India #6 (for real): Finals and 1/2 of Kerela

Hello everyone,

A lot has happened since I last wrote. I meant to get to an update before I left, but unfortunately I didn't do that well planning time for it... I guess I'll start with finals week and try to get to today, but we'll see how that goes.

I think I'll outline my week before tour (finals week) to get in the "spirit" of the week (which was characterized by me doing an obscene amount of homework within an incredibly small amount of time-- 4 essays and one test in a five day period):
I. Coffee Addiction Update
II. Hasan Bhatti, contact for The Guinness book of World Records?!
III. Shifting Houses
IV. The Miracle of the Butt Gun (yes, I do mean two t's)

As you all well know, I'm currently fighting my addiction to coffee. So far, it is not going so well. My host mother has gotten in the habit of giving me coffee in the morning, and my tongue has gotten used to the warm milk drink with a sliver of caffeine that I find it hard to ask for anything else when I wake up. The good news: I no longer drink coffee when I get back from SITA. The bad news: I usually still have two "tea times" at SITA... during both of which my hands grow a mind of their own, and the next thing I know, I'm sitting there with an empty mug with coffee dregs at the bottom. That's probably a bit of an exaggeration, but it has become habit to get coffee at these tea times. In all, I'm failing at laying off the caffeine.

Me? A Guinness book of world records contact? who knew? Well, let me tell you how I "earned" that title. It was Saturday, and I still had to finish my final paper for Environmental Issues. The SITA building had just closed for the day, and I was walking into my internet cafe of choice to finish it on a word document (there are three of them really close to SITA. The one that I like has very very nice people who talk to you and introduce you to family friends. The connection isn't great, and the other two are much faster, but I like the atmosphere, so I keep going back). As I walk in, I say hi to the two attendants, a married couple (arranged of course), who normally make small talk with me as I'm checking facebook or updating my fantasy basketball league (which I'm still getting pwned in). This time, I find an older gentleman with a huge manila folder filled with papers and documents talking to the woman. The woman introduces him as her uncle (which is another way of saying a good friend... that happens a lot here). I say "vannakam," (what you say when you first meet someone) bowing my head to show respect, and he does the same. Then, he tells me to sit down and that he has something to tell me. I figures, why not-- I have 8 hrs to write 3 pages of my EI paper. So I sit down. Well, I had no idea what I was getting into-- what I thought would be a friendly chat about why I was here or finding out what he does around Madurai turned out to be the most amusing generalization about Americans that I had heard while being here. As soon as I sat down, he started to explain that his nephew, a boy of 4 years old, was a special human being. I asked why. He told me that a year ago, March 10, 2008, his nephew of 4 years had, with a huge map of the world in front of him, named every single country in the world in a mere minute and forty nine seconds (which is incredible by any standard). How was this possible, I asked. Apparently the kid had an exceptional photographic memory, where he could jsut look at a map or a document and then memorize everything on it, much like Danny the Hasid in The Chosen. He then opened the folder he was carrying, and began to show me countless documents that confirmed this feat: Tamil newspaper articles, notary signatures of those that had experienced the feat, a dvd of his nephew doing the deed, editorials praising the Indian educational system, his nephew's report card at the best high school in Madurai (the report card had straight 100s in every single category). The evidence was beyond what it needed to be: I believed him, and I would be surprised if no one else did. As I continued to marvel at this accomplishment, I was still wondering why he was telling me all this-- so I asked him. This was his response: well you're American, and I've been trying to contact the Guinness book of world records for the past year; maybe you could send in a good word for me and my nephew... Well that was a little shocking. Apparently, in his mind, the fact that I was wearing a Manny Ramirez Red Sox shirt, had a modern looking REI backpack, and a water bottle holder (three things that obviously set me apart as an American) meant that I was best friends with the entire Guinness "judging staff". I told him that I had read the book, but had no clue how to do this-- I was just as in the dark as he was. He was a little disappointed but didn't let up. He then asked me to circulate this story to my friends within SITA, as if this accomplishment would somehow be more visible to Guinness if a bunch of Americans were astonished and impressed at such a feat. I felt sorry for the guy, but the whole scene was just too hard to not laugh: Me sitting there with a very shocked, resigned, impressed, and altogether incredulous face, and him sitting there almost begging me to give him my "infinite" wisdom of the world of entering a world record. I told him I would do my best (email them, look on the website... you know, things that I could actually do), but I wouldn't promise him anything... and that was that. He said thank you for listening and that he'd probably be back at a later date and that he hoped I could get in touch with them.

