more travels

After we left our less than stellar lodging, we boarded the train the next day to Ajmer. From Ajmer, we took the bus to Pushkar. We then wandered around and ended up at a place recommended to us by a friend, "Sunset Palace." The price was right. The location was gorgeous, but the rooms turned out to be a little... dirty. Our rooms had a pair of lost underwear, a condom, and uncleaned toilets. The next day, we packed our bags and found what would be the cheapest and best place we stayed all of vacation. At 200 rupees ($4) a room, it was fantastic.

We didn't do a whole lot in Pushkar, but we did enjoy it still. It was a very touristy spot with lots of Europeans. We spent most of our time wandering around, eating, and eating again. We enjoyed avocados, pancakes, and tasty desserts that we normally don't get in Mussoorie.

We headed back to Jaipur to pre-celebrate Lindsay's birthday. We had great plans, that of course changed as things do in India. Our original restaurant of choice closed shortly after we got there, and we ended up eating at Little India. We got a nacho platter appetizer and felt complete once again. After dinner, we tried to find the Coco Berry (frozen yogurt chain) that we ate at the last time we were in Jaipur, but we couldn't find it. We settled for a Baskin Robins because those are much easier to find in India.

The next day we boarded our flights with Katie heading to Hong Kong, and the rest of us heading south to Goa.

Goa brought sun burn, pineapple, watermelon, and seafood. We stayed on one of the quieter beachers and felt happy with our decision after we visited the more popular beaches that were covered with tourists due to the holiday. We swam, ran, read, napped in the AC, and played Phase 10 to determine the best competitor. Goa was another place filled with European tourists. There were also Indian tourists who felt compelled to be a white girl's friend, especially one who worked in India.

We wished each other Merry Christmas as the sun set on the beach with mixed feelings of missing our families and feeling blessed to be in a such a beautiful place.

We got back on a plane and flew to Mumbai, a much less budget friendly spot.

6 weeks of helping the tourism industry of SE Asia (part one)

Well, I'm back.

I left Woodstock School on December 14th and didn't return until January 27th. It was a long vacation, where at times, I simply forgot I had a job. Let me tell you some of what I did in those six weeks.

We hopped on the train to Delhi on the 14th and spent a couple days there lounging around and hitting the club scene before heading to further ventures. I enjoy Delhi for it's accessibility to theaters, malls, easy transportation, and many other amenities that are hard to find in Mussoorie.

The last time we were in Delhi for quarter break, we got down at a hotel/dance club and had oodles of fun doing such. We were hoping to recreate the scene this time around but found our usual spot to be deserted and full of chirping crickets. We didn't give up hope and ventured to another club that was hosting "ex-pat" night or as I like to think of it-foreigner night. This seemed like a great idea. Upon arrival, there seemed to be something strange about the scene. It looked like we had walked into a high school dance. Most of the guests appeared to be American teenagers. We ventured upstairs where we found people closer to our age and longer skirts.

After we left the club, we ventured to Old Delhi to get some late night snacks. We were experiencing the strange luxury of having a friend with a car, so the world all of a sudden seemed up for the taking. It was almost like rolling up to a drive through window. We ordered, waited in the car, and they brought the food to the car on plates for us. We ate like starving dancers and dreaded our thoughts of waking up at 5 am to catch our train. We got some oranges and hit the road.

The next morning, I rallied the troops and got little grumbling. We boarded our train, got in our sleeping bags, and went to sleep. We arrived in Jaipur with little idea of what we were doing or where we were going. An excessively tall taxi driver picked us up and said he'd take us to some places. This would be the experience that led me to have suspicion of all other people who wanted to "help" us. He didn't rip us off or kidnap us, no. We just ended up at a hotel that was more than our price range and was filled with less than stellar staff. No major loss, we were leaving the next day.

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.