shellEy here and there

flashes of a weekend at the beach

2010-08-01T22:26:00.005-04:00

Being home from India has been amazing. Even though I miss Mumbai and mostly reflect on it fondly, it was definitely time to come back. The last few weeks, I've been singing, resting, attending weddings and dancing all night, catching up on Mad Men (mmmmmmm!), reading poetry, recovering from illnesses which followed me home (a parasitic worm? who knows. Oh, India), reconnecting with great people, vacationing, and re-acclimating myself to life on this side of the world (Hulu.com really is great).

I spent this past weekend in Hilton Head, SC with my family. Special thanks to my Dad who made it a point to take this trip while I was in town as one last family blast before I head off to graduate school in a few weeks.

Here are a few snapshot observations from this weekend...

Standing on the beach in perfect weather, watching the sunset, and my dad saying "it really doesn't get better than this;" constantly snacking on amazing food; overhearing Bailey's giggling from the other room; admiring a sand castle, then noticing an old man was building it; lounging in the pool and talking to Vikas about my wedding and whether it will be on a cruise or a destination wedding (even though some important details are yet undecided including who I'll marry); running my fingers through the big, bouncy, crusty curls of my beach hair; being woken up by an enthusiastic Bailey every morning; keeping hilarious "that's what she said" jokes to myself; witnessing the extraordinary sight of pelicans nose-diving into the ocean like fighter jets; having conversations about astronomy with my Dad while bobbing with the waves in the ocean; and clinking our red wine glasses in a toast to family and to best wishes on my next steps.

This has been my life the last few days and it's been nothing short of perfect. India was good...but so is this.

It's time to go Home

2010-06-29T11:20:00.001-04:00

I don't even know where to start. As much as I've hoped for this moment when I'd reach the end of this road, my arrival is bitter sweet. But arrived, I have. I'm a different person than the one who showed up here about a year ago. I made it. Through all the mattress travails, the mosquitoes, the experiences of every consistency and shade of bowel movement (believe it), the depths of loneliness, the heartache of music, the anguish, the beach, the power of love for a Land, and falling asleep to the voice of God I indeed conquered.

India, I've been lost and found and lost again. I have loved you, and hated you, and loved you again. Every time, you've pulled me closer, and I'm managing to escape your clutches for just a little while.

I'll be back soon, and we'll be together again.

thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you...
all my heart, my soul, my love, alas, my everything to You.
s

Happy Father's Day!

2010-06-20T16:15:00.000-04:00

Happy Father's Day, Daddy!!

I cannot count the ways this experience was meaningful and special because of you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I hope you enjoy yourself and indulge a little today. You've earned it!

lots of love and see you soon!! (like 4 days soon!)
shelley

emergency landing: an overdue post

2010-06-08T14:29:00.000-04:00

Hi all,
In March, I got pretty ill in India and went home to Atlanta for some r&r. Actually, I had plans to go home for about 10 days for my grandpa's 90th birthday (pic of us from the event below) but as the date of my return neared, I got so sick - home sick, physically sick, emotionally sick, every kind of sick. All of a sudden India had become a toxic environment for me and I needed OUT. So, I got home and instead of just 10 days, I took a whole 2 months to recover. And recover I did.

It was a good few weeks at home, enjoying familiars like baked potatoes, driving on the right hand side of the road, eye contact, trash cans, straight forward communication, and margaritas. I didn't realize how much I missed certain things about my life in the States. I was recovering from feeling starved physically (I cut my dress size in half after 7 months of being here), and emotionally (I missed my friends, and getting to be multi-dimensional again was a relief).

Anyway, that's all to say that I'm back in Mumbai now, recharged and ready to take on another few weeks at the school. Most importantly, I'm back because I have exams in just a few weeks (eeek! t-16 days and counting!), and I need to make up for lost time that I didn't practice back at home. I'm trying not to beat myself up over not practicing as much at home because the truth is, I was super burned out. 6-8 hours a day of singing (or doing any one thing, I'd speculate) is exhausting, believe it or not. Now that I'm back, it's nose to the grindstone, just me and my books and the harmonium. I'm trying to stay focused knowing that I have one last shot at making everything right here. But I've also struck a balance. Listen Mumbai, I'm going to enjoy these last few weeks if it means eating out for lunch and enjoying the AC for an hour a day. I'm roughing it, but I'm also keeping things from being unbearable, basically.

My Juhu Beach walks are again part of my routine, as are the 6 AM practices, dog pee in the hallways, uncomfortable smells, and Subway sandwiches.

Not a whole lot has changed around here...except for me. I'm going to kick this exam's ass and call it a (long and successful) day.

love
shelley

p.s. I'd love to hear from you all now that the blog is back!

Don't You Want Me, Baby?

2010-01-12T13:37:00.003-05:00

I'm including this video for your listening pleasure as your read this post. (available on original post, only, not RSS, sorry!)

Lately, me and India have been going through a rough patch. I'm optimistic and I'm calling our first mini fight, but India's been unwilling to listen to me lately during our little spats. Let me explain.

I've been struggling with two exhausting issues. First, is loneliness which I've bored you about before. But this feels different, more intense. Don't get me wrong, I don't sit in my room and cry about it all the time (at least not every day), but I do wonder how I can love a place so much and want to spend my whole life here, but then not feel like I have much (any) community here.

Let's put it this way: The thought of leaving here makes my heart ache. Imaging myself roaming about in the US (or anywhere else) makes me gasp for air like I'm drowning in sorrow before I catch myself and remember that I'm still here and there's no need to go there yet in my head or in my heart. It's the kind of heart ache that feels so good for right now, because I'm in the comfort of India's arms -- the comfort of the smells, the Bollywood ringtones, the Hindi slang, the auto rickshaws, the street food, the silk saris. I want to spend my last days here. I want to die here. If I can, I want to spend the rest of forever here. I need to be connected, not just spiritually and emotionally, but physically to this land. I want my ashes scattered here, and I want my scions to Know this Place as theirs.

