Christmas in Dixie....In India

Since I just got around to starting my blog not too long ago, I have a back-log of topics to cover from the previous two months. So periodically I will be writing about things that happened a couple of months ago that I deem important to my experience here. Some of them (like this one) may be a little long, because I’m not very good at telling short stories…

One such experience was the Christmas holidays. I arrived in Bangalore on December 11^th, so it really didn’t make sense to come back for the Holidays, as it would probably stunt my adjustment period. So, I stuck it out and spent the first Christmas in my 28 years away from Little River, Kansas. I knew it would suck to not be home during the holidays, but I didn’t know how much it would actually affect me. I had been in the country for 2 weeks, and you can imagine how crazy those two weeks were. It’s physically, mentally, emotionally, and digestively (tee hee) draining moving halfway around the world by yourself.

UB City and my apartment did a good job of trying to set the mood for the season. There were extravagant decorations up, and they blared Christmas Music over the house speakers for several weeks before (and a couple weeks after…) Christmas. For southwest Asia, it was a pretty passable winter wonderland. It definitely looked like Christmas. It even sounded like Christmas. On Christmas Eve, as I was walking around the mall pouting and feeling sorry for myself, one of my favorite Christmas songs ”Christmas in Dixie” by Alabama came on over the loud speakers. That’s when it hit me. It may look and sound like Christmas, but without family and friends and loved ones around, it sure didn’t feel like Christmas. All I could do at the time is sit down on a marble ledge, listen to Alabama sing about snowing in the pines, and tear up thinking about what I was missing out on back home.  There are certain expanses that email, phone calls, and even Skype can’t bridge. I learned the hard way that being away from loved ones on Christmas was one of those.

Luckily things picked up from there. There are two Target Expats that live in my same apartment building with their wives. Jayme and his wife Andrea, and Adam and his wife Lori, have been a life saver. They regularly feel sorry for me and invite me over for dinner or breakfast, or even deliver food right to me! They also let me tag along as the 3^rd or 5^th wheel when they have stuff planned, which is nice. We all went to what we thought was going to be an English speaking Christmas Eve Mass at a nearby church. Of course there was some miscommunication over the phone while confirming this, so the service was actually in Tamil, one of the local languages, which we didn’t understand a word of. It was still a neat experience though. For example, I saw my first life-sized nativity scene that featured a Santa Claus standing by the wise-men. Also, the introduction to one of their Christmas songs, as played by the house band, sounded note for note like a Credence Clearwater Revival song.  There was also a photographer from the Bangalore Times that took a particular liking to the 5 white people (especially the women) that were attending the Tamil mass. Unfortunately, we didn’t make the paper.



Fellow Targeteers Jayme (front right) across from his wife Andrea, and Adam (back right) across from his wife Lori.



Leaving the Church was an emotional experience in and of itself. There were beggars and people with extreme deformities lined up at the entrance of the church grounds, arms stretched out touching your legs asking for rupees or anything else you can give them. It’s a tough sight to see. But as we were waiting for our driver so we could leave, I saw one of the coolest things I have ever seen. We heard a “Ho, Ho, Ho” amongst the hustle and bustle of Christmas Eve Bangalore traffic and turned to see a man dressed in a full Santa costume drive by on the back of a moped. He made an abrupt left turn into the church area and got off beside the throngs of beggars lining the sidewalks. He proceeded to hand out candy to the poor and the children alike from a large sack he carried with him while being mobbed by the masses, the whole time belting out his Christmas greetings. For the second time that day, tears formed in my eyes, this time for a different reason. One of the most heart-warming acts of kindness I’ve ever witnessed.

Getting close.

After the short ride home the five of us sat around drinking hot chocolate and one by one we went around the circle, each of us telling the others about our favorite Christmas traditions, our favorite holiday memories, and re-hashing our favorite gifts of all time. An awesome way to cap off a wonderful evening.

Getting closer.

Christmas morning came and instead of running downstairs to look at my stocking and open presents to the smell of fresh baked bread and a pumpkin pie in the oven like the previous 27 years of my life, I awoke by myself in an apartment with one single Christmas decoration that my mom had insisted I bring with me. But the experiences of the previous night still coursed freshly through my memory, so I was encouraged. Plus, the Arezzos and the Vander Poels had invited me over for Christmas brunch. I spent the morning watching what Christmas specials I could find on Indian cable until the food was ready. I walked into a wonderful and delicious spread of French toast, bacon, fresh fruit, and even mimosas. It was by far the best meal I had experienced at that point in India. After brunch we relaxed and watched the Vikings game that Jayme was able to record on his computer from the night before, and hooked up to the TV. If I didn’t know better, I could have very easily been back in Kansas or Minnesota at that point.