So, let's add yet another definition to the image of Americans in their minds in addition to the following (not a complete list; I just can't remember them all): We all know and love Obama! (which people shout to me once they know I'm from America-- one time I was riding in my cycle with a bunch of other SITA kids and an auto driver going the opposite direction leaned out the side of the rickshaw and yelled in a very long, drawn out, almost mockingly dramatic manner: OOOOOBBBAAAAAMAAAAAAA!!!! Priceless), that we want to buy postcards when we wont buy the weird things that street vendors sell on the streets (such as a "mint one of a kind mini chess board for only 100 rupees..." yeah right), that we can be ripped off easily, and that we all know the process of entering the Guinness book of world records.

The same day, Saturday, I experience a pretty large change in my home situation, literally. Apparently, the house that I had lived in for the last few months had been a "rented house" to stay in while the family's real house was being built only 100 meters away (the new house was in the same compound and was essentially the same exact house in a different location). That Saturday, the house was ready, and my family moved everything into that house. So when I got back to my "old" house after finishing my EI paper, my room was an empty rectangle, save the tornado of papers and books that I sloshed around while I was doing my finals. Somewhere in the confusion of moving all my stuff, I lost my purple flashlight (I know mom... I'm sad too)... oh well. Our new house is very similar to the old one architecturally-- except this time, I was blessed by the gods above by one of the best devices in the world.

The Butt Gun. Yes, it is exactly what it sounds like: a gun for the butt. Before I had told you guys about the process of going to the bathroom, and how Indian sewer systems were not equipped to process toilet paper (and that you had to use water to clean your... ahem, business). Ordinarily you just use a small cup of water, your left hand (sometimes referred to as your "poo hand" by SITA students), and a ton of soap. Not so with the butt gun. For those that wash dishes, picture the "sprayer" that was typically found next to faucets during childhood (I haven't seen them recently-- essentially they are like a hose attachment with a little lever in the back to release the water). That's what the butt gun is, except it spurts the water out with much more force (and for good reason). If you put two and two together, you'll understand why I'm pretty excited about this piece of machinery-- cause I'm not gonna go that deep into detail (mainly because some of you are munching on buff chick calzones currently). Suffice it to say that it is quite a refreshing experience.

K, now to tour. We went to the neighboring state of Kerela, described as the "most beautiful state in India." I still maintain Hampi as the most beautiful place I know in India, but they certainly were telling the truth; Kerela was very very beautiful. To me, the two places represent two different types of beauty that our earth possesses. Hampi's beauty slaps you in the face; it is a lot more explicitly different, and therefore the beauty is a lot more surprising and yet rejuvenating-- it's a totally different world that not many people have ever experienced before, and as such it is much more of a surprising and astonishing type of beauty. Kerela's is a bit different. I would characterize Kerela as a whole as more of a refreshing beauty; more like "oh god, there are still places like you left in the world." Kerela contained both familiar types of beauty and unprecedented ones as well: rolling mountains of greenery (and tropical plants), a long and beautiful coastline, horizons upon horizons of lush green agriculture (including huge tea plantations upon the mountains in S. India-- pics to come don't worry). Kerela was a nice respite from massive amounts of work to the IS period.

We set off the Sunday after my Guinness fiasco in vans due west for the town of Thekkedy (located right along the boundary between the two most southern states in India: Tamil Nadu, where Madurai is, and Kerela). On the way to Thekkedy, we took the winding roads up the Western Ghats, my new favorite mountain range. Our van driver was a little nuts, going a little too fast around the bends, that made most of us pretty sick by the time we got off. Thankfully we stopped in a small town to have tea time to recenter ourselves (at which I, yet again, got coffee... I really am not doing too good with this whole anti-caffeine campaign). We reached Thekkedy, and straightway went to a spice plantation. Thekkedy is well known for three things: tea production, spice production, and the Periyar Tiger Wildlife Preserve (all of which we visited). We got a mini tour of the spice plantation, got to ride an elephant (which was definitely as cool as I imagined, although it wasn't as scary as I remember it was when I was 8... I can't remember where we were, but I do remember taking an elephant up a pretty large hill with a cliff on one side and a solid rock wall on the other side... for those that haven't been on an elephant it swings side to side while you're on top, so half the time I was either thinking we would eat it down the mountain or get stuck on the rock wall... good times), and met a family of farmers who were drying coffee beans on large mats outside of their hut. There were two really really cute girls, one about 3 and one 5, that followed us around. I said hi to them and managed to snap a pic of them. Hopefully I'll get my act together and get them up at some point... that's a big if tho.