But, how can I make that happen if I feel at home here and also so alone? Seeing a crowd of people walking down the street with their black-haired heads bobbing in front of me makes me sigh and think "ahhhh....these are my people." But then, "my people" aren't really here. I got to witness two old friends meeting for the first time in months two weeks ago. Seeing that first embrace and the disbelief that the other was standing there in the flesh, that cheek-to-cheek smile, that total understanding and surrender that only comes from seeing someone who you can be your whole Self around made me...I don't know. At once happy for them and happy for the world that such relationships exist, but also sad that I have felt that before, but don't have that here at all. I miss my people. I miss car rides with Jodi where we eat ice cream, drink coca-cola, and talk about the End Times. I miss going to Target with Leise and making fun of everything. I miss hanging out on the lawn at the Cave. I miss the distinct smell of the garage at Helmer road that I'd recognize with a blindfold on. I miss counting on pals to be there through thick and thin. I want to have my friends around who I can cry in front of. No masks, no guards, just Me. Not mostly Me, but totally Me. The closest I have come is my dearest Yashna who can relate to my frustrations on practically every level. But getting to know her has been like a small taste of a deep friendship which has left me craving more just as she's leaving next week.

I want to be here so badly, but it doesn't make sense to do it when all my friends and family aren't here. And I can't have both, so I have some serious decisions coming up. I don't know how I can leave India behind, though. I console myself about June by thinking about how graduate school is just for 2 or 3 years but then I can zip right back here.

Last time I left India, here's what I wrote:

I knew that I'd miss it when I got back...and I do. It's just not the same here. I'm just waiting to get through school, graduate in December, and go back as soon as I can. I want to go back and see it all again, but this time soak up even more the tastes, the smells, the sounds. *sigh* I miss it. It's in my dreams, it's in my heart. India, I love you.

Everything will be the same, except more intense, I'm guessing.
In the meantime, I'm working on how to reconcile that and also not worry about it too much because I still have 6 months here to eat pani puri to my heart's content.

The other issue that's been plaguing me -- literally -- is some weird allergic reaction that's been persisting for about a week and a half. My friend teases me and asks "How's your rash?" which makes me sound like some walking, diseased creature and reminds me of those embarrassing pages over the intercoms that kids got in homeroom in middle school. I think it's dust mites, or maybe scabies. After I spent the last two days painstakingly sanitizing everything -- sheets, room, cupboards, bathroom, every article of clothing, me -- and it still wasn't gone this morning, I cried really hot tears of frustration and rage. I was livid about these dumb critters which won't go away, about the lengths that I went to yesterday in the hopes that it would work, and that I had to do it all alone which was maybe the worst part. I called my mom and she said she'd send me a ticket to come home which she meant comfortingly, but made me even more pissed, of course. But I went to see a dermatologist at the hospital today (first time at an international hospital and all I can do is write in my book over and over how grateful I am to have to resources to waltz into a place like that and get first class treatment), and he said that it might be some parasitic worm or something, which he gave me meds for.

OK, THAT'S IT. I mean come on, India. I just announced to the world on the internet, and I'd stand on the top of any building to proclaim my love for you. And this is what I get in return?? Come on! My friend Pat compares everything to a bad boyfriend, and that's exactly what this India is turning out to be. I thought we had something here. You, India, keep crapping on me and taking advantage of me, and I, hopelessly smitten and blinded by love, keep crawling back. I swear, if I have a parasitic worm that looks like this roaming around in my stomach, I will seriously consider breaking up with You. (Trouble is, even something that disgusting is no guarantee of me walking away, I'm so in love.) It's rather pathetic the kind of abuse that I'm taking from India and I still keep coming back for more.

Pray for me that it's not a worm or something worse because I really really want this fight to end. Oh, and also, I want to get better soon and not have random itchy outbreaks. Yeah, that too.

Charlie Brown, you said it best: "Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love."

shelley

p.s. sidenote: I banged out some of this frustration on Mansi today and she was awesome. I haven't even begun to explore the depths of music...

where is my jetpack

2010-01-01T08:23:00.001-05:00

Happy New Year, everyone!
Details later on how I rang in the new year, but for the time being, let's just leave it at "pretty rough morning in class" :) A fun night, nonetheless.

When I was a kid, the thought of the year "twenty-ten" sounded so distant, like I might not ever be old enough to see a twenty-something year. But, here we are. Still, I'm a little bit surprised that this decade isn't more futuristic. I was sort of expecting a Jetsons lifestyle.

Here's some lines off a favorite tee that I got on threadless:

they lied to us.
this was
supposed to be
the future.

where is my jetpack,

where is my robotic companion,
where is my dinner in pill form,
where is my hydrogen fueled automobile
where is my nuclear powered levitating house.

where is my cure for this disease.

-------

Well, i don't feel so pessimistic about 2010 or the future, at least not in this moment. I think that this year is going to be full of blessings and challenges, and hopefully lots of both. Wishing everyone out there the best damn decade ever.

and also, India, I love you.
Thanks for letting me celebrate my new year with you,
s

More coming

2009-12-27T14:57:00.000-05:00

Lots to catch up on here including pics and vids from a successful Annual Day, details about my exam (which I whooped), and a general recap of my experience at the 5 month mark. I only have a few min right now, but I wanted to share a quick thought.

I thought I'd never admit this, but I'm lonely and missing home. Caveat: only missing home a teeny weeny bit, and I'm not really missing the USA. What I mean is, I'm missing people I connect with, people my age, and people who think like me. I want to have a conversation with someone about a Post-colonial critique of poor Indian children selling Santa hats on the street in Mumbai on Dec 24. Or about third world feminist identity. Or about going back to grad school. Or about painting. Or even about music if I could just meet someone who knew Erykah Badu. Honestly, there's too much about me that never gets expressed here that no one else I know can relate to. It might be a mixed blessing that I don't appreciate just yet.

