4 days until Santa comes

Due to the nature of the schedule at Woodstock School, holidays are celebrated about a month in advance. Thanksgiving chapel was the end of October. Chirstmas chapel was the end of November. There's been a house on the top of the mountain with a Christmas tree decorated for well over a month. It's kind of nice, but it's all anti-climatic anyway. Thanksgiving without turkey? Christmas without a gathering of family bearing more and more children each year that I can no longer keep track of the baby names? No thank you.

The school year is coming to a close with four more days of teaching Junior School (senior school is in exam week). Then on Friday-Santa Breakfast! I hear this is a jolly time where the 6th graders dress up like elves and serve breakfast. The event is capped off with a visiting of Santa bearing gifts for all of the students. Then we are free until the 13th-staff banquet (which I am in charge of decorating for due to my judgment of error that put me on the staff social comittee) and finally, the closing staff meeting on the 14th.

After the final meeting, my friends and I are loading a taxi and getting the heck out of here. I imagine us singing Christmas carols or party rock the whole ride to Delhi, throwing up a peace sign, see ya later Mussoorie...

Our ventures will then proceed to Rajasthan, Goa, Mumbai, Malaysia, Cambodia, and finally Thailand before flying back to Calcutta in the end of January. Excited? What an understatement.

A reflection on the past semester is due, but I don't think I'm ready to chalk up the wins and loses of the year. I'll just try to make it through the next few days of junior school PE without the gym (due to exams) and wait for Santa to bring me something wonderful...

21 km of Indian Men

This past weekend, the Woodstock Running Team composing of 7 staff and 7 students took on the Delhi half marathon. We were a mix of Americans, Indians, Nepalese, Canadians, and a couple Germans-we were a running melting pot. I was pretty excited to experience what running a half marathon would be like in India. Luckily, there wasn’t a full marathon option because it was clear that training would not be a priority when I arrived at Woodstock School. My runs were few and far between, but I was really banking on the altitude and mountains to give me the upper hand.

From race packet pick-up to receiving my medal, the whole experience was better than I imagined. Things that are still interesting but are becoming less surprising is the separation of men and women. For example, we arrived at the race to find there were separate entrances for men and women. This is pretty common in India as you walk through a security scanner and get patted down immediately following when entering some malls, movie theaters, or tourist attractions. We get into the Nehru Stadium, and we made finding a bathroom our first priority. Next thing you know we are stumbling upon men and women segregated porta-potties. This would normally be a bad thing as men are much quicker, but when the ratio of men to women is about 10:1, this wasn’t the worst part of our day. Unfortunately, this being a race full of first-timers, the line did not move very quickly as people were unaware of the demand for bathrooms pre-race. As race time neared, the segregation ended, and I saw men in the women’s lines.

We entered the gate for the start and managed to find some more members of our group. I began to look around me to scope out the competition. It was clear that many of these people had never run 21 km before. I saw people carrying bags, wearing jeans, and simply looking unfit. There were obviously exceptions to this rule, but when people were walking before we got to the 1km marker sign, I knew I was in for a lot of weaving and dodging in the race.

The race was an out and back course, which made it exciting to look for my friends on the other side. I saw the leaders go by in a pack of Kenyans. Then there were some Indians, and before I knew it, I saw my friend Jay-probably the second white guy to pass by since the leaders. I was so happy for him, and I felt motivated. I began the race conservatively, but when I realized that I was in better shape than I thought, I started to switch gears.

The course was well marked, had an appropriate amount of water stations, and had entertainment as well-all things one would expect from a large city marathon. The thing that was the strangest was the people along the streets. I would call them fans, but the looks on their faces expressed otherwise. Most of the people on the streets would simply stare silently as thousands of runners passed by. There was some cheering now and then, but it was rare. Even when I would see my friends on the other side of the course heading the opposite direction of me, I’d let out a holler and felt like people thought I was an insane white lady.

I finished the race in 2:07. I was pretty happy with the time as I felt incredibly unprepared. The trouble is that now I think I should train for a full marathon because I wouldn’t have to work so hard. I should really look at it like, wow what an opportunity to succeed. Instead I see this as a way to complete marathons with minimal work.

someone funnier than me with a similar experience

http://katieverickson.blogspot.com/

Check out the blog of my fellow Badger and Indian roommate: Katie!

missing something

While Woodstock school has shown me lots of ups and downs since I arrived, I am finding myself becoming more satisfied each day. Since my arrival, I had plenty of, "what am I doing here?" moments. I didn't expect to adjust over night to living in India, but I think I pictured a much more dynamic and fulfilling life here.

I would never admit to be anything less than happy here because I know so many people thought coming here was crazy or just plain stupid. Maybe it was, but it's still too soon to say. I have a new emotion every hour about this place. Will I stay three years? Will I make it through the semester? Would I like a different job in the school more than my current one? Should I move to Thailand and get a real salary? Maybe America is calling me home?

I knew I'd miss my family and friends, sure. I just hoped that I would find such happiness here that I wouldn't be brought down by it. The trouble is that whenever I find myself struggling with adjusting, I think about my family. This creates a landslide of emotion. Now, I'm not just sad about the situation of my life, but I'm missing the people I love too.

What this place lacks in terms of making me truly happy is undetermined. I've talked about this up, down, in, out, and all around with Katie. There's just something that's not here that we had before. Perhaps, it's the stress of our first year teaching in a new country at a school unlike any school we have ever worked in or seen in action. Maybe it's the lack of freedom you feel in a country where you have to rely so heavily on others. It could be the suffocating environment of a boarding school in the mountains of India. We might be discovering that teaching isn't really our calling after all. Missing our families could be weighing us down so heavily that we can't make new families here. Maybe India isn't all we cracked it up to be...

