to make our way across large rocks (and you just had to hope you wouldn't fall and tumble over the edge). I was exhausted and out of breath, heart pounding, soaked in sweat, but I somehow kept on. I should mention that my climbing buddy regularly runs 10 miles a day, so I think pride helped that morning. Its amazing what you are capable of when you are expected to do better than your best. And then at last we arrived.

The reception this time was not forceful and aggressive, but calm, as if we had just awoken the city from a deep slumber and it sleepily welcomed us. The air was clean, and I took large gulps of it as the wind gently cooled the sweat and calmed my breath. The sky was a light gray, quiet. The clouds hid most of the sun but just enough rays shyly peeked out to give the sky a subtle glow. My new friend and I exchanged few words as we sat overlooking the city.

"So India huh?"

"Yep...India."

Some insects quietly buzzed about but for the first time they did not bother me - maybe I finally understood their song.

Be Back Soon

I won't be able to write for the next few days, but will post again as soon as I can.

Thanks for your patience :-)

One Small Step

I took the bus home from work today BY MYSELF. And I didn't get lost. (Although I came uncomfortably close to getting hit by a bus).

One small step for man, one giant leap for me :)

Lesson #3

Fast food in general - not a good idea.

Fast food from KFC in India - worst idea ever.

No work for me today.

My Oh Mysore

So my first weekend in India I took a day trip to the nearby city of Mysore.

After a three hour bus ride to get there, we hired a rickshaw for 200 rupees (about $4) to take us to all the sites and wait for us while we explored them. First stop was Chamundi hill, to visit a Hindu temple dedicated to the goddess Chamundi, known as the Chamundeshwari temple.

It was my first trip to a Hindu temple. There were three lines that you could wait on, the free line (no payment to enter, which was quite long), the 20 rupee line and the 100 rupee "express" line. We were pressed for time, so we took the 100 rupee line. After removing our shoes, and once we managed to push our way inside, we saw an idol of a goddess about 30 ft away that people were bowing their head to before being ushered outside again. We asked if we could get closer, since we had paid the most expensive ticket, and a security guard brought us to the closest part before the gate separating us from the idol. There a man in a white robe resembling a toga had a bowl filled with powder and incense. He put red powder on our forehead and then burned the incense/candle in front of us, so that we could wave the smoke toward ourselves to purify our surroundings. It was very relaxing.

On the way out, the security guard who had ushered us to the front asked us for a bribe. While we were still in the temple. Aaaah India.

The outside of the temple was even more interesting than the inside. Cows were relaxing lazily under the sun as passersby patted their heads and even hugged them. Monkeys ran across the pavement before sitting in the shade around the side of the temple. One cow was particularly sweet!

Next stop was a sandalwood factory, where they made small and large figurines and jewelry from sandalwood, which is pretty famous in southern India. Sandalwood has been valued and treasured for many years for its fragrance, carving, medical and religious qualities. After the factory, we had lunch in a traditional south Indian restaurant (which was delicious!) before heading over to the main attraction in Mysore - the palace. This was the official residence of the royal family of Mysore. The inside of the palace was beautiful, lined with traditional paintings and furniture, with intricate designs in the walls and ceilings.

Outside the palace, there was a man on an elephant that you could give a donation to before being "blessed" by the elephant. This, my friends, was by far the best part of the trip.

Once we had seen the palace, it was time to head back to Bangalore. On the bus ride home, I stuck my out the window as we passed small cities and towns on the way back, while warm and humid air whipped against my face and hair, and people on motorcycles outside honked and smiled. I felt such an exhilarating feeling up my spine - I felt alive.

Lesson #2

Never, I mean never, leave chocolate unattended in your bag while in India (or probably in general), no matter how clean you think the place is. An army of ants will descend upon it as soon as your back is turned, thus causing you to scream like a little girl as you wack your bag and try to reclaim it from the mass of critters. I don't think I will ever look at a Reeses Peanut Butter Cup the same.