Basically, I'm saying: Friends, you are missed like whoa. My friend, Nichole, wrote this to me some months ago after reading my blog:

"take care and remember: there's a difference between loneliness and being alone...one is a condition of the heart (often permanent) and the other is a temporary, character-building endeavor that teaches us how to be more human."

I can only hope that I'm battling the latter and just learning to be more human?
Blah. Being human is overrated.
Right now, loneliness is my Kryptonite.
Music, take me away.
s

This Land is My Land

2009-12-17T14:10:00.001-05:00

The lines to that song were ringing in my ears today as I drank a celebratory Coca Cola on the beach alone, looking out over the sunset. Even though the rest of the words to the song don't exactly fit, it was kind of perfect.

Today, I got an envelope in the mail with the address written in my Dad's familiar handwriting. I ran up to my room, locked the door behind me, and sat with it for a few moments. I couldn't believe what I was about to see. My heart was in my throat when I opened it, and out tumbled two little booklets. One -- a navy blue one with a gold seal on the front that I used to keep tucked away in a pocket of a duffel bag in DC in case I needed to up and run away somewhere instantly -- is also known as my passport. The other one is blue, too -- the same color blue as those seats on the trains in India that makes me just melt -- and also has a golden seal on it, but it's for "The Republic of India."

I'm a dual citizen, friends! It's official! I know I mentioned it in a previous post, but holding those sacred government-sanctioned documents (do I even believe in government?? well, I do at least for the purpose of getting to stay in India ;-D) was more than I could ask for from this already awesome week.

Here's a pic of my new goodies. I didn't get a pic of me holding them, but imagine tears + my Pani Puri face. Something like this --> :D

Under "validity" of my new Indian visa, it says "lifelong." Yeah, I just about lost my breath over that one. Now, the only thing keeping me from staying here for ever and ever and ever is...me. It's totally up to me. For everyone who keeps asking me when I'm coming back "home," I am at home. And if you mean to ask when I'm coming back, my answer is, "I'm never, ever leaving. At least not in my heart." And now my body can stay too if I want.

India, it's you and me, Baby, one way or another until the very end of my days.
shelley

staring competitions

2009-12-12T23:36:00.000-05:00

The staring here is out of control. I mean, people glare and crane their necks long after they've passed me, even at the risk of bumping into something I front of them, to size me up. They stand in groups and tap their friends on the shoulder to point at me and comment. Sometimes the women whisper to each other and stare with so much disdain, it makes me look down and think wait, I didn't actually leave the house wearing a miniskirt, right?? Do I look like a hooker? Or am I not wearing a shirt at all or something? I really did put on a salwaar kameez today like every other day, right?? It's bad.

When I first got to Mexico, I was surprised by how the men stared. I realized that it was because I must have been a somewhat rare sight for many of them: a young woman, walking around alone. Plus, most of them assumed I was Mexican, so if they stared, they were giving me the totally creepy, "Oye mamacita, I would do anything to be with you right now if you just said yes even though I have a wife and kids back home" look, not the "hello tourist, how are you? How can we make your stay enjoyable?" look. It wasn't just to me, though, obviously. It was to every woman under 40, if I had to guess. I felt uncomfortable a lot of the time, but I learned to wear long sleeves and I mastered my cold face which responded "if you come one step closer or fantasize for a moment that I am attracted by your gestured proposition, I will kick you in your cajones." It must have been that mean since the guys backed off a little bit.

India's different though. They stare for different reasons. Here, they're trying to place me. They're curious and are trying to take in as much about me as possible so they can hurry up and pass judgment. All this speculating and condemning must be completed in about 10 seconds (sometimes 15 or 20 depending on how flexible their necks are and on how fast I'm walking), so it's intense. I remember a few years ago when I came for about 2 weeks, I arrived having decided that I would stare back. I remember planning it all out when I was packing my clothes for the trip and making the conscious decision that I would definitely glare back and make them so uncomfortable that they'd avert their eyes first. In the 14 days I was here, I didn't win a single one of my private little contests. Not a single. I'd try and stare back and the men (especially) would either look so offended that I dared to give them a cold look (because of course they have every right to check me out, size me up, make me feel uncomfortable with their greedy eyes) that I thought they'd march over to me and kick my ass (or harm me even worse) OR they'd be turned on which was most definitely not what I was going for. So every time, I'd have to look away because I didn't want to be hurt.

This time, I didn't think about it really. Honestly, I sort of forgot how invasive the staring is until I got here. Anyone I complained to about it said relax, you get used to it. But that wasn't really comforting, either. There's a lot about India that I wanted to get used to, but somehow, feeling violated and uncomfortable when I'm out on my evening walk was not one of them. And the more they stared, the more uncomfortable I got. And the more uncomfy I got, the more out of place I felt. And thus, the more they stared because I looked so awkward, like I didn't belong. It was an ugly cycle.

Somehow, though, along the way, my attitude has changed. I've changed, actually. I'm not adjusting anymore, not feeling like an outsider, not really even feeling out of place out on the street. You know by now how I feel, right? (hint: happy.) I've figured out how to carry myself. It's much less intentional than in Mexico, and I don't have to walk around with the fierce look, even if I'm alone. I really don't even think about it. I look a bit more like I belong. Or at least like I've convinced myself that I belong and that body language and energy seem to have gone a long way. The stares have subsided significantly, but they're still there.

So now, I stare back.
I stare back because I can. Because I've got the gumption to do so. Because I know my way home if anything were to happen. Because I know who to call if anyone messes with me. Because I feel in my element enough to be sassy. Because I frankly don't fear them. It's no longer "What could they do to me?", but "What would they actually do??" And because I've got some good cuss words under my belt.