Getting closer….

That night, we were invited to dinner by someone that Andrea and Lori had met while volunteering. She was originally from Colorado, but had met and Indian fellow while in the country on business and ended up marrying him and moving here. This was her first Christmas in India as well, and wanted to show her husband what an American Christmas was like. So we trekked out to their little 20 acre farm outside the city. The grounds were beautiful, as was the house. They even had several horses in stables out back. The house was full of big game that Shashisherican goodies. It was delicious. ot as excited about that one, but it was still American food!) spinach salad, amongst other (the husband) had shot and had stuffed. There was everything from leopards to bears to wild boar, even an elephant trunk and feet. (there was supposedly a story about how each of these animals had attacked or killed someone, so they call him to come take care of them. Otherwise it would be illegal. I doubt the legitimacy of this somewhat.) 

We sat outside around a campfire for a couple hours, eating delicious appetizers and drinking wine. There were probably nearly 30 people there, an interesting mix of Indians, Canadians, maybe even a couple Australians, and Americans. But everyone was extremely friendly, and we were having a great time. Finally, dinner was ready around 10 or 10:30, which isn’t uncommon in India. I was curious to see what dinner would consist of, but I was very pleasantly surprised when they set gigantic plates full of ham, scalloped potatoes, broccoli salad (not as excited about that one, but it was still American food!) spinach salad, and sweet potatoes,  amongst other American goodies. It was delicious. Not to mention the amazing spread of pies, cookies, and other American tasty desserts.

I was feeling pretty refreshed by then. I had just had a nice American meal in a beautiful residence decorated like Christmas, I was surrounded by what felt like old friends (of at least two weeks), and new friends alike, laughing and sharing stories of Christmas past, and hearing others’ adventures in India. Then Martha, who had invited 5 strangers from Minnesota into her home for Christmas, got up to give a speech. (Stealing from Adam and Lori’s blog for accuracy), she said “Thank you to each of you for being here and how wonderful an opportunity it is to "embrace the differences in all gathered" to accept one another in all our glorious, unique differences, representing worlds of people gathered at one table.”

There it was.

It finally felt like Christmas to me. Sure, I may have been half a world away from my comfort zone, and nothing will ever beat Christmases at Hill Top Farm and River View Farm no matter what happens in my life. However, I was sitting in a room with people who were celebrating “American” Christmas for the first time, and whose religious beliefs don’t line up with mine. But aside from religious beliefs, Christmas is about giving to each other. It’s about human beings whose paths may never cross again but for that one night, sitting down and sharing their time and warmth with those across and next to them. It’s about inviting near strangers into your home to show your new family how you celebrate to bridge that gap between cultures and religions. It’s about finding genuine goodness in all of God’s creations.  That’s exactly what I found half a world away.

Amidst the insanity and chaos that India had brought to my life at that point, it had also provided something very special and unexpected. Not something that came in the form of a visit from three ghosts, or sleighbells, or reindeer, or Old St. Nick, but in the form of genuine kindness and humanity. It brought me a renewed sense of Christmas spirit. Hopefully one that I’ll never forget.

MTV Cribs - India

I’ve been asked by lots of people about my living accommodations. Honestly, I wish I had some sort of exciting story about how I live in a Swiss Family Robinson type tree-house, or how I have to fight to keep the monkeys from coming in my windows. Truth is, that’s just not the case. I live in probably the nicest apartment building in Bangalore called The Oakwood Premier Prestige, in the most “westernized” area of the city. The floors are made of marble, the furnishings and appliances are top notch, and I have about 900 sf of space to myself, which is unheard of in India. I even have in-unit laundry, which would put me in .5% that enjoy that luxury. When I bought a bag of laundry detergent and looked on the back to see how much to use, the only directions they had was for doing laundry in a bucket of water.  I have an amazing pool area where I spend much of my weekends, as well as a top of the line workout facility. There is a spa on the 12^th floor, but I have yet to take advantage of their services. I’m not much of a seaweed wrap kind of guy. I won’t divulge how much it costs to live there per month (luckily I’m not paying for it), but I will say that if I were paying that much in Minnesota I would expect to live in Ricky Rubio’s pool house and have Jared Allen feed me grapes while Joe Mauer fans me with a palm leaf.



This is my pool. Very nice! (in a Borat voice)



It's somewhat frustrating, especially being a construction guy, becasue it was poorly constructed. But you get used to that quickly in India, as workmanship is generally very poor. I'm sure there will be a whole nother (there's that word again!) post about just that in the future.