Miss Shannon: My leg is paining. I'm feeling pukish.

This has been a crazy month. After quarter break, I was welcomed back to campus with parent/teacher conferences. Then immediately following that was the 1500 meter races, Interhouse, and Interschool Sports Day. It involved a lot of organized chaos for about three weeks of my life. Sports Day=Track and Field. I know what you might be thinking, "Shannon loves T&F, sounds awesome." I won't bore you with the nonsense that is sports at Woodstock school, but I'll just say that it was not the scene you're imagining.

After the final day of Interschool competition at the neighboring school, I was nothing short of relieved. This past week was Activity Week. The students head out on various adventures throughout the country. The older grades do hikes and such. I was paired up with the 4th graders. Our adventures entailed touring around Mussoorie and learning the history of the place. I was actually pretty excited about this assignment for several reasons.
1. No teaching for a week.
2. The 4th graders are awesome.
3. I would learn about the place I call home.
4. The 4th grade teacher is a ducks in a row kind of person, and I knew I had nothing to worry about.

I had a glorious time trekking around with the 4th graders. They are a very endearing group, but by the end of the week, I was ready for a 4th grade break. Highlights from the trip include: getting back to school and finding out the taxi we passed had pulled over so Rishabh could puke, seeing a stuffed tiger, riding the cable car in Mussoorie, a tour of the hotel Rokeby, and having students eat a smore mere minutes afrer discovering what a marshmallow was.

jumping off a train and landing at a wonder of the world

Quarter break was like waiting for Santa to come on Christmas morning. It couldn't come soon enough, and the odds were pretty good that you would get at least one thing you requested from Santa.

After a mild set back in the acquiring of our taxi, we were on our way. We were full of dreams and aspirations when we got to Dehradun to catch our train to Dehli.

I could not wait to get out of the Woodstock walls and head to the city. Despite getting to the train station and realizing half of the train was woodstock, I kept my hopes high. We did some mild street performing that involved me doing the worm on some dirty sidewalk with an audience of Indian men all for the sake of 10 rupees.

We boarded the train and started to situate ourselves for the journey. Then, as luck would have it, I realized I was actually seated next to a student. Luckily, he was not in a class of mine, nor would he ever be since he was a senior. This gave me hope that he would not pick up on the crazy that is my life when I'm not Miss Shannon.

We arrived in Dehli and with a combination of rickshaw and motorcycle got transported to our free accommodations. A friend of ours brother lives in Dehli and was generous enough to allow four crazy Americans to sleep on his floor. We crashed pretty quickly as our train to Agra was leaving around 6 am the next morning.

Our next train adventure was a little more adventuresome than the previous... As we were pulling into one of the stations, Ingrid questioned whether this was our stop. Anwar assured us that this was not. There weren't too many people getting off the train, so it seemed logical. Then as the train is starting to depart, Anwar decides this is in fact our stop. We gathered our belongings and scurried to the door. I had to turn back because I realized Lindsay's hair band got left behind. Even more comical, it was actually wrapped around her seat somehow. This was all happening as the train is slowly leaving the station. Moments later, we all had successfully jumped off a moving train.

The retelling of this story is pretty comical and unrealistic depending on who the storyteller is and who the audience is. All you need to know is that I jumped off a moving train and have now acquired the status of bad ass.

We then spent the day with our cleverly-master-of-the-taj-photo-shoot tour guide. He told us some what I assume and hope are detailed facts about the Taj Mahal. His most valuable skill was his aggressiveness when it came to demanding that we take all of these made for post card tourist photos. He rocked.

He was awesome, but he couldn't quite get the timing right on this one.

No, I don't know him.

 Tourists

 Ready, set..... fail.

We may have all felt like this at one point or another...

waking up in India

the sound of what I'd compare to crickets, dogs barking, and the sounds of children in the distance... I don't hear or notice the honking horns anymore.

I never imagined my life to be like this when I moved to India. I'm still not even sure I'm in India.

There are plenty of things about my life that are nearly the same as my American life:
I depend heavily on the internet, and I manage to waste plenty of time on it.
I get to eat ice cream and cheese to a slightly excessive extent.
I hang out with friends, eat out, and watch an illegally downloaded movie from time to time.
I walk around wearing Under Armour wishing they would sponsor me and my Physically Educating lifestyle.

Things that are so very different from my previous life:
I spent my Saturday hiking around the mountains with 5th/6th graders. The car ride back was radioless but filled with 6th grade boys belting out Justin Beiber hits.
I have to put my favorite things in a closet with a light bulb so they don't get moldy.
I have to pretend to pick up and throw rocks at monkeys on walks to school and hope they don't call my bluff.
I have to teach kids of all ages how the classic game of kickball works.
I keep my short-shorts in a drawer and only wear them in the comforts of my own home.
I can't avoid running uphill.
People stare at me (and not just in the oh my god, what is Shannon wearing today kind of staring). Some want to take my picture. Some want to hold my hand in said picture.
I live about 800 meters from many of my students. I get all of my groceries delivered to my home.
I also have a nice woman who cleans my house and cooks for me a couple times a week.
I live and work in a place that is more gossipy and small town than my hometown of Silver Lake, MN (pop. 761).
I go out to the bazaar and am guaranteed to see students, staff, employees, and be recognized by the local tailor who is dying for my business. The grocer knows my name, where I live, and the cornflakes I like.

trying to stay afloat in a monsoon

Sometimes, I talk about India like it's my arch-nemesis. The final straw was when I was walking home from a slightly unpleasant dept meeting that lasted from 6-about 8pm on a Thursday night. I was minding my business, listening to my ipod, and out of nowhere, my ankle rolls on the footpath. I wanted to scream out, "F*** YOU INDIA!"