Plus, with my new found confidence, I like to mess with folks a bit. For one, they don't expect the stare back. It's especially fun to catch someone staring and if they avert their eyes, I keep staring because I'm sure that in a second, they'll turn around for another glance. And when they do, BAM! I catch them again. Sometimes I catch one person 4 or 5 times until they're so ashamed they have to stop. Sometimes, I even give them a thuggish jerk of my shoulders in a gesture of "what? huh? what do you think you're looking at? You got something you want to say to me? Then why don't you come over and say it?" They never do, of course. :)

It's wonderful being on the winning side of this staring competition.
Even more wonderful knowing I'm doing it in India. Bring it!
shelley

up to my eyeballs...

2009-12-07T13:58:00.003-05:00

...in graduate school applications (applying to environmental/landscape design, sustainable development, and south asian diaspora/migration studies programs), studying for end of term exams (I'm giving a written exam of two years worth of music theory in some 2.5 weeks), and other projects going on at the school (including two or three which were not described in the previous post). More details on the progress of all my work as I have some news. (In the meantime, if you want to send me an encouraging note or just generally good vibes so that I accomplish all of this like the raging rock star i aspire to be, by all means... :D)

i was almost feeling overwhelmed yesterday but then i remembered that i still get to see the beach, sit with Mansi, and enjoy a cup of chai practically every blesséd day.

india, meri jaan...i love you more than I've ever loved anyone or anything.
s

in pain (the good kind)

2009-12-05T21:09:00.001-05:00

We got yelled at yesterday morning. It happens. Around here, I guess you're supposed to get used to it and let it roll off. But then why do they yell if we cope by ignoring? I don't understand what comes of it except high blood pressure. Anyway, whatever whatever whatever.

I spoke with Jodi for about 45 seconds:

Shelley: I got in trouble
Jodi: Lots of trouble?
S: sort of. not sure how bad, though. we'll see.
J: Are you getting sent home??
S: Oh, naw. It's not that bad.
J: Oh. (disappointed)

haha. There's very little about me that makes me an ideal candidate for the school (my background, my lack of training, my age, my level of commitment to singing professionally, etc.), but I still belong here for the time being. Sorry dear, but I'm just not coming home that easily.

Plus, I received some really good news.

Drumroll please....I got dual citizenship!

I can stay here as long as I want and don't have to register myself with the local police like I'm some sort of bandit. And thanks to skype, I can imagine a life here that doesn't feel so far away. It'll feel more real when I get a few more docs in the mail. That's when I'll take a few friends out for a round of pani puri, but until then, I'm celebrating in my heart like it's 1999.

I have already started daydreaming about being in India to live, work, and play.
My cheeks hurt from smiling so much,
shelley

shelley neither here nor there

2009-12-04T14:32:00.001-05:00

I realize that I'm publishing this on the internet for everyone in the world to see (except maybe folks in China?), but it's still worth mentioning that not everyone can/should know that I just got back from Pune. I had to pull some strings and lie...? nah, "lie" is a bit harsh...bend the truth a bit to be able to take some time off. Supposedly I was visiting family, but actually, I was playing cards and star gazing some 3 hours away. So, for what it's worth, since you're reading this, feel free to restrain yourself from going around and spreading the news about what I was up to last week. :) Most people who would have a problem with it, though, have no idea about the blog, but some see me on facebook.

Anyway, my head was buzzing when I left Pune. The last couple of days I was there, I was both excited about coming back and getting back into my routine and also really enjoying the hospitality, good food and awesome weather. Mumbai can be hot and muggy, and stays that way all year long. While longing for D.C. winters is completely out of the question (check out the pic below to get an idea for how cold it was in January last year), I still kind of miss having four seasons. Pune was arid and there was a slight chill in the evenings and it was so perfectly sunny and breezy during the day time that it reminded me of San Francisco.

Me in DC last winter. I do not miss climbing into this jacket even a little bit:

Aside from the weather, there were some other things keeping me from wanting to come back. I met some cool people to hang out with! Ajinkya's crew back in Pune was super sweet and convinced me -- several times, against my better judgment -- to stay just one more day and party with them. I was surprised by how quickly they accepted me, included me in their conversations, told me stories, were eager to get to know me, and were all out friendly. They used phrases I couldn't resist like "if you go, I won't talk to you ever again" or "if you're cool you won't go." How could I say no to the nicest guy from my trip who sent me a text in the middle of the night that read "please don't go tomorrow. :-("? He was convincing me to stay for one more day to party with him. And stay, I did. Oh and speaking of partying, I got the chance to have more than 1 drink in a sitting so that was refreshing, too.

And Pune, as a city, is officially one of my favorites in India. It's young, and as I mentioned before, there are unique hangouts and independent coffee shops, restaurants and bars. The idea of a bar where you can just sit and they play good music while you chat with your friends seems to be a foreign concept in Mumbai. Here, there's not much in between the seedy dance bars (pseudo strip clubs), chain coffee shops (like CCD and Barista), high end restaurants where they serve cocktails, and all out clubs which are too expensive to frequent regularly and are really not so chill. The clubs in Mumbai are more of a "scene," but Pune was even more laid back than Mumbai (I wonder how I'll ever go back to Delhi? I hear it's quite the opposite). Let's just say that I was impressed with this little place. I found a lot less wannabeism and a lot more individuality. And when I finally settle here in India, it will be on the top of my list of cities I could see myself in. Speaking of staying in India...details forthcoming.

One more fabulous thing that happened to me while in Pune - I met Yashna!
She's a friend's ex-roommate's friend, so we're about three degrees of separation from each other, but we were meant to meet. She's an Indian American who had a roller coaster of a year emotionally and spiritually (my words, not hers), packed all of her stuff in the States and came to India to find some solace and healing. (Sound familiar??? ;-)) We instantly hit it off when I first talked to her some weeks back, and visiting with her was a high priority for my trip to Pune. We had dinner at an Italian place in Koregaon Park, drank wine, enjoyed awesome pesto pizza and mushroom stuffed tortellini, and even split a chocolate bomb for desert. Talk about total vacation for me. And we did that all while having the most meaningful conversation I've had with anyone in person since coming here. I finally found someone I could talk to about identity, about the politics of hair and skin color here, and what it feels like to be in a rut and find yourself starting to climb out. Plus, we're about the same age which was a welcome change from the youngsters I've been spending time with. (Although I do love that most of my friends here are so young [17-23 or so] because it keeps things light, helps me laugh more, and is generally just fun.)

