Let's play a game...

Which Captain America villain am I impersonating?







ps- I think I may have found my calling. I'll post details later if I don't get bored of it by then.

A weekend in India and then some

Good footwear is very important in India, especially when you live in the hills. Something comfortable is an absolute must but it should also have good ankle support, toe protection, and a sturdy sole. Chappals (pronounced 'chup-puls') are none of these (well, except for comfortable).

Chappals are basically flip flops.
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You should NEVER wear chappals into the bazaar. I have three wounds like this. It was such a nice, warm day though that I couldn't resist. I knew that as soon as I hit the road I was going to regret wearing them this day. Alas, live and learn.

Cindy especially has been bugging me about who this person 'T' is whom I keep referring to on the blog. Well, this is an especially candid photo of him.

This is more often what you get.

The two pictures above of T were taken at the new Clock Tower Cafe (CTC for short). It just opened this semester and caters specifically to Woodstockers and western tastes. It's a nice hang out but a tad small. We actually had to crash a table of ninth graders in order to get a seat. The food's good, not terribly expensive and the atmosphere is great. I do still love the Tavern though. (I'll have to get a video of a night out there sometime.) We went down to the book depot and I picked up a copy of The Hobbit and The Koran for some light reading. I also managed to find some true pipe tobacco in the bazaar so Cindy, you don't need to worry about what's in my pipe anymore. It's slightly aromatic, has a good smell and a good taste but it bites the tongue like the time I poured all the remnants of a sour skittles bag on my tongue at once.

Later that night was the student talent show. I wasn't really wanting to go because the auditorium is right down the hall from the science office and I heard the kids practicing everyday after school for about two weeks. Let's just say that I knew already what was good and what wasn't. However, I did promise some students that I would go see them. It's only fair since they HAD to come to the staff talent show. I just knew that I was going to be subjecting myself to more screaming than performance.

It was a pretty enough evening when I set out.

There was dancing...

break dancing...

and back up dancing...

The girl singing was actually amazing... Some people were convinced that she was lip-syncing but just knowing the girl... I don't think she would do that.

A group of grade 11s did a rendition of Toto's 'Africa.' I don't know what else to say about it... it was interesting. I was waiting for them to go into the less well known but infinitely better Toto song, 'Rosanna.'

Ahh... Senior boys... They were like a pack of wolves, or more accurately, Statler and Waldorf. They hung out in the balcony in a large group and screamed as much and as loud as the girls. It wasn't so much heckling as just being rowdy boys. Bless 'em.

The week has been good enough to me. Things went off without much of a hitch. I've finally gotten myself caught up for grading, now I just need to work on the planning part. All in due time. I ended up catching a cold that's been going around, been a little achy and stuffed up but that's about it. It should pass soon enough.

I also finally got my Christmas package. It sat in Delhi for almost a month but everything arrived intact (well, except for the box... but I've yet to receive one that hasn't been crushed or torn apart). Wrapping them was kind of a moot point though... everything had been opened by customs. I guess they wanted to make sure I really did have the original Star Wars trilogy (with no stupid redos... Damn you George Lucas), a new copy of Zorba: The Greek, and a red sweater. Oh well, at least it's here.

Also, on this Wednesday we had a get together of the men on campus. We decided that we needed to get a night to go out and have a few drinks, talk about power tools and sniff each other's farts. We ended up with four dudes and one eunuch... but we take what we can get. It was a great time full of beer, food, and bad mic checks.

Lastly, I know I said that if you wanted to see me in these two years you would have to come to India... Well, I caved. I was looking for some places to do some professional development for chemistry. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be had abroad (I was hoping someplace like Thailand) but I did find a class at IC just a block away from home. So, for about a month from late June until mid-July I'll be in the south-central Illinois region. I'll try making a trip up to Bloomington-Normal one weekend so if you'll be in the area, we should get together.

Statler: Do you know what my favorite part about that post was?
Waldorf: No. What?
Statler: THE ENDING!
Both: Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

Holi

Today was Holi, an interesting holiday. Basically, it's a Hindu holiday that's also known as the festival of colors. That's about all I know about it. Well, that and the fact that you throw colors at each other. If you're that interested you can google it. I'll just let the pictures talk.

Mother and daughter from school. They're a lot of fun.

The French teacher and I.

Can words even describe?

These two aren't very good at that 'wear makeup like you're not' thing.

Hail! Hail! The gang's all here... or most of them anyway.


