Men hack up phlegm while we eat in the mess hall. They are not discreet about it; they make loud hacking sounds, then spit colorfully into the sinks. Every meal. And we always make upset faces in response, since our meals magically become unappetizing after the hacking. They can't see us, luckily, but we can surely here them.
There have been hundreds of men coming onto the compound the last few days for job interviews. Yesterday there were 150 taking exams and having interviews; today they expect around 100. These people are all trying to land one of 15 jobs they have at Gram Vikas. Talk about competition, right? This means that there is more of a push for meals, and more people running around the office, and it makes our job of trying to get a hold of our supervisor, Chitra, nearly impossible. It also means that Hallie, Molly, and I are getting even more intensely stared down (than usual) while on campus, walking about and working. Maulin is always nearby, but they still stop their conversations, and stop to follow our movements. And there's not much we can do about it.
....
So here's my comedy movie moment of the week:
We were given hope at the beginning of the week of leaving GV for a few hours, on Saturday night. Bus leaves the campus at 4pm to go to Berhampur, and returns by 9:30pm. FOUR HOURS OF FREEDOM! That meant different meals (which was very important for most of us, because the slightly bland Indian meals with rice and daal were starting to become a chore), REAL FOOD (we could buy coconuts, and mangoes! and other joyous things!), walking around in newer areas, and the potential of purchasing some cheap bangles and sandals!
We began the countdown to Berhampur a while ago.
It started with just ideas of eating chinese food. Then pizza. Then mangoes, and bananas, and coconuts. Then we could go shopping! And so it became a daily game of imagining what this marvelous, elusive Berhampur would bring us. We even planned our trip around our tastings. We talked about trying to get one meal in every hour while in Berhampur, just so that we could revel in the diversity of foods we'd find.
Every meal, every break, we talked about, "Just two more days until Berhampur!"
So last night, we were walking to the mess hall and ran into the founder & Executive Director of GV, Joe. (Very sweet guy, very lovely, and he rides a bike everywhere. He is the leader of this grand pack, in every possible meaning of the term. He's kind of like a swami or royalty. He is the man of this post's image.) And we chit chatted for a little while about how our project was going, how the heat was, about the snakes and scorpions on the compound, and so on.
We said goodbye, and the team started jovially trotting again towards the mess hall, with relieved thoughts of Berhampur in our strides. Yet right away, Joe turns around on his bike and says, "Oh, before I forget, you are all invited to my house tomorrow night for supper."
And so, after the whole teams' hearts stopped while Joe invited us to dinner, and there were no words to use, we experienced yet another awkward silence. Only this time, it was a silence brought on by mixed emotions and internal screaming, not just the standard awkward sincerity that we usually have in our talks.
We all eked out some, "Yeah, sure, great, thank you..." remarks.
Joe looked at us, and with an awkward "Ok...." biked away from us. We panicked after his leaving, worried that our week-long dream of Saturday's ice cold drinks and different foods had come crashing down. What are we going to do?! All of our talk of Berhampur for nothing?! Both honored at the privilege of dinner with Joe & heartache from the idea that we were still stuck on campus, we brainstormed what was the best way to go about the situation. And so, we have decided to eat 3 dinners today (Saturday): 2 in Berhampur, and 1 after coming back at Joe's house.
...
I have come to appreciate the rain a little bit. The last 2/3 days the rain ceased, and it became beautiful and sunny out. And then the humidity got worse. And then the temperatures started shooting up. It hasn't been as hot as I had originally anticipated, and it's definitely not unbearable, but it is pretty warm.
Now, I personally don't really mind the heat; it's nice and makes me feel warm and sweaty. But it's the humidity in the air that's a killer. In normal dry heat, you can sweat and it will quickly dry on your skin, making you cooler. And your linen pants are breezy and nice. In THIS kind of humid heat, you sweat and it sticks on you. And then you keep on sweating, and it still sticks on you. It doesn't go away. Your linen pants become gooey, heavy, and cling to your body. I have been wearing my punjabis throughout the heat and have noticed the loose light cloth gives me a bit of a break, proving that there is a reason why it is advised to buy Indian clothing while in India, after all.
But it started to rain last night, and it broke the heat right away. Now we're all just wet again.
I have come to accept that I will never be dry while here in India.
1 comment:
Poor Kimmee, I wish I could make you feel dry again! Can't wait to hear about your feasting on Saturday! Stay away from those nasty scorpions and other scary stuff!
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