Still, spending time with a woman who's my age, speaks my language (literally and in many different ways, figuratively), and shares a lot of other aspects of my identity made me come to a few realizations. Like, how I love it here and so badly want to blend in. I want to get all the jokes, speak without any errors, read and write fluently, etc. But I also want some credit for making it this far; sometimes I want acknowledgment for where I've been and the fact that I can even get along this well here. In the end though, as I was hanging out with Yashna, I realized that identity-wise, no matter who/where I want to be, I'm really neither here nor there.

But don't for a second think this was a tragic realization. Nay, the good part is that for once in my life, I don't feel utterly trapped by this duality. Yeah, so I'm Indian and American. Yeah, so I love that my roots are in both places, and I've proven to myself that I can successfully live in either culture. But I can finally say that I don't have to be one or the other. I'm not an American, no matter what my accent sounds like, and I'm not an Indian no matter how often I wear salwaar kameez. I'm both and that's that.

A final thought about Pune before logging off: I haven't spent much time around dogs or other animals as pets. This past week, I got used to hearing the pitter patter of Zulu's steps in the other room and greeting him when I walked in the door. I won't say that we totally bonded, but we were comfortable with each other, and it dawned on me what a presence pets bring to a home. I caught myself wondering how he was doing earlier this afternoon. He's probably lounging right now or playing fetch with someone. Lucky dog. Here's a couple of pics of him and a few more of the new friends I made.

puppy love

enjoying a margarita at Hard Rock Cafe

Nutella + banana sandwich and cappuccino

(seriously, no one deserves this much pleasure in life)

at Sinhagad which is a half day trip away

(he really is that much taller than me)

drinking fresh chaach at the top of the mountain

view over the city on the way to Sinagad.

Gorgeous view, gorgeous day.

Perhaps one of my favorite excursions since I got to India.

Udy and Ajinkya off the court after their nightly game of ball

me with Shalome, aka Shelley

Two Shelleys in a room makes for lots of trouble.

playing Jenga!

coming soon on shellEy here and there: reactions to my tan and answering "does this ever get easier??"
hugs from back in Mumbai,
shelley

I say Puna, you say Pune

2009-12-02T13:56:00.003-05:00

I've been spending the last couple of days in Pune on vacation. I have a couple of dear friends here, including one Ajinkya who you might have read about in some previous posts. He so warmly invited me to stay with him and his family that I could hardly refuse. I have so much to say about my few days away from the school here, but I only have a few min right now, so here's just a little bit.

I have met the most adorable people, and Pune is the most unique city that I've gotten to know in India so far. Mumbai will always have a special place in my heart, but Pune has awesome weather, is cleaner, and has a real "scene" for young people that I think I could get used to. The size reminds me of DC - small enough to get around, but big enough to call a city.

It's been nice to feel like I'm being taken care of and the food is homemade, full of variety (awesome!), and made with lots of love (not to mention totally delish: prawn curry, fish filets, cabbage salads, homemade achaar [pickle], and very very little daal. awesome.). Since being here, I've had my own room, a super firm and cozy bed, time for yoga and meditation every day, and hot tea in the mornings with a view of the city from a chill balcony while soaking in crisp (68 degree) fresh air and warm sunshine. It's been good. Really really good.

I can't wait to get back to Mansi, though.
Coming soon: lots of pictures, on making a new friend, and thinking about what it means to be an American living in India...

besitos,
shelley

doing some other things, too

2009-12-02T07:47:00.000-05:00

As it turns out, I've found a way to make myself useful at the school. Sure, I can't sing like the others, but I've got some skills that I could whoop their butts in: I can read and write English decently well. 1 point, shelley, 0 points rest of the students. ha.

I'd been thinking about how to handle the events that I recounted a few days ago. Should I go talk to her? Would she chew me out, though? Should I send a message through someone else? That seemed too indirect. I thought about writing her a note of apology and explanation, but I brushed it off because I thought she wouldn't appreciate a letter since I live in the same house practically. She might expect me to come confront her face to face. In the end, though, I admitted that I feel most comfortable handling conflict and expressing myself through writing.

I wrote her a 2 page note on small paper and in my signature green ink. I tried to deliver it to her and dash off, but she made me wait while she read it (it was pretty awkward). We ended up having a conversation afterwards and it was....just lovely. It was strangely intimate because she opened up and told me so many stories about her father who she was very close to (and who was also the visionary for the school and an extremely accomplished singer/musician. More about him in another post.). And you know how I feel about a fondness between fathers and daughters...

Somehow, this very tranquil space for us opened up and we chatted for almost an hour. Just before leaving, everyone was feeling so warm and fuzzy, and I mentioned that she shouldn't hesitate to ask me if she needed some help with anything, including editing the English version of the 2nd year book, which I knew was underway. Thrilled about the offer, she immediately handed me a fresh proof which the printers had sent back that day.

Since then (about 10 days ago), I've been working on edits and looking and various drafts of the book. I've also helped put some official letters together, been consulted on vocab and grammar questions, and most recently, I've been working on adding input for the new web site for the school which we're trying to launch ASAP. I've spent hours and hours with the Principle, in her quarters, both of our noses between the pages of manuscripts, chatting, sipping on tea, discussing linguistics, and most recently, we even started exchanging books, quotes, and opinions about Ayn Rand.