Plus, Italy should be embarrassed with their performance today. At least USA made it through.

Riding along in a Rickshaw

So where was I?

I'll admit I had a bit of a breakdown after that first day. Everyone warned us about culture shock and I really did feel prepared coming over, but you really can't know until you get here. The combination of the noise, heat, terrible pollution, and the severe claustrophobia I experienced made me want to pack my bags and go straight home. The morning and evening commute alone are enough to drive a person nuts. Luckily the guesthouse and work tend to be calm within this massive chaos, so I've since recovered from my moment of weakness. Slightly.

In other news, on Wednesday I took a rickshaw for the first time!


So the process of finding a rickshaw (or rickshaw wallah to be more precise) who will actually take you where you want to go without a hassle is more difficult than you may imagine. We waited at the corner for a good 10 minutes trying to find one to take us to work. Now I don't mean to say that rickshaws just ignored us, on the contrary, at least 5 stopped. BUT once they heard where we were going (to the center of Bangalore during morning rush hour) they would just shake their heads and drive off. When one finally did say he would take us it was only because we agreed to pay him 20 extra rupees. I've since noticed that it is rare to take a rickshaw without ultimately yelling at the driver. Either he wants to overcharge you and not put on the meter, or even if he does he may mess with you and the meter will go way faster than it should. I love taking the rickshaw with my roommate though, she knows how to play the game. She obviously looks like a westerner so they always try to overcharge her, but she yells or walks away and bargains till she gets a good price.

Actually riding the rickshaw is quite an adventure though, its pretty exhilarating in fact. I have to keep a scarf over my mouth though because the fumes from other vehicles are too much to bear. I probably should be more worried about crashing and safety issues, but I'm really not. I think being a pedestrian is way more scary. Below is a link to a video I recorded when on a recent trip outside the city (which I'll write about later), but the rickshaw experience is quite similar.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y_pKiemjEak

Work is going well so far, I am expected to do quite a bit in my first week which is both good and bad. I'm still in a post-thesis slump where I don't want to do much of anything, but I guess it would be worse if I were bored. And the work has to do with researching solar technologies that could benefit India, so its pretty interesting. When I first saw my boss she walked right by me, which I took as a compliment since she didn't immediately recognize me as an obvious foreigner. She was pretty surprised when I finally introduced myself!

Everything has been ok in terms of food so far as well, the only complaint I have is that all the meals served to us at work and the guesthouse are vegetarian! Not to mention that lunch and dinner are pretty similar - rice with something spicy. Turns out that breakfast is often spicy as well, who knew. I've gotten used to having a constant burning sensation on my tongue. But I'm constantly hungry soon after I eat, I need some protein! My former roommate back in Boston would agree. On the plus side (ha....ha) maybe I'll lose a good ten pounds.

Busy Busy Bangalore

So Tuesday was my first real day outside of the guesthouse, and what a day it was.

Got up early to catch the bus with my roommate since I had no idea how to get to my job. Oh I wish it were as simple as just knowing what bus number to look for. First off, only some buses actually have numbers, the rest have text in Kannada (the local language of the state) so its almost impossible to recognize which one to go on. The only way to be sure, I discovered, is to ask the bus driver and if you're lucky he'll understand and wait for you to get on. The most interesting thing I noticed was that the bus separated men and women - women sit in the front and men in the back. Then a conductor goes up and down the bus asking for your destination and issuing you the ticket.

If only one bus could get me to work. I'm not that lucky.

We got off at the first stop and had to transfer to another bus. This involved running across two lanes of traffic during morning rush hour - I almost got hit by like 3 buses and 5 rickshaws - only to have to follow my roommate and run onto a moving bus! Yea. Apparently that doesn't only happen in movies.

