un-expectations. (continued)

Number Two: Unexpected allocation of helmet

India has the highest number of scooters in the world; everyone drives around on one. Riding on these scooters is a lot of fun- it’s like going on a roller coaster! The only difference is that on this roller coaster, someone dies every six minutes.  Despite the high motor accident rate, almost no one wears a helmet while riding. However, there is a small minority that uses helmets and THIS brings me to un-expectation number two:

In case you could not interpret my phenomenal drawing, it is of a father holding his baby while he drives on his scooter. The father has his helmet. The baby has its skull.

I see this scene quite a bit here. And every time, I can’t help think that if the slightest thing happened- a tire popped, a cow walked into the road, or one of the ten incarnations of Vishnu appeared-  and that scooter had to suddenly stop, the baby would go flying like a vortex football thrown by John Elway.

**though the baby’s launch distance is impressive, it is important to note how valuable a helmet would be in this situation.

 

Perhaps if I worked for the Indian Ministry of Helmet Allocation (and if such an institution existed), I would have assigned that helmet to the baby’s  head. But…who knows,  maybe they don’t make baby-sized helmets here?

 

Nonetheless, the allocation of that helmet  was certainly unexpected.

** I have no intention of portraying Indians as bad parents. I believe they are just as good/bad as anywhere else in the world.**

Stay tuned for the next update- “Number Three: Unexpected Music Enthusiasm”

un-expectations.

I’ve created a list of things that have happened to me in India that have produced unanticipated results. These outcomes were unexpected- not necessarily bad- just different and somewhat surprising. I’ll try to post one un-expecation every few days, assuming that I can get to zee internet cafe.

Number One: Unexpected Reaction

I was having tea with my host family and telling them about my interest in travel photography. My host uncle brought up that there was recently a photograph taken by a tourist in a nearby village that won a presitigous photo competition. “What was the photo of?” I asked.

“A woman feeding her child with one breast, and using the other breast to feed a deer.”

Upon hearing that a woman simultaneously feeds her baby and a feral deer from her bosum, i thought:

To my surprise, my host mom had a different take on it:

Let’s take a closer look at the side-by-side comparison:

Unexpected reaction? Yes sir.

lard and hate exchange.

One night I was having a friendly conversation with a fellow American named Lila at a local bar. We formed an immediate bond as we expressed our shared objection to the recently formed relationship between John Mayer and Taylor Swift.

“Tay-Tay, you can do so much better.”

After awhile, following the natural flow of conversations, the topic drifted from celebrity dating to the plight of Western investments in overseas development. While most of the foreigners working in development abroad quickly become critical of any Western solution to global poverty, Lila had avoided that cynical disillusion and maintained an admirably enthusiastic attitude– she even had her own idea on how to combat child hunger.

And so is the title of my post: lard and hate exchange.

Lila looked at me earnestly in the eye, she was such a sweet person, but not the sharpest tool in the shed:

“I kind of have this idea…an idea to start a program that will help with the starving children around the world.”

I nodded my head for her to continue- it was obvious she had reservations about this idea, but I could tell she was really excited about it.

“I want to start a kind of pen pal program- where fat kids in America are paired up with starving kids around the world…I’d start it off in India of course. Every time a fat kid in America loses a pound, a starving child would gain a pound! That way fat American kids would be motivated to lose weight…because they would be like…saving lives!”

I scanned her face as covertly as I could, trying to figure out if she was joking or not. But after a second, it was clear that she was being completely sincere.

In my head I imagined the obese youth across America at mcdonalds sponsored weight-loss-atons.

I pictured my pilot friend Amy flying across the ocean in a plane full of lard cargo.

I envisioned dozens of starving children waiting in christmas-like anticipation for their generous gifts.

I imagined some elaborate new apparatus for fat transplantion ( just a liposuction machine in reverse)

Of course, I didn’t think Lila meant the actual excess fat would somehow be directly inserted into the malnourished children, but I really couldn’t get that image out of my head. I tried my hardest to respond seriously to her proposal,

I knew I wasn’t a good enough actress to effectively feign any more support for Lila’s grand scheme to save the world. And not wanting to crush her genuine spirit by explaining the many logistical and ethical problems surrounding her idea, I quickly tried to think of a new topic to talk about.

But as it often happens with me and others plagued with an inherent awkwardness, my mind became blank at the moment I direly needed a new topic.

I blurted out the first thing I could,

Then I remembered- we already talked about that.

I didn’t want her tot think I was intentionally shifting the conversation. I had to make it seem that my hate for John Mayer was so intense that it would naturally come up in conversation twice in one night. So with firey passion in my eyes,

Fortunately for me, as I said above, Lila is an extremely nice person and after being a little creeped out by my irrational hatred for John Mayer, she switched to a new train of thought, and I did not have to share my true feelings about her idea.

In conclusion, the events that unraveled that one night at the bar really got me thinking- What am I doing to make a difference in the world? How can I help? What role can I play? Then it clicked!

I decided to start new charity. Do you hate John Mayer?!?!?! If so, please donate your hate to my charity- I will then transfer that hate to all the repressive governments of the world with the hopes that they will stop being so darn mean!

namaste.

cheesh club.

I knew off the bat my host family would be very nice and easy to live with. However, that did not diminish the awkwardness that is inevitable when one first arrives to live in a stranger’s home in a foreign land. After chatting about the typical “get to know you” topics such as family, work, and pets, conversations become quite difficult to maintain over ten seconds. My host family is particularly quiet, as am I when I first meet anyone, so meals for the first few days were full of those awkward silences that confirm the fact no one is really comfortable with the new conditions.

It was not until the third day—as I reached for some cheese— that the awkwardness finally began to dissipate and those cultural boundaries started to crumble:

At first I had no idea what cheesh was. But after of few seconds of confusion I followed my host grandmother’s line of vision to my hand, which was holding the only shitty cheese that India had to offer. Immediately, the confused look over my face vanished and was replaced with one of utter excitement. Not only do I LOVE cheese, but my host grandma had barely said three words to me since I arrived and the fact that she was finally acknowledging me was more than I could handle…

“YES!,” I shouted, with what was probably a frightening amount of enthusiasm. And though her response did not match my enthusiasm, she replied with words that filled my soul with tremendous joy and words that I will never, ever forget :

Yes, this is the story of my entry to the prestigious cheesh club/ acceptance by the peoples of India. Granted, I’m not really sure what being in the cheesh club entails or what enormous responsibilities I shall be expected to uphold in the future, but boy does it feel good to be a member! And as my mom said, “Spending time with like-minded individuals is vital to one’s well-being.”

My friends, let us take a moment to behold the truly amazing powers of cheese and forever appreciate its amazing ability to unify people of the world.

***NOTE: This did not take place at the Taj Mahal- the background was merely used to emphasize the fact that I am in India, not New Jersey