A few weekends ago, I was looking for a different outfit to head out to the bazaar in. As I was rummaging, I started to find moldy clothes. A moldy cardigan, a moldy bra, and my black boots were even growing cultures. FU India.

Just yesterday, my roommate pointed out that my graduation photo album was also growing mold. FU India.

Anytime I'm out walking in the bazaar, and I keep hearing endless honking... FU India.

When did this become normal?

Last night I was walking home from the bazaar with Linds and Ingrid, and I was like, hold the phone. We were walking on a single lane road on the side of a mountain with no lights of any kind. Never in my life would I advise this to anyone, yet alone a pack of white girls in India. When did this become normal?

Things have been going. I find joy and happiness in many things here, but I wouldn't say that it's how I imagined my life in India to be.

Here's how most of my mornings start-This is the Junior School lining up in the quad before assembly. You'll notice me in the back looking incredibly enthused.

We also recently had interhouse cross country. On this day, all the kids in the school race to represent their houses. I am a Merlin, and despite us coming in last place, I am still proud to be a Merlin. After IH cross country, we have interschool cross country, which is comparable to the conference cc meet. Since we have no season and no state competition, this is it. While some kids train and enjoy running, most of the kids on the team had the unfortunate luck of finishing in the top ten at interhouse and were forced on the team.


Here are a few borrow pictures from interhouse cross country-Go Merlins (red t-shirts)!

Merlins, Condors, and Eagles awaiting their races...

Officials, looking official

Look how fast those little legs can go!

some of my favorite students

The 6th grade boys with minimal false starts

big deal

I was heading out my door this morning to come open the gym at 6:30 am, and I look out the door and see a monkey party on my porch. If I had to say, there were probably about 15 monkeys just hanging out. Big ones, little ones, red ones, green ones. Monkeys everywhere. I just made sure to open the door extra loudly, and they carried on with their lives.

A friend of mine had his house trashed by monkeys one afternoon. They had a nice time destroying his kitchen and eating anything they could get their hands on.

One evening, I was eating dinner with the cross country team near the top of the mountain. We were all relaxing and having a good time. Then we saw this huge monkey going in the window of someone's house above one of the restaurants. We all started gesturing wildy and tried to communicate with anyone who would listen. Moments later we heard some screams, and the monkey hopped back out the window as an Indian woman followed behind waving her arms. She closed the window.

I try to take the attitude that they can sense fear-like dogs. I go about my business. I don't act afraid. I don't scream or run. This works most of the time... One time I was walking with one of my friends, and I saw a gang of monkeys ahead. No worries, be cool. I keep walking, but this time the monkeys aren't running. This was a narrow dirt path on the side of a cliff, by the way. As I got closer, the mama came at me and was making some weird hissing noises. I was like-oh shit. Scream. Run. My friend, being logical, picked up a rock, and the monkeys scattered.

I've seen monkeys destroying bulletin boards, sneaking into offices, and trapping tourists to get food. I knew there would be monkeys when I came, but I didn't know there would be such clever monkeys that are up to no good running around.

Muffler burn, 7 restaurants, and the Ganges

This past weekend I went on an adventure with a couple dear friends to Rishikesh. We left early Saturday morning with minimal planning and huge outlooks. This may have been due to the fact that we had a native male, Anwer, in our group to navigate, translate, and protect our white girl selves. It was very satisfying to know that we would not encounter the same problems our other friends had experienced on their outings: getting ripped off, not knowing where the bus was, or just being confused. We were golden.

We took a cab around 6 am from Woodstock to the bazaar to catch a bus. We soon decided a cab to Dehardun would be a better option. Shortly after we were in Dd and hopped on a bus to Rishikesh. By 10:30 we were in Rish. We were quite hungry due to not eating breakfast before we left, so we stopped for brunch at an over-priced white people hot spot (restaurant 1). We began to wander around the city. Lots of ideas were being thrown out in the air. One idea was renting a motorcycle for the day. While this seemed like an awesome idea, I never imagined it to take hold. I was simply along for the ride and had no needs for the trip.

 The view from the back of our hotel-no big deal.

Anwer began to do most negotiations without our presence. This could have been due to the fact that white people scream: rip me off. Or maybe he thought we were the most useless negotiators or decision makers in India. It’s hard to say. This approach worked well. We soon had a hotel room for 400 rupees (~$8), a rented motorcycle for the day 500 rupees, and a plan for the day: cruise around and laugh at pedestrians, ha. 

We began cruising along the Ganges and enjoying the view. Well, the fun was about to stop. We cruised by a police force on the side of the road and heard a whistle blow. I was like, oh crap, the white people aren’t allowed on motorcycles. Oh no, turns out that you can’t have three people on a bike. Even though I had seen way more than three people on several bikes and mopeds, and Anwer never mentioned this when we were planning. I didn’t even know there were laws in India for crying out loud. 

 Note the Background

Well soon into this encounter, when I realized I wasn’t going to get deported, it became incredibly comical. Anwer was smooth talking his way out of the situation and apparently giving advice to one of the officers about his son’s schooling. 100 rupees later we were free. Right when we were about to depart, another group of white suckers got pulled over for the same thing. They probably ended up paying much more money for their stupidity. We drove on.

