A love-hate relationship

We have not updated in a couple of days and we have done some fun stuff... Hopefully I can explain some of it by explaining what I am learning to Love about India and what I am learning to Hate about India:)

Bad comes first... we always want to end on a good note:)
I have come to hate the music that plays relentlessly through the night for the festival throughout the entire village over loud speakers. This music ranges from chipmunk sounding voices to a man chanting or talking. Many times we have wanted to search the streets for this microphone and rip it from his hands, but to no avail:)

I have come to hate the beep, ding, and honk of every rickshaw, bicycle, motorcycle or car that passes by as we walk down the road. Sometimes I want to stop in the middle of the street and yell at the top of my lungs for some sort of silence!

I have come to hate that nothing ever comes easy in this country whether it be a simple trip to the Subway which happens to be closed for the festival to the internet cafe where Lexi becomes the IT woman. NOTHING is easy here.

Indian boys must be fascinated with the white face of a woman because everywhere we go, millions of eyes follow us. Just this morning, our personal space was decreased as a horseshoe of high school boys watched us hand out stickers to the kids after they washed up for the day. I will never get used to it. The other day, we stood at the train station waiting for our train and there was a tiny circle of 6 white girls surrounded by a circle of Indian men just watching. I do not feel danger at these times... just extreme discomfort!

Things I love:
Mornings on the train with the women as they chatter with one another and occasionally engage in conversation with us. During these conversations they ignore the fact that we cannot understand Bengali and we submit to being laughed at and laughing at ourselves as we struggle to find any word we understand!

The children saying "Auntie, Auntie... slip slip" so that they can eat their meal for the day or Colgate, Auntie!" as they clean their teeth with their dirty little fingers every morning at the train station.

The mile walk to our host families house where every child calls "Hi" to us and tries to shake our hand. They don't ever get tired of it!

The color of India is fascinating... the women are brilliantly dressed everyday... they look like royalty... even some of the homeless ones at the train station... goes to show how much a little gold jewelry can do for a girl:)

Indian people are so helpful and kind... one day we stepped out of our comfort zone and took the train all by ourselves with an overnight bag to return to our host family after a weekend in the city... the train in the early AM compared to the late afternoon is incomparable. Picture sardines of women... Erin and I had our bags over our heads and women were pressed against me... cornering me against the wall... Indian women were hanging out the side of the train because there was no room inside! Nevertheless, the women knew where we had to get off and helped us push our way and even stepped off the train to make room for us! One day we were looking for an open internet cafe because though an Indian man says he will open again at 4:30, chances are he doesn't. Two Indian boys helped us find the next internet stop and led us up some creepy stairs that we never would have braved alone! Another day, we arrived at the Metro/triain station and didn't know what train to catch and an Indian man stepped right up and even walked us to the womens compartment. These people are good, kind, beautiful people.

I am sure that the other girls could add about a million things to both sides of the list, but hopefully this shows you another picture of what we are experiencing.

Danielle