If I am allowed one major complaint about my living situation, it would be the noise. I know this makes me sound like an 80 year old man who bangs on the ceiling with a broomstick, and I’ve been on the receiving end of a noise complaint or two (“Next time I have to come up here it will be with the Denver Police Department” comes to mind…), but man it can be noisy. Mostly because of my new least favorite bar in the world. The Sky Bar. The Sky Bar is an “exclusive” dance club (and I say exclusive because you have to pay a ridiculous cover and can’t get in unless you are accompanied by a female….or so I’ve heard, never been there myself) on the rooftop of the building next to mine that just blasts music until all hours of the night. Actually it’s only until 11:30 because that’s when bars close here. But still, seven nights a week I have to listen to it. If it’s not the Sky Bar, it’s the band in the amphitheater. If that’s my only complaint though, I’d say I’ve got it pretty good.



Stupid Sky Bar. How I loathe thee.



The area I live in is called UB City. It’ a development built by the UB Group, which is a company that owns Kingfisher Beer, Kingfisher Airlines, and has their hands in numerous other things from fertilizer to Formula 1 racing. There is a high end mall in the development that houses stores such as Luis Vuitton, Versace, Rolex, etc. All I know is that I can’t afford anything at any of the stores, except a haircut. I got a haircut for 10 US dollars, and when I told people how much I paid, they thought it was ridiculous. Apparently you can get a haircut for $1 around here….but I think I’ll try to avoid those places.

Right outside one window is an amphitheater that is home to concerts and shows every weekend. Outside my other window (I have a corner unit) is a courtyard that sits in the shadow of the UB Group Headquarters building, and it houses 8-10 restaurants ranging from Indian, Italian, French, Japanese, and Mediterranean cuisines, just to name a few.  And a Subway, in case I want to eat fresh.

I actually feel a little bit guilty about how nice I have it compared to the rest of the country. Driving the streets and looking at the houses and apartment buildings that typical Indian residents live in, it would be appalling to most Americans. But again, it’s just part of life for them. That’s what they’re used to, and they are able to thrive in that environment. Lower class construction laborers typically live in tents or crude shelters erected somewhere near their job-sites. The poverty level is very high you see a lot of sad stuff here. Homeless people in the US live like kings compared to homeless people in India. When I got a visit from my good friend Branden Comfort who was in the country on a school "field trip", he said that for part of his project he had to spend time in a slum in Mumbai that was actually built in a landfill. The people literally lived on a pile of trash. When you see and hear things like that, it can take a lot out of you mentally and emotionally, but it’s a reality that you have to deal with when you spend any amount of time in this country.

The tin shacks are where the workers live on a neighboring job-site. These are considered high quality accomodations for workers in India.

Nothing like ending a blog post on a depressing note! So I'll take this opportunity to ask for suggestions for future posts. Any ideas from my faithful readers (all 3 of you)?

Levis Take Us, Numbers, Dude-you’re on me

Those of you who know me well are used to my sense of humor. You know I’m very sarcastic, and find some things hilarious or clever that others would find corny or weird. I realize that, and I’m fine with it.

Example A: the titles of my first three blog posts. Genesis and Exodus are rather self-explanatory, but in order to create my own Pentateuch (go ahead and look it up, I’ll wait), I had to stretch this title a little bit. Deal with it.

But what it does give us is an opportunity for the first fun facts edition of my blog! Exciting, I know. First of all, to explain the title a little bit:

-          “Levis Take Us” (Leviticus…get it?) refers to buying jeans. If you buy a pair of jeans at the Levis store, the will take them in for free. Tailoring (as long as you can entertain yourself for 20-30 minutes) is free with the purchase of the jeans

-          “Dude you’re on me” (Deuteronomy, duh) – Even though homosexual rights aren’t recognized in India, it is very common to see men walking down the street holding hands or with their arms around one another. I was extremely confused when I saw this until someone explained to me that it’s a sign of friendship.   I’m wondering how I’d react if that happened to me at some point while I’m here. Hopefully I’ll be able to avoid that situation…

India by the numbers

-          Population of India -    1.2+ Billion people. That’s 16% of the entire globe. 3x the population of the United States.

-          Population of Bangalore-   8.5 Million People. That is:

o   A few hundred thousand more than New York City

o   25 times more than the City of Minneapolis

o   3 times more than the Minneapolis/St. Paul Metro Area

o   162 Manhattan, Kansas-es

o   15260 Little River, Kansas-es

o   Despite the immense population, I know of only 2 buildings over 15 stories tall.



Cows grazing on trash.