Strange how things can change. That said, I am in no way ready to call us close or friends. I'm still mostly terrified of her, but it's nice to see her other side. :)

still more to catch up on; it's coming soon.
shelley

doing what I came here to do

2009-11-29T01:16:00.002-05:00

It's been almost 3 weeks since I've updated because it's been unusually hectic at the school. In short, we got in trouble. Heaps and heaps of trouble. We weren't going to the 6 AM practices with extremee regularity or always on time (I'd like to add that I had about a 90% attendance rate...not horrific, but still it's not 100%) so one day the principle came into our class and chewed us out. She entered the room, started yelling at all the hostelites, kicked us out of class, and told us to pack our bags. She wasn't ready to compromise, was sick and tired of dealing with us (apparently?), and didn't want to hear any excuses. [Sidenote: in truth, that morning in particular that she was referring to was a bit of an exception because the door to the practice room was locked for some reason so we waited around for a bit and then went to bed not knowing what to do. Still, this excuse was invalid in her eyes.] We stood in class for a few minutes wondering what to do when she yelled again to get the hell out of her sight (or some such language) and that she really didn't want to hear anything else.

Leaving class, however, was not an option for a few reasons. 1) We'd be conceding that we deserved to be kicked out. 2) Along the same lines, we couldn't just up and leave the classroom without a fight. 3) It is totally disgraceful to get kicked out of Guru Ji's class. (And Guru Ji was soooooo sweet. He's freaking the most adorable person that I've ever met. He was trying to defend us, but there was no chance that he'd be able to stand up to the Principle who's a rigid martinet and happens to be his older sister.) And 4), if for no other reason, at least I wanted to go back to class...because it rocks! It's amazing to be in the presence of Guru Ji while he's doing riyaaz. I mean, sure I get everything wrong all the time when called upon and he has a special way of picking on me, but I adore him and miss his class if he's not there for even a day.

So instead of admitting defeat immediately, we stood outside of class for a few minutes and whisperingly conferenced for a few minutes and decided to go to her room and apologize to her personally hoping she'd let us return to class. As soon as we entered her room, she started yelling again. I was trembling, wondering when it was going to end. I actually felt like I was standing in a lion's pit and the zoo keeper wasn't anywhere to be found. No one could really save me from the situation, so I just had to stand in the corner and pray that I wouldn't be eaten alive even though the lion looked really really hungry. She didn't accept our apologies and told us to get out of her sight again. She also threw in some more insults like "you all are the most negligent, undisciplined, ungrateful, spoiled, unworthy, [insert more insults, etc.] group of students I've ever known." At this point, I realize that she's really just outdoing herself with the adjectives. Kya dialogues maarti hai yeh Didi! I mean seriously, no one deserves to be yelled at like this unless you're really trying to prove a point or trying to scare the crap out of them. (I think she was going for both.)

I also learned that getting a good scolding in India is pretty different than back home. Occasionally, the discipliner might throw in a question here and there. I have learned that most questions are rhetorical here, so don't bother with them.

Example:

"Do you think it's fair to your parents that you're such an imbecile?!"

Response back home: "Excuse me, ma'am, but I'm not an imbecile."

Response in India: Just shut up and don't answer. Extra points for looking down.

In the end, I was called back to class (I guess because I'm new and because I have dimples I think) and I got off really lightly. Hardly a slap on the hand. I was shaking in my boots for the rest of the day, though. Instead, to avoid such a verbal ass whooping again, I've been practicing my pants off and kissing lots of butt lately. It's working in my favor so far (knock on wood, or "touch wood" as they say here). It just might have been the right amount of fear I needed to be even more serious.

These days, I wake up and sing every day (5:55 AM these days to be precise ;D), get to look out on the ocean, enjoy the company of a few gems of friends who take good care of me, laugh at the cheesy jokes they crack in Hindi (which is somehow way funnier), write a good bit, and practice a lot.

I'm doing what I came here to do.

Goddamnit, I love it here so much.

shelley

100 day milestone

2009-11-09T10:44:00.005-05:00

I have a special ritual that I don't talk about much, but it's changed my life, and I recently crossed a milestone. When I was in DC, I met a wonderful woman who was incredibly centered, intuitive, open, friendly, and every time we talked, I walked away with some sage tidbit. We only met 3 or 4 times over a glass of wine or coffee and sometimes bumped into each other in the neighborhood. She is multi-talented: a yoga practitioner, writer, gardener, thinker, and probably many other things. She seemed to have it all figured out...or at least she had figured out how to not have it figured out gracefully. One thing I learned from her was about the practice of keeping a list of gratitudes. Actually, I used to do this in college and Beau and I used to talk about it sometimes, too, but she inspired me to start again.

Some days after getting to India when I was struggling to find some meaning in this experience, I decided to be more regular about the list and made a commitment to write daily. Basically, it's a short exercise to reflect on things I'm grateful for or, if you're in the mood to be cheesy, you could say it's a chance to count my blessings. (Also, as you can see below, it is aptly decorated with a pic of Bailey who I am very very grateful for.)

Well, yesterday was the 100th consecutive day of making a gratitude list. There are few things in my life that I've been so committed to and for so long, so that's an accomplishment in itself. But more importantly, this list has changed my perspective, my attitude and my general outlook. Here are some things which appear the most regularly that I'm grateful for:

- being in India
- this experience
- my parents
- getting to sing every day
- time with my two closest friends here
- conversations with jodi
- street food (yes, I am actually grateful to the universe for pani puri because it's divine)
- the chance to do this again tomorrow and make up for everything that I didn't do today
- feeling free free free
- for this level of contentedness...and so much more.

(I'd highly recommend this exercise to anyone)

In other news, I got my ass handed to me in class today. Guruji is so freaking intimidating and I'm at the bottom of the totem pole here. Everyone around me is about 2000 times more advanced and I know that I am granted some concessions because I'm new and have little background, but there is still an intense amount of pressure I feel when all my peers are listening to me or when we are called on to sing alone. It's rare, but this morning each student was asked to sing a pretty high note. I've hit the note before, I know the note, I sing it almost every day in practice. But today, I failed. And big. My heartbeat was ringing in my ears and after trying for it 4 times, I couldn't even hear the note I was supposed to hit anymore. By the end, was I even in the ballpark? I have no idea. I think my teacher eventually made me stop because he realized there was no chance I was going to get it today so he had mercy and/or couldn't bear the torture of my shrill, quivering, off-pitch voice anymore. It wasn't cute, trust me.

me: this is the hardest thing i've ever done.
noah: well keep doing it and then you can call it the greatest accomplishment of your life. which would be awesome, because greatest accomplishments of lives are hard to come by these days.

