The only mishap occurred when I realized after arriving at my parents house in Chennai, that someone had managed to steal all my memory cards out of my checked bag! Someone had stealthily unzipped my bag before it hit the conveyors, somewhere between Beijing, Kuala Lumpur, and Chennai....so I apologize if you happen to find your pictures posted on an obscure Indian website. Mine will be there too!
Mis padres apartment is located on the coast of Southeastern India, on the the Bay of Bengal in Chennai, which is in the state of Tamil Nadu. Chennai, the capital of Tamil Nadu is the fourth largest city in India, topped only by Mumbai, Delhi, and Kolkata. For many, and believe me anyone who has been to Chennai has been sure to tell me the same, Chennai is no travellers paradise or hot spot destination. It is dirty, extremely overpopulated, congested with traffic, polluted, and hot as hell. However, who can tell me that you have not heard any one of those things about another city/anywhere in India? That's what I thought...and so far, Chennai is the only India that I have encountered thus far, and I love it.
I would like to give you a quote written by Ruth Prawer Jhabvala, in Out of India: Selected Stories. She is an expat from Europe who moved to India with her Indian husband and children.
"India reacts very strongly to people. Some loathe it, some love it, and most do both. There is a special problem of adjustment for the sort of people who come today, who tend to be liberal in outlook and have been educated to be sensitive and receptive to other cultures...The place is very strong and often proves too strong for European nerves...including Americans...It goes like this: first stage, tremendous enthusiasm - everything Indian is marvelous; second stage, everything Indian not so marvelous; third stage, everything Indian abominable. For some people it ends there, for others the cycle renews itself and goes on."
I fear I am diving head first into this called first stage of being in India. I am swimming in a sea of delight, and can only see everything through a magnificent lens, jewelled in vibrant colors and faces. My eyes are like shutters: blinking and breathing in my surroundings. Even as I walk nimbly and quickly over the mounds of littered trash, growling flea ridden stray dogs, glancing everywhere and anywhere all at once, I can only see beautiful things. I have not been able to erase the optimism, excitement, and thrill of a being in a new and foreign place yet...although I know this may not last long, I am revelling in it.
India is a maze: a winding, speeding, thoroughfare. People, animals, cars, bicycles, children, buses, and rickshaws overflow the streets, impregnating the glittered sidewalks with strings of glowing beads, and fragrant flowers. Ebony dark faces, darker than the night, look at me with eyes of curiosity and wonder. Holding out hands filled with necklaces, trinkets, and hope, our eyes meet for a split second and search for words. Beautiful women, with the same dark chocolate skin stroll around in brilliant and silky saris, wrapped carefully and meticulously, covering everything but the skin on their necks and ankles. Vibrant greens, pinks, purples, oranges, every color on the spectrum magnified. Small and wrinkled old women trudge by with baskets of fruit, barrels of water, and bricks. They carefully balance their treasures on their heads, as though they were carrying nothing but a feather...I have a hard enough time carrying a bag full of books on my back. It is hard to imagine a woman older than our grandmas, who appears to be frail and wrinkled, carrying the weight of heavy bricks on her head. Far from frail, these women are stronger than the oxen pushing carts between beeping cars.
So on to the excitement for today...
I went to the doctor today, you know to get a routine set of vaccinations which I failed to do in the states. I wound up getting a polio booster, and three other shots. Taking the first two with ease, or so I thought, I starting feeling a bit queasy but knowing I still had one more shot to go I brushed it off. After meeting with Dr. John and feeling confidant that I could ward off sickness, we walked out of the office to get a ride home.
As I'm walking outside, I started feeling a bit woozy, by a bit I mean I could not see anything. All I knew was that I had to sit down, so finding the first spot on a cement bench, I sat down thinking it would pass. The next thing I know, I wake up to small dark hands pulling me from the dirt, and sitting me up again.Young faces were peering at me from all angles, asking in perfect English what happened. I was a dishevelled mess, my hair a tangled not of curls caked in dirt.
My face, arms, back and everything was coated in a layer of dust. This feisty old woman wearing a green sari started splashing water in my face with such force, it could have been her palm. She started pouring water over my arms and face, rubbing away the dust and making me drink a sip. My dad came running back out of the Dr's office in a state of horror. He says he saw my face in the dirt, and immediately thought I was going into some sort of epileptic shock! imagine. The green sari had dragged me to my feet and back into the doctors office, bursting in on a patient. To my dismay, the doctor tells me that this is actually quite normal, and many people faint or tend to get sick after having shots. You think maybe he could have told me that 15 minutes prior? That may have been helpful.
For the first time to faint, doing so on a dirt street in India while cars whizz past my face, and Indian hands come to my rescue, I am not sure it could get any crazier. For all I knew, as I rolled back into consciousness, I thought I had been hit by a car. Luckily I was able to sit down out of the road before this all happened, otherwise I could have fallen in the middle of the street, hit my head, or been run over by a speeding vehicle.
Although I nearly gave my dad a heart attack, and I have a mark next to my eye, things could have been much worse. I was so grateful to the swift rescue of the passing bystanders, and to have my dad there to get me home. Laying down in the backseat for the nearly hour drive back home, I made it alive.
So in the aftermath of my near death experience, haha, I have been recovering under the fan in the living room...still sweating, as I'm learning, is a phenomenon that will never cease when you are in India.
well that's all I have for now!
paz.
-s
No comments:
Post a Comment