Other random fun facts and observations:

-          Cows

o   There are about 200 million cows in India.

o   India is the only country to have a Bill of Rights for Cows

o   Cows are sacred in India, and are not to be harmed, and are often dressed up. We put sweaters on dogs, they put fancy hats on cows.

o   I don’t look twice anymore when I see a cow on the side of the road in the middle of the city, or grazing on a pile of trash somewhere. It’s an everyday occurrence.

-          Bathrooms

o   The first bathroom was said to have been invented in India 4500 years ago. Their technology hasn’t advanced since then….

o   Traditionally, Indians view using toilet paper as unsanitary. Beside all toilets, there are hoses that they use to clean themselves using that and their left hands. Therefore, they don’t eat with their left hands. Gross, I know.

-          Food

o   From my own observations, it appears that around 50% of Indians are vegetarian. However, many people that claim to be vegetarian will eat fish, and sometimes chicken.

o   Really, I don’t know how to start describing the food, as I rarely have any idea what exactly I’m eating. Curry with chunks of other stuff is how I best describe it.

o    Each region of India has its own specialties (33 different regional cuisines to be exact), but it is more traditionally broken down into North Indian and South Indian. Even residents of India have trouble explaining the difference between the two.

o   I have yet to have a traditional Indian dessert that I have liked. They use a lot of ginger in their cakes, and it’s tough for me to stomach more than a bite or two. But if someone brings something to work, you’re seen as rude if you don’t accept it. You have to be creative with how you dispose of it. I had what I thought was a donut hole one time, but when i bit into it, it oozed some syrup like substance. I almost lost my curry.

o   Luckily, I’ve found a couple of restaurants (mostly Italian restaurants) that serve a passable beef tenderloin. However, finding beef on the menu at a normal Indian restaurant would be nearly impossible.

o   There is also a Hard Rock Café that I have yet to try, but hear it’s good if you’ve got a craving for a burger.

Think that’s about it for this post. But don’t fret; there will be more Fun Facts posts in the future. Have a question about anything specific? Let me know in the comments!

Namaste

Exodus

After accepting the position, the next natural question was “when am I going?”

The answer, “as soon as possible.”

Oh. So you’re saying I should probably get a passport then. It’s true. I had never been out of the country before. Quit laughing.

I was a little relieved when I found out it would take at least a month and a half to two months to get my passport and employment visa stuff worked out, so at least the “as soon as possible” didn’t mean the next week. But I think that’s when the whole thing started to seem real. I needed to prepare myself to leave my life as I knew it behind for six months.

One fun thing about the two months leading up to my departure was getting to practice a bucket list. Sure, it’s not like a bucket list before you die, but when you know you’re not going to have certain things available to you for 6 months, you want to pack as much in as you can. It was then that I realized how much my life revolves around food and beer. My bucket list pretty much consisted of restaurants I wanted to go to and throwing happy hours/going away parties. Now that I think of it, I can’t think of anything else that was even on my bucket list. If you knew that all of the finer comforts in life would be taken away from you for six months, what would you do?

Another thing I got a kick out of was the different reactions I got when people found out I was moving to India. They ranged from, “are you crazy!?” to “Oh, I’m so jealous” to blank stares to apathy to shock to my favorite coming from my dad “you realize that’s a whole nother country, right?”.   It was fun to see how different people viewed the opportunity. Some were very predictable with their reactions, and some were surprising. (side note: maybe it’s a Kansas thing, I don’t know, but I feel like I use the phrase “a whole nother” a lot. The red squiggly line under it is trying to tell me that “nother”  isn’t a word. Until I right click and say “add to dictionary. Take that, Merriam Webster.) 

Anyways, those two months flew by and before I knew it, it was time to leave. Packing didn’t take much time, as I only got two suitcases and a carry on to take with me. I think my hardest decision there was whether or not I could make room for a pair of cowboy boots (which didn’t make the cut). I did get a pearl snap in the mix, though.

If anything could ease my apprehension at that time, it was for sure sitting in business class on the flights. I always walk by the people sitting in first/business class on my way to coach and automatically label them as smug, rich pricks. Holy cow, people can call me a smug prick all they want, it’s worth it. On my plane from Chicago to Frankfort, Germany, I had my own little pod, completely separated from the person next to me. I had my own 20” TV screen where I could watch my choice of movie or TV show on the way. My seat reclined all the way where I could be completely horizontal if I wanted to, which made sleeping a breeze. The stewardess offered all sorts of neat stuff all the time, and I enjoyed “gourmet” food and wine the entire flight. That’s how flying should be! It made the inter-continental legs of my trip seem much shorter. And before I knew it, the wheels touched down in India.

Here we go……