After awhile, we decided we needed real lunch. We cruised around and finally found a spot. As traffic in India is a cluster, our pulling in on the sidewalk was a bit of a jumble. The result was me getting burnt by the muffler of the bike. We ate a lovely amount of India cuisine as my leg was sizzling skin off. We cruised around a bit more, made some stops, and ended at the Honey Hut (restaurant 3). There’s really no American equivalent to this place. It had tons of treats, coffees, and sold clothes. The workers all sported NY Yankee baseball caps. I didn’t hold it against them because it was such a cozy spot to hang out. We had some shakes, smoothies, and coffee. We carried on our way. We did some more driving around and more photo stops. We did some more window shopping and stopped for sodas at the Yellow Pepper (restaurant 4). It was obvious that the heat was taking a bigger toll on us than imagined due to our previous damp world. We were dehydrated and sun burnt. We had some lime sodas and enjoyed more glorious views. 

 Life on a motorcycle in India

We sat on some stairs in the Ganges. We watched men break rocks. We watched people. We had more tea (restaurant 5), and enjoyed more glorious views. Linds got her palm read, bought an elephant, and asked how much everything was. Then we had dinner at Lucky Restaurant (restaurant 6). This was the restaurant of the hotel. At this point of the day, we were covered in sweat and filth from driving around the mountains all day. We did some hosing off and enjoyed one final bike ride and Ganges stair sitting before returning the bike. Then we ended the night with a stop at Café Coffee Day for treats (restaurant 7). In what was a coma of exhaustion and food overload, we rested well listening to the sound of the Ganges just a stone’s throw away. 

Another day in the life…

As my life becomes more enjoyable, easier to laugh at, and slightly less stressful, I find it appropriate to give another glimpse at the joys and sorrows of life in Mussoorie.

I’ll take the oreo cookie sandwich approach. This is a teaching method in which you surround negative with positives to make a situation appear better despite its awful appearance.

A blessing fell from the heavens today. I had been having some difficulty with my sixth grade class. Let me paint the picture for you. I have both sixth grade sections at one time. That means 36 students in the gym at one time. Without knowing names, language abilities, or personality clashes, this class has been my constant battle. It takes every ounce of energy I have to maintain a class that is not absolute chaos and madness. Hearing that other people had concerns with the 6^th graders eased my pain slightly, but it didn’t make it less stressful. After calmly, or quite directly, stating my concerns at a junior school staff meeting, an angel has come to help me along. It was decided that we would take out nine of the kids at a time to do the rock climbing wall with one of the rock climbing staff. This man will add a year to my life, and he has no idea. This does however create a whole new problem. Now, I will have nine kids missing class material every day. Awesome. So life goes on.

My schedule in the senior school has remained less than ideal. By a freak chance of nature, I saw one class for the first time today and had to assess their soccer skills. Umm, what. The third week into school should not be a time for first meetings. Thanks Woodstock.

The monsoon varies from easy peasy to are you kidding me in seconds. Every now and then the monsoon slaps me in the face for my “easy peasy” thoughts. For example, this morning the rain was horrible. I had gymnastics club at 7:15. I planned on getting to school early to do a bit of work before it, but then I saw the rain. I had little hope that anyone would show up for gymnastics, but I pressed on anyway. I wore sandals, my rain coat over my backpack, shorts, and carried an umbrella. I was preparing for battle, and the rain won. I felt like I was on the Oregon Trail fording rivers left and right. I kept fearing that I would lose an oxe or worse my backpack down one of the streams. I even had to go the long way because there was so much rain pouring down the stairs of death.

While it’s been raining on my parade and my schedule has been craptacular, I have been finding peace and joy in many things here at Woodstock. As mentioned, the people here are some of the most amazing people to grace this planet. I’m beginning to pick out favorite students, and I hope I’m becoming someone’s favorite as well. The cross country team, despite its lack of consistency or care, brings a smile to my face and calmness after a long day. Every now and then we even see the sun at the top of the mountain where we run. It’s almost as if God’s giving me a reward for trekking up the mountain after a morning workout and six classes of teaching.

The gymnastics clubs have been bringing me other kinds of happiness. I had left the field long ago, but I have found myself in a situation to give these kids an outlet that they need. I teach junior school after school on Tuesdays with some senior school “helpers,” and I teach senior school club before schools on Tuesdays. These kids want to learn everything. Can I teach you how to do a flip? Well, let’s focus on a cartwheel first pal. Let’s try flips maybe next year…  

What are you looking at?

My Indian Independence

A group of Midwestern folk (with the exception of our coastie friend Rebecca) celebrating India's Independence.

Jay, Me, Linds, Katie, Rebecca, Ingrid, Jason

It doesn't get much cuter than this.

 

The 15th of August, normally celebrated as move-in day in Madison was instead celebrated as a day of feasting and celebrating at Woodstock School.

Indian Independence day brought a day off from school with an assembly and huge food buffet. Unfortunately it rained on our buffet, almost as bad as raining on a parade, but the giant tarps over the quad saved us and our feast.

A day in the life

To truly understand this place, you need to live it.

I wake up most mornings around six and head on about a 15 minute hike straight up the mountain to the gym. Depending on my workload, I either hit up the fitness room for about an hour, or I plan. Every Wednesday, I have fitness room duty from 6:30-7:30 am. Every Tuesday, I work with the senior school gymnastics club. After my workout, I shower and start prepping. On Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I go to the senior school assembly from 8:30-9. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I go to the junior school assembly from 8:30-9. Being a "special," means I get the best and worst of both the senior school and junior school.