Work was pretty uneventful the first day, my boss was out so I didn't have much to do but read some articles. After work, my roommate came with me to buy some Indian clothing. As modern as Bangalore may be in comparison to the rest of India, I still prefer to not stick out as a westerner. I bought some kurtas (pic below - basically a loose shirt that falls to just above the knee) and some loose pants (including red ones! I thought about orange with sequins, but I had to draw the line somewhere). The shopping also included me bargaining for the first time (I only got 100 rupees off, but hey its a start).As I was exiting one of the shops, I was stopped by an Indian security guard and asked to show the receipt for my purchases. Of course, my roommate had just passed him and he didn't ask her at all (I should also mention that she is blond and blue-eyed). Naturally I couldn't find it and was getting all flustered, and my roommate came back and yelled at him for making such a ridiculous request. He smiled (I guess he agreed) and we just walked away. Did I mention my roommate is badass? Maybe I'll be that badass after three months, we can only hope.

First Impressions

So after my long nap due to jet lag (which I still have not recovered from) I decided to take a walk around the neighborhood with my roommate to find local supermarkets. It had just rained (currently monsoon season).

Lesson 1: Don't wear flip flops after heavy rain in a muddy area

The streets (although paved) were transformed into mud rivers and the flip flops served to catapult bits of mud all over my backside. Classy.

After returning to the guesthouse to clean up, the guy who lives/works there made us dinner. He is young (probably late teens, early 20s) and his job is to always be at the guesthouse, to clean up and make us dinner. He is from Nepal and speaks no English, and he sleeps on the floor of the living room. He can't leave the guesthouse for longer than 10 minutes at a time since no one has the key to the place so he must always be available to open the door day or night. Its very strange, I feel bad for him, he spends all day watching TV and he's literally confined here.

The night was uneventful, aside from the 5 inch millipede I found racing around the bathroom. Yea that didn't go so well. It was the middle of the night so I had to silence my squeals as I murdered it with my flip flops (yes the same ones). Needless to say I did not sleep well that night, visions of tiny legs danced in my head.

Coming soon - first day of work.

Arrival

So after a trip that overall lasted over 24 hours (and which included the spraying of insecticide on the plane from London to Bangalore which is apparently common practice), I finally arrived in India. After going through customs, I picked up my baggage and made my way outside of the airport around 5am praying that my driver had actually come. Since it was so early I wasn't subject to the massive groups of people that normally wait outside the airport, but instead a long line of Indian men carrying signs and waiting. It was an awkward process, the signs mostly were just pen on paper and so I had to make my way down the line one by one looking for my name while they all stared. I quickly became aware of the fact that I was the only woman who had ventured outside alone, but I told myself to appear confident as I refused others who asked me if I needed a ride. I finally (and thankfully) found my driver and we made our way over to his taxi.

The trunk was extremely small and so I was going to suggest he put my massive suitcase in the backseat with me, but instead he just placed it on top of the car with just four very shallow bars and a flimsy latch holding it in place. This was my first worry, as I kept looking out of the rear window expecting to see my suitcase fly off the roof into darkness. Once I realized how people tend to drive here, I became much more concerned with just getting to the guesthouse safely! I felt like my driver was fairly good, but this doesn't mean much when traffic rules don't seem to apply to the rest. Apparently it is common practice to drive anywhere on the road you see fit, with little regard to lanes. More than once we were in a lane facing head-on traffic before swerving back to the left lane at the last minute. You don't need to just worry about cars, but bikes going opposite traffic and pedestrians crossing the street at random intervals. It is no wonder that drivers here use their car horn liberally, practically every time they pass another form of transportation.

I finally made it to the guesthouse which is very basic (I don't have a blanket!) but sufficient. I am currently sharing a room (which I was not expecting) with a French girl who is leaving in a few weeks and the living situation may or may not be temporary. But it appears fairly clean, with a Western style bathroom, and I have wi-fi so I can't really complain :-)

After sleeping for a good 10 hours and waking up at 2:15pm I am spending some time getting settled...first day of work tomorrow.