And the aftermath:

So, it was a good time. I got a little bit earlier today in class as well. I let the grade twelves put some yellow on my face. It was fun until it kept flaking off into my lunch.

In other news, we have a monkey problem here at school. They wander the trails and buildings and generally harass staff and students alike. School decided to do something about it and hired a crew of languorwallahs. These are guys who walk around with languor monkeys on a leash. The monkey basically sits there and marks it territory and pisses off the other monkeys into leaving. I haven't been able to get a picture yet, but I'm trying. The funny thing is that I always think of mom when I see them. Something about monkeys and leashes...

I gave devotions today to the tenth graders. I enjoy doing it. Mainly because I can talk about these really bizarre topics and then tie it in at the end with something. The kids think it's ridiculous and all but they have fun. Today's topic was comic books. I basically talked bout how super heroes are in the position to do the right thing even if they're not loved or even looked down upon by (like Batman or Spiderman). I tied it in by saying that we have the power and responsibility to stop things like bullying or name calling. It was hammy but I think the kids got it and thought it was fun.

Oh my stars and garters...

I like looking at the Feedjit live feed to see where the people who view my blog are from and just how they got here. Most are people I know, family, friends, Wade. Others come via the WS website. Others still, and I find these the most intriguing, come from random google searches (my favourite still being that I'm in the top 10 for reasons as to why India sucks, though this may displace it). The one I saw tonight was some blog feed from Hong Kong about sex. I figured it out that in one of my HK posts I talked about determining the sex of a horse and that must be how I'm suddenly linked to Filipino prostitutes and the world's first 3d sex film.

Oh blog, of all the things you have shown me and brought to my attention. You are truly an eye opener.

Little reflections

So, I was talking to dad via the skype earlier this week and in between asking me frustrating questions about coming home and legal issues he mentioned that there's not enough of the little, day to day things on the blog. Well, I think that I'm hitting that rut that a few of the other bloggers have sunk into. It's the one where living in India is neat and exciting for you, my audience, but has since become very much everyday life for me. That said, I guess there are still a few things I can talk about.

One thing I have noticed is how when you go somewhere you always try to fit in as best you can with the locals. On the other side, whenever someone visits you try to make them feel as much at home as possible. I see this every day on my morning walk up to school for breakfast. I take the road down to school and as I'm walking up the ramp to school there is inevitably a man sweeping the leaves and monkey poop away. As I pass I quietly (it is in the morning... Cindy can testify to how talkative I am at that hour) say, with the slightest of nods, "Namaste," the typical Indian greeting. He smiles and tilts his head in the Indian fashion and says, "Good morning, sir."

Another thing that I never really understood was getting kurtas. When I first arrived, I was very much encouraged to go to the tailors and have them make me a series of kurtas to wear as it will help me to dive into the culture and fit in. Well, I'm not sure if the style of shirt I wear is really going to detract from the fact that I'm a tall, bald, pasty white guy walking through the bazaar. It's all compounded by the fact that I think I see more men wearing western style shirts than kurtas at any given time. Honestly, the only people I recall wearing kurtas regularly are some of the teachers here at WS and they're all white guys too.

And I suppose I should at least make mention about Friday. I've started taking my advisees out in pairs for dinner so that I might get to know them more properly. I thought this first time out went quite well (except for the bill, but then again, it's probably the only thing I'll spend more that Rs 200 on all month...) and I really got to know the two kids much better than I had all of last semester. Well, last Friday was also the sixth anniversary of mom's death. It's funny, I can't remember her birthday for the life of me but I'll always remember that date and that morning in particular. So, I had gone all throughout the day without thinking about it, constantly looking at my calendar to see what class I had next and writing the date down for attendance slips but all through the day I never made the connection. Then, when I was sitting having dinner with these two advisees the girl asked me what I was wearing around my neck. So I pulled out the cross that dad had gotten all of us and she asked to see it so I took it off and gave it to her. She started looking at it and flipped it to the back and noticed all of the dates. I explained to her it was my mother's name. She then asked what 'D' and 'M' meant. I explained those where for 'Death' and 'Married' respectively. She then looked about more closely and I heard her muttering something about the dates being done in the American fashion and then saying, 'March sixth.' "Oh," I said, "I guess that was today." She got this really scared, almost terrified look on her face and sheepishly gave me back the chain. I told her it was OK, death's just a normal part of living. I guess that I should be thankful, I'm not sure I would've remembered at all if she hadn't asked to see it. This last Thursday we had a devotion given during assembly that was all about remembrance. If we don't remember things, what happens to them?