I begin teaching senior school at 9 am. Most of my junior school classes are after lunch. In the 6 period day, I have 5-6 classes every day. On all days, except one, I have at least an hour for lunch, which is a nice luxury when teaching six full classes a day. School ends at 3:45. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, I help coach cross country. On Tuesdays, I teach junior school gymnastics. Then depending what my energy level is, there is staff gym night on Mondays and Weds from 6-8.

Three times a week, I return home to a nicely cleaned home from our ayah (maid). She also cooks for us twice a week. The only trouble is we're never home when she's there, and we have difficulty communicating with her. Even if she is just coming to fix my bed, it's still a nice luxury.

Evenings are filled with various social gatherings with the staff. Most nights are very relaxed and just involve pep talks to each other and venting. I have been truly blessed with knowing some amazing people here. We keep each other going when things seem to be hitting an Indian wall.

Some of the best advice I've gotten since arriving:
You can fight India, but it will fight back. It will fight back, and it will beat you down.

I find myself experiencing this fight often. There are rules and behaviors here that I simply don't understand.

While it's nice to be looked at and adored, constantly feeling like a parade whenever I'm in the bazaar is getting tiresome. Maybe it's because I sport my neon shoes, bright headbands, and white girl attitude.

My days are full of highs and lows.
10th grade boys soccer-low
10th grade girls fitness room-high
1/2 PE-high
6th grade unruly PE-low
8th grade racquets-eh
eating various sauces in various colors-eh
living a life of pe-high
working with students who are passionate about life, academics, and sports-high
having the best roomies India can offer-high
getting to walk down the mountain at the end of a long day seeing a clear sky and city lights at the bottom-high

puke and rally in Dehradun

Things have been moving along nicely at Woodstock. My schedule is almost complete. It is hardly ideal. At WS they run on 7-day-cycles. Most of the kids have PE 3 days/cycle. How the schedule is working out is leaving me with teaching some of those kids once/cycle. It is going to be incredibly difficult to learn names, assess, and just run a smooth unit with this kind of infrequency. So life goes on.

Last night was a social mixer for the younger staff. It was a good time. There was some dancing but mostly segregation of new staff and old staff. I'm sure as time progresses, they will let us in the exclusive circle. It was my first time drinking in India, and my first time hearing Lady Gaga-success.

This morning we headed to Dehradun to do some shopping to furnish our home. The school provides most basic things but takes most of it back in two months. This means buying everything from forks to bedding. I brought some of my favorite things, so I wasn't in too much of tough spot. I did buy a rug and some other miscellaneous decorative items. My main purchase last weekend was a washer/dryer. I just felt like there was no way I was sending my under armour gear to a dhobi to beat it on rocks and wait weeks for it to dry in the monsoon. No thank you.

So today meant more spending of money that should be saved for things like traveling or groceries. I also bought a couple kurtas from an Indian shop that I would compare to an H&M mixed with an Urban Outfitter. We got stuck in some severe traffic that resulted in us having to turn around in the middle of the road. We also got hit by a moped, but the real adventure was the drive down.

The drive from Mussoorie is about 30 km, and it declines about a mile in elevation. No big deal. Well, I had planned on taking some motion sickness pills before I left because I had been warned about the drive down being much worse than the drive up. I was fine on the way up, but I figured I should be prepared. Of course I forgot in the cluster of a breakfast of pancakes with ice cream and scrambled eggs with cheeeese. Well, shortly into the drive I realize my mistake. I was sitting in the far back with one of those seats that faces in, not forward. I started to feel a little woozy, but I thought I'd over power it...

I spent about 40 minutes focusing on not throwing up in the taxi. Once we got to our first stop I got out to get some air. I felt like throwing up more than ever before. After the banking crowd returned, Lindsay offered to go inside to the bathroom with me because I must of looked like I needed to throw up. We found our way through a bank full of Indian men to the bathroom. Indian bathrooms are not as clean as I'd like for throwing up, but you do what you gotta do. I managed to throw up my ice cream and pancakes, and of course, there's no toilet paper or paper towels or anything. It was a situation to say the least. I rinsed my face and mouth as best as I could without ingesting the bacteria-filled water of India. I used my dress to dry off. Then Lindsay came to the rescue with bottled water and gum. The rest of the ride was fantastic.

throw up in a bank in India: check

Indian Updates

Living life on a mountain in India certainly has its perks. While my salary is worse than working part-time at McDonald's in the states, it does allow me to live a fine life in India. We're currently in the process of hiring an ayah-someone to clean our house/possibly cook for us. This will cost me about $10 a month. I know, do I really need someone to clean up after me and cook my dinner? Of course not, but if this opportunity came in the states, it'd be hard to pass up. They encourage us to embrace the culture, so why not have someone do my dishes?

Another perk is the ability to have everything delivered to our door for about 50 cents or free! Just a bit ago, Katie and I ordered some groceries from the local grocer. Within 45 minutes we were feasting on ice cream with cookies and bananas. We even ordered some cheddar cheese, which was the most expensive thing on the list.

It's not all gumdrops and lollipops though. I do have to hike up 1000 ft to get to school. I have to make sure I don't get attacked by monkeys on my way. I also have to make sure my clothes and blankets don't get moldy from the monsoon.

India is full of surprises. I never imagined that I'd be eating ice cream and cookies that just got delivered. I also never imagined that I'd be teaching at the junior school (elementary). When I was hired, I was hired for middle school pe and health. Now as it turns out, I will be teaching no health, mostly junior school, and some senior school. It's India. You gotta roll with the punches.