*sigh* I have so much work to do. Miles and miles to go.
But I'm thankful for that, too.

shelley

p.s. left something crucial off my list yesterday: sushi! oh, philly roll, how I would love to eat you right now.

Caution: Do Not Open if Hungry

2009-11-08T14:32:00.004-05:00

I didn't have the usual nostalgias I have at the 1 month away-from-home mark here in India. But now, almost 4 months later, I'm feeling it at little bit.

Excerpts from a previous entry:

The food here, at the school, is really delish. While I'm in a grandcity with lots of international chains, the food that's cooked at theschool is very traditional, simple, home-style cuisine.

[A]s some of you may know, the 30 daymark is usually pretty significant for me (as I wrote about from Mexico and also from Thailand).I usually start missing food back home, the variety of cuisine, and --with the exception of Mexico -- every other place I've been for 30 daysalways, without fail, leaves me craving cheese. And if I'm not missingthe comforts of home, I'm at least thinking about it.

But thistime is different. I'm not yet missing cheese so far (thanks in part toDomino's, I guess) and I'm not missing home-cooked Indian food,obviously.

Maybe in a little while I'll be singing a different tune...

Right. So, here's me singing a different tune. The food here is simple, but spicy and a little mundane. I really can't have the same cuisine 3 meals a day (dosas in the morning, daal/chaawal in the afternoon, and again in the evening) -- it's too much! I showed up in India practically having filled my daal quota for a lifetime, so you can imagine how I feel about being served the lentils so regularly. So I've been looking for alternatives. I supplement my evening meals with fresh fruit every day and recently started adding some fresh veggies, too. Nothing fancy like what we'd call a "salad" back home, but just cukes and tomatoes with salt and pepper. Even that makes everything taste better.

I've also tried to explore and find some decent western-ish joints to toss it up a bit. And I've found just that - Western-ish.

Sure, Pizza Hut, Dominoes, and McDonald's taste close enough. Their menus are a little different (like the McAloo Tikki Burger or Chicken Maharaja Mac at McDonald's), but the fries and the coke, and the smell of the places is the same. You could say it feels like home, but I don't really frequent those restaurants back home, so they're hardly comforting. Instead, I'm missing a fresh salad with balsamic vinaigrette, avocados, and pecans. Or fettuccine with pesto sauce and freshly grated parmesan. Or fake meat - fake chicken tenders and Texas Pete hot sauce, Morningstar Farms Grillers Prime veggie burgers, or fake salami. Fresh Brushetta. Basil. Watercress & arugula. Romaine lettuce. Or baked ziti. Foccacia bread. Radius Pizza on Mt. Pleasant St. The Cecilia at Tryst. Flying Biscuit cheese grits. Fresh salsa (like Sheena taught me to make). Enchilada night at Vikas and Preeti's place including their fresh guacamole dip & awesome nacho tray. Ben's Chilli Bowl's Chilli Half Smoke. A cup of coffee with cream instead of milk or whip cream. Cinnamon in my coffee. Squash that's not prepared with indian masalas. Peach Yogurt. Black Bean dip. Olive tampanade. Macaroni with unprocessed cheese. Ethiopian Food. Bibimbap or chop chae from Adam's Express. Fresh Spinach. Pine nuts. Blackened fish. Papusas. Sauerkraut. Chinese Stir Fry but without indian spices.
I could really go on, but I think it's time to stop. You get the idea plus my stomach is kind of grumbling.

The main problem is that I go to restaurants which have some of this stuff on the menu, like Italian or Chinese, but in every single instance, I've been let down. My problem is that I go in with all kinds of expectations like a "California Caesar Salad" might taste familiar. But no, it's not: it's old iceberg lettuce drenched in processed dressing with extra-fried croutons and no cheese to boot. In a future post, I'd like to explore all the ways that I find Mumbai incredibly...Indian, even though it seems to boast progressiveness and international appeal. But in my experience, here "International" is defined by American, and mainstream American at that. They're missing some nuances just yet, and that doesn't just go for food.

I'll keep exploring, but I have to start reigning in my expectationsjust a little bit. Really, it's fine and it hasn't been all terrible. It's not that I don't like it, it's just that I was just expectingsomething different here.

Here's how I explained it to my Indian friend:

Imaginethat you picked up and went to the US and you were all alone. About90% of the day you were speaking English, which you're not used to butyou can manage, and everyone you met was so...American. And allyou wanted was a good, tasty, Indian meal. Just one meal a week woulddo it to give you that taste of home and some sense of security. Butevery Indian restaurant or every chain from back home you went to wasgood...but just didn't quite cut it. So close, but not close enough. Like they'd use oregano instead of cilantro (dhania). Or youcould tell the ingredients weren't fresh. Or it just lacked thatmasala or that chutney that used to give everything back home thatfinger-licking मस्त चटपटा flavor.

My friend looked at me with a face that said "geez, that would suck." Welcome to my world, friend.

But if this much access to pani puri and chat at the beach means fewer spots that serve authentic stuffed tortellini, then I am so ok with that.
shelley

p.s. photo above is courtesy of bonnie and our blog, string fever. Have you been checking it recently? 'Cause we've been updating.

photo essay and unrelated quote

2009-11-07T13:09:00.002-05:00

In case you're in the mood to give up foie gras forever -- and maybe even meat in general -- and/or in the mood to see top notch photojournalism, check out this moving and utterly gorgeous photo essay by Mike Belleme.