After the spice garden and our elephant ride, a group of us went to dinner at a nearby hotel (hotels here almost always have a restaurant associated with them). Bad idea. Three problems: A) too hot inside, B) the food blew, and C) no dessert. Epic fail. But it did spark a good ending: we got some ice cream downtown, the best I've had since Maple View Farms outside of Carrboro (usually the ice cream here tastes like whipped cream but has the consistency of butter... this time it was different, thankfully). When we got back from our delightful dessert, we experienced something peculiar back at the hotel. We were walking up the stairs when a hotel attendant with a smoking metal cylinder (yes think Christian priest going down the aisle with that smoking cylinder during a mass) filled with incense flailed the metal object around our halls. Quite a way to freshen up a hotel hallway, but man did it smell good (like jasmine flowers dipped in honey... mmmmm)

The next day, we arose at 6:00 AM to take a 3 hour "safari walk" in the Periyar Wildlife Preserve. It was a very nice day-- a comfortable 75 degrees-- and very bright. It was such a nice walk; the sun on your shoulders and the morning mist spraying your face. I often closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of everything going on around me. Such a nice difference from the hustle and bustle of Madurai.I have some pics of this setting as well; it was very beautiful and captured a lot of the sights that I often saw during my time in Kerela-- when I get them up I'll tell you guys so you can see what I mean. We saw lots of monkeys, some bison, a few elephants, and a ton of rare birds. No tiger (sadly), but we did see a tree that had been scratched up by one (that counts right?). An interesting thing about this ecotourist site: all the guides that worked there once were tiger poachers just 10 years before (and have contributed to the tiger's endangered state in India as a whole). Good planning on the preserve's part.

After the reserve, we were let loose on the town for the day. The town of Thekkedy was nothing special. It was just as tourist oriented as Hampi town was, with tons of stores devoted to silk outfits and small handicrafts that you could find almost everywhere (but that shop owners insisted were indigenous to Thekkedy only... that seems to be a common sales tactic in India). I had a good time just browsing the shops, talking to random Indians as I passed, and exploring the town with other SITA members. At night, we went to a very good restaurant to make up for the shittyness that was the night before.

The next day we went to a tea plantation in the morning, where most environmentalists would cringe. On our way there, the hills were absolutely covered in tea plants-- or large bushes about 3 feet tall. It was all very green and pretty, but any environmentalist would look at that situation and say: god that run off must be ridiculous. And they would be right. There were huge gulleys down the sides of these tea plants where rain from the wet season (From Sept to Dec) had torn the land straight apart. I have pics of this also. All in due time.

We got back to the hotel, and then left for Kottayam, a layover city for our journey to Cochin. This is the journey in which I fell in love with the Ghats. The views I saw on that bus ride were like none I've ever seen in the Whites or the Blue Ridges (for all you out west, spare your Sierra Nevada and Rocky nationalism. I'll get out there eventually). I was only able to take a few pictures cause my memory card (which only held 49 pics at the time) was running out of room, and I was on the side of the bus that was most often facing the mountain side, and not the huge valleys and peaks of other mountains in the distance (I got a new camera, thankfully, so this won't be a problem in the future-- this time I didn't get lost). I wish I could describe the views or show you epic pictures, but alas, it was not destined to be so. Stay tuned for the Himalayas!!!!

I think I'm gonna stop here. It's a nice mid-point, and I've been writing for about 2 hrs now... maybe I should really take a class in shortening my details and my points, cause honestly sometimes its just plain exhausting. Anyway, I'll update you on my current status. Right now I'm in the middle of my Independent Study period, during which I need to get a shitload of interviews and literature material to eventually form a 25 page paper about the effect of land purchases by multinational corporations and other groups interested in land ownership on farmers outside of Madurai (yep, that means I'll be spending most my time inside of a village!!!! SO EXCITED-- stay tuned for pics. They're gonna be sweet, guaranteed). This wont be hard and I know it-- I am really interested in the topic and I know that when I start, I won't be able to stop... it's just starting it all that is the problem...

Until tomorrow (when I'll write the rest of tour and update my current status). Love and miss you all, and I wish you were here to experience this country with me-- it's one of those countries that truly changes your life in ways that you can't even imagine. Keep being beautiful people :-)

Hasan