I'm full of feelings of disappointment, excitement, and some sadness. I did go on my first run today to ease the pain. Ingrid and I got caught in a cloud and decided running on the road was no longer safe and headed back. As mentioned, the roads are crazy, but sometimes, I think they just get as close to hitting us as they can just to freak us out.

Congrats. I'm officially freaked out.

Monsooning

I've finally made it to Mussoorie and am slowly adjusting to this monsoon business. The first couple days I was calling the monsoon bluff because it was raining sure but never enough to rain on my parade. Today however... Since it's Saturday, we've been given a day of freedom. I woke up around seven and finished the book I was reading before getting out of bed. This whole time I was thinking, I should go read out on our terrace. I of course don't and by the time I get out of my bed, it's raining cats and dogs with no signs of stopping. What an ideal time to start raining when we had all these plans of heading to the bazaar to do shopping.

My badger loving friend Katie and I moved into Midland Duplex. It's right by the girl dorms, which isn't ideal. It's also about 1000 ft vertical climb to the school. The perks however, are quite nice. It's a 3-4 bedroom house with one bathroom, a dining room, and a spacious living room. Originally, it was just me and Katie, but we invited Rebecca to join us after her living situation was less than fitting. So now it's me-PE and two art teachers living next to a couple other American girls who have yet to return from their break. I foresee a lot of fun to be had.

Our first night here was an adventure of the sorts. Upon arrival we were given buddies to help us adjust and figure out life at altitude. Our buddy gave us some general directions to his home where we were supposed to join him and a few others for dinner. After a little nap, Katie and I headed in a daze of sorts in the direction we thought was correct. After lots of doubt and hesitation we turned around and threw in the towel. Upon returning, we checked out a map and realized we had taken the wrong road to start with. Now let me remind you, we are still trying to come over jet lag, figure out how to walk up 1000ft without passing out, navigate trails, adjust to the water and food, and making sure we don't get attacked by any monkeys-it's not like we just walked a couple blocks and gave up.

Last night, we were rewarded for our sorrows and misery with an invitation to Rebecca's buddy's home. They were a lovely Aussie couple with two kids. We had some Indian wine and dined to some delicious food that was a mix of American, Thai, and Indian. Then for dessert we had pineapple upside down cake. Delicious. The kindness shown to us by the returning staff has been life saving for sure.

Things I never expected living in the mountains of India
-Falling asleep to the sounds of dogs barking and cars honking... really? Dogs are abundant in this area, but we are encouraged not to pet them. The care honking is due to people driving up the mountain and warning whatever may be right around the curve: animal, pedestrian, or car.
-Eating corn flakes. When we got to our house, it was furbished with various things and a few staple groceries: corn flakes being one of them.
-Most things being in English. Thank god, I can't imagine what cornflakes would look like written in Hindi.
-Being able to teach in the coolest gym I have ever seen-Pictures coming soon. There's a rock wall, squash court, weight room, and a space reserved for some gymnastics. For real.

Welcome to India

I arrived at the Dehli International Airport on the 19th around 4 pm. After my new best friend Katie (proud Badger from Mt. Horeb, WI) and I collected our luggage, we cruised by what seemed to be an optional customs line. We were quickly greeted by two Woodstock School employees. Then our driver picked us up on the curb, and we headed to our hotel-The Centaur, which was within walking distance of the airport.

The five-star hotel we are staying at has a pool with no water. There are approximately 10 light switches in our room, but we still struggle to figure out how to turn the bathroom light on. We also had a toilet flushing situation within minutes of our arrival-push in, not up or down. We dined at the hotel's Chinese restaurant last night, which tasted very much like American Chinese.

This morning we headed to Dehli and Old Dehli. Due to "Indian Stretchable Time" we managed to the leave the hotel around 11 this morning. The drive up was truly an Indian experience. If there are lanes, no one uses them. I saw one person use their blinker, and everyone else uses their horn. Later in the day, I got to experience crossing a street without a crosswalk and encounter cars that run red lights just for fun. Once I reached the other side, I quickly remembered that motorcycles and rickshaws drive on the sidewalk when necessary. I almost got hit twice before I realized my mistake.

We toured the Red Fort, attempted to see the National Museum, and had lunch at Karim's-listed as one of the best restaurants in India by Time magazine. It was hot, the streets were packed, and everyone stared at us. I didn't make any purchases yet because I am too much of a newbie to attempt, and I'm not sure what I want to buy.

Tomorrow our bus is departing from the hotel around 5 am to take the train to Dehra Dun. Then we take a bus to Mussoorie. We found out that Katie and I will be roommates once we get there, which is exciting because we can Badger the place up.

I'm feeling dehydrated and sleepy, but I can't wait to get to Mussoorie!

3 down, 47 to go?

After my first marathon in Madison in 2009, I thought it was all pretty great. I was pretty sure that I could do this training gig all the time. What's a long run here and there? I decided that I would be one of those people who runs a marathon in every state. After my third marathon in my third state, I'm thinking maybe I'll settle for 26 marathons instead. Since I'm leaving the states in less than a month, it could be hard to get in all 50 states before I quit the habit. Yep, 26 marathons in 26 different cities, maybe different countries.

My first marathon was all on a whim. I really didn't know what I was doing or what I was getting myself into. I followed Hal's online training guide and got to work. I didn't think or care about nutrition. I just ran. I modified the plan as I saw fit. I never reached the full 20 miles Hal suggested, but I figured my active lifestyle would compensate for the 1.5 miles I missed.

