On Friday night my boss and I had a sleepover at the office. Yep. She wanted to work late, her husband was out of town, and she doesn't like to be at the office alone. So she asked me to stay on Friday night with her. We spent about an hour or two talking about our families and showing each other pictures of them. Except the most I could really do was show her pictures of me & Patrick (happy 19th birthday!!) because I don't have any family photos on my computer. There was also a wedding across the street, so we watched the procession, which I really enjoyed...especially because she had just shown me pictures from two of her siblings' weddings. And this isn't procession in the American sense - first, there was a kid with a giant sparkler on a huge stick. Periodically, he would stop and set off fireworks. Then, there was a marching band walking down the street in two lines. On either side of the lines were big light fixtures being held up by members of the groom's family (I think). Then there was a big van that I think was providing the power for the light fixtures. But it was also playing contemporary Indian music out of the back side. So naturally, behind the van were a whole bunch of men who I assume were related to the groom, dancing with one another in the way only Indian men can. I could've sworn a few of the songs were sampling M.I.A., but then I realized it was probably the other way around. Then there was a less active procession of men, and a horse-drawn carriage that the groom (and maybe the bride too, I couldn't get a good look at who was inside) in it. When it pulled up to the venue, guests would climb inside the carriage to give the groom gifts. At this point it got boring so I stopped watching but it was the first wedding procession that I actually got to sit and observe and figure out so I really liked it. It was very bright and loud.
Anyway, we've been working on an Ashoka Changemakers grant application that's due on Wednesday. She told me yesterday that my name is going to be included on the proposal because of how much I've been helping her with it. Whoa. She's also definitely the Indian person I've bonded the most with. No offense to my host family or anything, they were wonderful, but they've been hosting students forever. Same to the program staff. All wonderful people. But she & I get along really well.
We didn't end up going to a village this week, which I was a little bummed about because it definitely would help me to prepare for living there. I'm a very visual person when it comes to these things. I have a really, really hard time visualizing situations like this and anticipating what to expect. However, Dipti and Natasha, the business manager, will now be coming with me on Friday to drop me off in the first village. And will be in the second village at the end of the week, too. So I'm glad I won't be going in alone. Also, they're going to go with me to BHU and Sarnath before we go to the village. I was talking to Dipti about wanting to go to those places and she goes, "Well, who will you go with?" "I guess just by myself." "No, we will go with you. It's much better going with people."
I didn't sleep well on Friday night though, because I was in a new place (for sleeping at least), and it was windy, which would've been great except the windows kept slamming shut, and it was hot. I spoil myself with air conditioning in my room at my guesthouse. The wedding, surprisingly, wasn't loud at all. By any standards, not just Indian. So by the time we left the office at 8:30 PM on Saturday, I was exhausted. All I wanted to do was go home, buy a chocolate bar (I found out that Cadbury gets all (I'm pretty sure it's all) of the chocolate for their Dairy Milk bars fair trade and that sparked an intense ethical chocolate craving. Or, it validated the chocolate cravings I was already having. Though I wouldn't be entirely surprised if this wasn't the case for the bars they sell in India), take a shower, watch Gossip Girl on my computer (please stop judging me) and go to bed. But there's traffic in India. Lots of it. My cycle rickshaw driver took a different route to avoid the traffic, which I was very grateful for initially. Until it was so bumpy and he wouldn't pass other cycle rickshaws going slower than we were, and we had to stop so he could load up on chewing tobacco. Oh, and I'm pretty sure he was younger than me. I realized about halfway through the ride that I wouldn't hold up very well under torture, so let's hope that never happens.
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