August 14th 2014

I really didn’t like Lucknow. I questioned many times if I had made the right decision in coming back to India this summer. North India probably isn’t the most “fun” place to spend a summer. Besides this, Lucknow is only modern on the surface. It has more malls, more washing machines, than other North Indian cities, but the fact is that this is not a tourist city. When I made my first trip to a village when I came to India in 2012, I was shocked by the way people looked at me, and how many people looked at me, like they had never seen someone like me before. It’s normal to get those looks here all the time and everywhere, and that’s confusing to me especially with the backdrops of nicer hotels and infrastructure in general. It was a frustrating contrast at first.

And now I’m sitting in my room, next to all of my stuff (surprise, I’m packed) in a house that I’ve become so comfortable in. The disclaimer here is that the only reason I’m packed ahead of time is that our check-in bags are being sent to Delhi ahead of us today. I’m sad to leave this city.

I’m especially sad to leave my host family. I got incredibly lucky. They weren’t just nice to me, but they treated me like a member of the family, and that’s how I feel now. I spent most of my time in this house (probably most of my time in Lucknow) in my host parent’s room, hanging out, watching serials, eating, and I always felt welcome. It helped that whenever they had a guest over, my host dad would tell them that I was their Urdu-speaking American daughter, and when they looked surprised he would say “Don’t we look alike?!?” But it was mostly just the way they made me feel like I wasn’t just in a house that I was staying in with a family that I was living with. They made me feel like I was in a house I belonged to, with a family I was a part of.

I am happy with my Urdu; I didn’t think it would get to this point. I’m proud of what I’ve learned, and my comfort level in speaking, reading, and writing. The thing that holds me back the most are the idioms. “Make a rope into a snake,” meaning “to exaggerate;” “to be like the moon of Eid,” meaning “to be seen rarely;" ”to put one’s hands in the flowing Ganga river,” meaning “to take advantage of what is provided.” If it were up to me, I would delete idioms from every language (just kidding, mostly). There are always going to be things that don’t translate, and the way that I’ll find that out is by saying things that sound good in English in my head, and getting laughed at when I try to say them in Urdu.

I am sad to leave but very much ready. I’ve turned in my final exam, taken my last Oral Proficiency Interview, bought the last of the souvenirs, I’ve learned how to get around Lucknow, I got to know this city and some of the people in a way that is making me sad to leave, but I think that’s a good thing. I am so excited to go home and see my family and the ocean. We’re leaving India at 2:30 AM on Saturday.

Love, 

Ada

Here are some Eid photos: 

August 5th 2014

I've been under the impression that every time it's rained I've been witnessing "the monsson." But yesterday, when I decided to walk home from school, I had to roll my pants up above my knees. Probably the most skin I've shown thus far in this country. The road in front of school and the roads leading to my house were completely washed out. I was knee-deep in water for a good portion of the walk home. It was kind of fun. Now I have a revised idea of what "monsoon" means.

I've been back to Benares twice now. I'm here to learn Urdu, but one of the most important things for me during this trip was to go back to Benares. I thought it would be weird going back. It was weird coming back to India. But it was easy going back to Benares. As soon as we exited the train station, everything seemed familiar. I recognized my bike routes to work, I recognized stores, and finally, I recognized people who recognized me. The sense of familiarity was comforting Visiting people, catching up with my old host family, teachers, and friends, was easy. Seeing my smiley students and the other kids at Guria just made me happy. Goodbyes were easy this time as well. I don't expect myself to come back soon, but it's a given that I will come back. (Added bonus, I got to see two of my  best friends in Benares who have been traveling around North India, so that was great.)

Eid was celebrated last week on Tuesday. The night before, I went into the Old City and went to the house of friends in the program and watched fireworks explode around the city from their rooftop. And then we added to the display with our own fireworks. Fun fact: not too many fireworks regulations around here. The city was busier than I've ever seen it during the daytime, and this was after 11:00 pm. When I came home, I stayed up for another couple of hours, getting henna done with the girls in my host family. The next day, the day of Eid, consisted of getting dressed up, eating food, visiting people, having people visit, eating more food, and taking a lot of ictues. Everyone looked great, in my host family, and in my group. They were making food in my house starting early in the morning. By around 8:30 pm, people started coming into my house at a steady pace, to visit for Eid. And by 9:00 pm, my host family's prior claims of "we have a lot of friends that come on Eid," and the cooking that started at 7 am was justified. My house was packed. People in their new clothing were talking, eating, giving Eidi (small amounts of money to kids), taking pictures. It was great.

This last weekend we took a trip to Agra. See that group of 30 Americans moving through the train station in a slow-moving mass? Yes, that was us. The taj was beautiful, once again. I was happy to feel the same sense of appreciation for how impressive it is, that I felt the first time I saw it. We also toured the Agra fort and akbar's tomb. My least favorite thing about Agra is the harrassment. You'll try to take a group picture, and all of the sudden, in addition to your friend who's taking the picture, there is a small cluster of Indian men with their cameras, taking pictures as well. The amount if "ma'am ek photo," "photo please," "snap, snap with me" requests that I and the others in our group got was ridiculous. I said "no" to all of them, if you're curious. My only regret is not trying to charge people for pictures with me (just kidding).

We are all working in our final projects now. I am making "She,a The Man" into a Bollywood movie. Instead of soccer, she plays cricket. Instead of forced debutante participation, she is being forced into an arranged marriage. The story practically writes itself.

That's about it for now.

Lots of love,
Ada