Race day came, and I was excited. My training had me doing long runs around 10 min/mile. Race day excitement sent me out in 9:09 miles for the first five miles. I was feeling great! My half split wasn't too bad either with a 2:03:40. I was on my way to beating my goal pace. This was fantastic, or so I thought. Then around mile 21/22 things started to get a little hazy. My pace slowed down significantly, and I began walking for bits at a time. The problem was that walking hurt as much or more than running did. It was feeling like I had never felt in my life. I walked/ran the last couple miles and finished with a 4:22:18. I was pretty thrilled for a first time marathon. I ran in a cotton t-shirt for pete's sake: I was clearly amateur.

Summer of 2010, I saw myself slipping away. I knew I had to get back into running before it was too late. I didn't want to just be on of those people who runs a few miles here and there. I wanted to run 26.2. I did some research and found that the Indianapolis Monumental Marathon was in early November, and I would have plenty of time to train for it. (And it was another state.) I started training and felt revived again. This time, I knew what I was doing or at least pretended to. I got a hydration belt. I had gels. I was a spandex wearing freak. I did hills. I did speed work. I ran 20 miles. I ran 18 a few times. I got cuboid syndrome and bounced back. I was serious.

Race day came, and I was ready. I was hoping to break 4 hours. It was going to be tough, but I was hopeful. I started out once again too fast. The environment just sucks you in. It's hard to run slow when everything is so energizing. I was running 8:51/mile with a 1:56 half marathon. I felt once again phenomenal. Around mile 16, I was starving. It wasn't hitting the wall: it was hunger. I started to worry. The next aid table was my best friend. I got gatorade, a banana, and I reassessed. My pace dropped significantly. It was somewhere around mile 18 that the 4-hour pace group passed me. I was bummed, but I didn't lose hope. I never walked, and I finished in 4:06:12. A personal best by 16 minutes. I didn't break 4, and maybe if I hadn't gone out so fast, I would have made it...

2011 brought Grandma's Marathon: another state. This originally came about because several friends in Madison had discussed doing the race, and I thought why not. My family can all come, and I can say I did the famous Grandma's Marathon. Let's just say this training season was more like my amateur season. I never made a 20 miler, and I had too many hungover long runs. Celebrating friends departures and my time in America winding down resulted in a less dedicated runner. I did the Madison half weeks before and finished in 2:04, which was a 9:47 pace. It wasn't bad, but I could tell I was not marathon ready. There was little to be done at that point, and I just prepared for the worst.

I got to the start line with a group or Boston-qualifying hopefuls, and I was just hoping to finish. I knew I was good for 16 miles, but after that it was anyone's guess. I managed to hang on with the 4:15 pace group for the first 15. Then a bathroom stop dropped me back. I wanted to finish under 4:30, and I had to make a plan. I knew there was no way I'd run the whole way like Indianapolis, so I took some Runner's World magazine advice and began a walking scheme. I would walk for no more than 2 minutes at every mile marker sign. I figured I had a little cushion room since I had stayed on pace with the 4:15 group for so long.

I got to mile 25 and was in a zone of mild hypothermia probably. I was about to take my walk break when I realized my crazy family was out there hooting and hollering for me. I knew I couldn't walk then, so I pressed on. I was too close to the finish to walk anymore because there were so many people. I was moving, slowly, but surely. Once I hit the mile 26 mark, I noticed the balloons of the 4:30 pacer group come up to my left side. Not a chance. I took off at what felt like a sprint, but I can imagine looked more like an arthritis-suffering senior citizen in need of a hip replacement jog. I crossed the finish line and knew I had gone under 4:30, and I began dry-heaving immediately. An innocent volunteer asked me if I was ok. I really wasn't sure at the time: was I ok? I made it through the chute, got my medal, my t-shirt, some snacks, and went to find my parents. Official finish time: 4:28:55.

I think I'll just hang up my Mizunos until I hit Asia.

UW Alumni

College Graduate: Check, now if only I didn't have to student teach for 4 more weeks.

 The PE Crew with sage green tassels.

Graduation weekend was a lovely time. I took a half day on Friday and hit up the zoo with Kasey, Chris, and Jackson. Jackson was not interested in the animals, but the people really kept his interest up. Friday evening we dined at Red Robin yummm. I consumed far too much protein and sodium for the average person, but it's ok because I'm leaving this land of the free and saturated fat soon enough. I enjoyed the hot tub and pool with the family at the Days Inn and called it an early night. Saturday morning was an early event with the ceremony beginning at 10 am. After the show, we had a little shindig at Erin's house with a few of the cohort members. Fun was had by all, more fun by the people drinking copious amounts, but fun all around. After a little break in the action for some hot tub time at the hotel, I reunited with some friends to hit the town on graduation night. There were too many lines and people for my taste, but I probably won't graduate again, so it's a good thing I went out.

Now, I have a day to recover from the fun. I have a long run to do, a moped to sell, laundry to get done, and lesson plans to plan.

I am truly blessed with a wonderful family and fantastic friends.

On Wisconsin!

Perspective

It's amazing how moving to India gives me a whole new perspective.

Examples:

Man I really like those neon yellow shorts. Oh that's right, I can't wear shorts that short in India.

I should really eat less cheese. Nah, I gotta get my fix in now before I find myself in the mountains begging for a cheese curd.

It's so windy running by the lake. I better run around every lake I can before I ship out.

I should start to follow cricket, so I can be hip and with it when I get to India. I think I'll have plenty of time once I get there. I'll go watch the Mallards and have a beer instead.

I NEED TO ENJOY AMERICA BEFORE I CAN'T ANYMORE.

Super Sweet Sixteen

The summer of 2004 was one of the best summers of my life. I took my first trip via airplane, visited two new countries, celebrated my 16th birthday in Sydney, Australia, and road tripped to Daytona Beach.

I flew on my first airplane, second, and third, and finally hit my final destination of Melbourne, Australia. In the summer of '04, I was selected as a People to People Student Ambassador and had the amazing opportunity to travel to Australia and New Zealand with about forty other kids my age. I met some of the most amazing people on this trip, DJ being the most special of course.

The trip was incredible from beginning to end. The highlight by far was my birthday. We were in Sydney for the day. The day started bright and early with a climb on the Sydney Harbour Bridge, and the first of many singings of Happy Birthday. There was a museum visit, a stop at the Hard Rock Cafe for more singing, a tour of the Sydney Opera House, and a magical dinner cruise on the harbour with more singing.

Me, Laura, and Chelsea

The dinner cruise was by far the highlight for many reasons. It was the first time our group was dressed up and presentable. There was dancing, and everyone knows I love dancing. My group also surprised me with an opal ring that was purchased that day at an opal store without my knowing. It was the most incredible gift and surprise ever. What a bangin' group.

Andy, Me, and DJ

New Zealand was incredibly beautiful, but the trip was dying by this point. People were getting edgier, dirtier, and less fun. I think it was a combination of homesickness and a decrease in temperature. Then after sleeping on the ground on the ship that brought us from the North to South Island, I was feeling the dirty edginess too and was ready to get back to the farm.

I'll never forget P2P '04.  

Then about a week after I got back, I hit the road with Kasey, Chris, and my best friend Amanda for a trip across America. My sister, Kasey, got a job in Daytona and was relocating with her fiance at the time to the land of fun and sun. Amanda and I got picked to follow the truck and Uhaul with Kasey's car. Who would trust a couple of 16 year-olds with their car driving to Florida? Crazy people, that's who.

Another amazing adventure. The trip had highs and lows. Most of the lows were when Amanda would sleep for hours on end and never drive. Then there was that brief spurt in the mountains when I was riding with Chris in a rain storm and there was only one radio station-forcing us to fill the silences with conversation instead.

Once we got to Daytona, the fun really took off. We spent days by the pool and the beach without a care in the world. There were a few boys we picked up here and there. One turned into a huge stalker, which would only foreshadow my future... Then we packed our bags and flew home.

The rest of the summer was a joke, which would explain why I got my minor that summer. After that the party train slowed down as my dad suggested.

Rewind

I’m gonna miss this.

Highlights of the past years are endless. I simply could not be happier with my five years at UW. Let’s flashback to freshman year…

George, Maggie, Me, and Eli: SAKE!

I will be forever grateful for meeting some of the greatest Badgers: Maggie, Megan, and Elisabeth. Without Maggie and Megan, there’s no telling where my freshman career would have gone. Maybe I would have gotten better grades, spent less money, and had a normal sleep schedule. That sounds incredibly boring. Then there was Elisabeth, who offered sanity and reason when all else failed. She become one of the best roommates a person could have.

Megan, Maggie, and Me-Freshman year in a nutshell: sketchy parties in sketchy basements.

Chicago with Maggie and Eli

Condom Balloon Fight

There were several other wonderful people that made 6B a happening place to be freshman year. It was a floor that covered both ends of the spectrum politically, religiously, and sexually. Let’s just say by the end of the year everyone was ready to go home. 

Eli and Me and Devil's Lake

Things to be remembered:

-Ed’s Express: Nachos Plus, Justin Sticks, Cinna-sticks, Pizza, Wraps, Subs, Ice Cream, Weight Gain, and more-->Anyone remember Kyle from Ed’s? We convinced Elisabeth to give one of the workers there a note from us requesting for him to call us. Oh Freshman year. 

-Badger Games: I can clearly remember wearing my lanyard of keys looking like a complete tool and wandering around classy keg parties but never paying for a cup.

Megan and Me (looking like a tool)

-And who could ever forget drunk laundry? It’s all about supply and demand people. Thank you Econ 101 professor Juan Esteban Corranza Romera. We made a little side money doing some laundry, and we also enjoyed a few drinks while doing so. It’s amazing how much fun laundry becomes when you’re getting paid and drinking. What an ideal life.

Peace Out America and Bad News Bears for OSU

In about five months, I will be leaving the lovely United States and heading to Mussoorie, India. I will be teaching middle school PE and health at Woodstock School.
http://www.woodstockschool.in/

I definitely recommend checking out the website. It has recently been ranked one of the top international schools in the world. I am incredibly excited for this adventure and look forward to keeping you all in the loop of my shinanigans. Will these people be able to handle my direct and forward nature along with my mismatched socks? I don't know, but I can't wait to find out.

In the months prior to my departure, I plan on enjoying everything that is America. Imagine lots of hamburgers, bacon, cheese curds, and merriment. I'm sure it will be an emotional roller coaster. There is tons of stuff that I'm going to miss and plenty of things that I have to be grateful for over the past five years at UW.

This past weekend has been a terrific example of my extreme happiness that comes from being a Badger. I had a fabulous time out and about on Friday night with some great friends. I got to watch the Badgers beat the undefeated OSU team, and then rush the court for the first time in my UW history. I did a little babysitting, which involved dancing to Dynamite repeatedly. Then Sunday, I worked with fabulous coworkers at the Union. I love this place. I love these people. It's gonna be tough to leave it all behind.

 Me and Kyle post OSU WIN!!!!