Also, rediscovered this quote after some time from Yael (thanks!). I was also talking about Rilke this afternoon with Vikram when we were at an artsy bookshop at the historic Prithvi Theater. Funny I stumbled on this today:

“Peoplehave already had to rethink so many concepts of motion; and they will also gradually come to realize that what we call fate does not come into us from the outside, but emerges from us. It is only because so many people have not absorbed and transformed their fates while they were living in them that they have not realized what was emerging from them; it was so alien to them that they have not realized what was emerging from them; it was so alien to them that, in their confusion and fear, they thought it must have entered them at the very moment they became aware of it, for they swore they had never before found anything like that inside them. Just as people for a long time had a wrong idea about the sun’s motion, they are even now wrong about the motion of what is to come.” –Ranier Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet (1929)

peace,
shelley

I'm feeling better...and so international

2009-11-05T04:33:00.001-05:00

Hi all,
I'm doing much much better so thanks for all the overseas love that you sent.

Speaking of overseas...recently a handful of friends have contacted me who are now living/studying/working abroad. Helen is in Indonesia; Shannon is moving to Cambodia this month (both are on Princeton in Asia fellowships); Tiffany & Jennifer are in Korea teaching English; Rajeev is studying in London; Andrew will be studying in India in the spring...

Those are just the friends who have reached out to me, although I suspect there are a lot more people I'm not in touch with who have wandered out of their home countries. I wouldn't call myself an expat since I've only been gone 3 months (+ 3 weeks + 1 day) but still, something about being able to say I'm living abroad sends a tingle up my spine. Like I'm part of an "in" group I've wanted to join for a long long time.

feels good.
s

p.s. if you're somewhere "out there" hit me up!

On Feeling Sick

2009-11-03T14:54:00.002-05:00

I have been feeling totally gross for the past 14 days. I've had the flu complete with body ache, fever, sore throat, and more. I'm beginning to think that since the symptoms have lasted for so long that maybe I was afflicted with some type of [insert animal here] flu. bird? swine? who knows. And if diseases can be spread via bad smells, then there's plenty of that around here too.

I'm getting better, though, and now I'm down to just a head cold but I can't stop sniffing. And yesterday, I sort of fell...on my bum...down the stairs. Trust me, it wasn't cute or graceful and I've had a wicked headache and back ache ever since.

Coupled with the head cold, I've been kind of uncomfortable (not as miserable as I was when I was sweating with fever and inhaling fumes from the ongoing construction in the building last week), but still mildly uncomfy. And missing mom's food. And finding it hard to sing. As I said to a friend via email, "being sick, abroad, alone is basically the loneliest thing I've experienced so far."

I still love India though. Definitely love India.
shelley

Out on the Town

2009-11-02T05:29:00.005-05:00

Since diwali, I've been out "on the town" a few times experiencing the other side of Mumbai (which I've often heard about) and it's been very very fun. I was so meant to be here.

Meet Vikram:

Vikram is my cousin, Vivek's good friend who lives in Mumbai. He's always keeping me posted on cool happenings in Mumbai. He's also one of the nicest people I've ever met which compensates for his rash driving habits. :-)

He works for Airtel (one of the largest telecom companies in the world I recently learned) and he invited me to a corporate marketing event. Basically, to get the word out about the release of their new car, the Xylo, along with a big radio station and a famous radio jockey, Mahendra (big car company) held the "Time of Your Life" Karaoke singing competition in 21 corporate offices around Mumbai and chose one winner from each office. Then, they invited all the contestants and their friends to this swanky club and held the finals. The winner got a trip to Italy for 4 days. So, needless to say, we're not talking about a small event which few resources were poured into. Instead, we're talking about the kind of event I imagine Ford might put on in New York City. It was so incredibly western, I could hardly believe it. The place reminded me a lot of the club, Vision, in Atlanta (anyone know that place?? can I get a what what!). Starting from the very marketing concept right down to the decor and the songs that folks were singing (Elvis songs, "When you Say Nothing At All," etc.) it was about as Western as anything I'd expect back home except that there were a lot more black-haired folks. Here's a couple of pics so you get a feel for what I'm talking about:

Aseem (pictured above) is Vikram's collegue who was in the competition from Airtel. When I asked him what got him interested in singing, he said, "Umm...not sure. I take a shower every day I guess is how." Brilliant answer! I can relate.

Another night out was to a club called Hawaiian Shack. For you non-facebookers, here's a few pics:

Again, Vikram, who is my main source to most fun outtings in Mumbai, invited me out with his friends. I sort of scandalously snuck out to see what a real club in Mumbai is like. Some random observations:

Whoa, there are other women here -- native Indians in fact -- who have short hair! I felt some solidarity. Also, they had the most amazing playlist which took me back home. Songs/artists included "Best Days of my Life," "I Will Survive," Journey (this band is determined to follow me around the world no matter how far/hard I try and run from it), The Eagles, & Nelly Furtado. And even more surprisingly, everyone knew all the words to the songs. I haven't been to tons of clubs back home, but the scene here isn't all that different: the girls are wearing a lot of the same type of skimpy attire, and they're constantly adjusting their uncomfortable tops and tossing their hair from one side to the other. Y'all know the scene, right. One thing that is different, however, is that the men seemed relatively civilized. I'm told that it's because we're in Mumbai, not Delhi, but I think that in general, it's much less acceptable to walk up to a woman and hit on her or grind up against her, so people were refreshingly well-behaved compared to what I'm used to seeing at clubs back home. They also had a Nirvana poster on the wall. Love it. Haven't seen or heard about them even once since being here except from my own ipod so that was cool.

In general, it was great to get out and meet some cool new friends, Vikas and Ashwini!, and check out the young, Mumbai social scene. I could fit in for sure.

Finally, here's a pic from one other recent night out in Mumbai. Vikram to the rescue again! We went with a handful of friends to The Hard Rock Cafe which, apparently, is the same here as anywhere else in the world. The other two places I just mentioned at least had some Mumbai flavor, if only a little. But with HRC, if I were blindfolded and dropped off there, I wouldn't know which city or country I was in even by the number of Indians since there were so many farangis. The decor was...well, you probably have an idea. Here's a couple of pics anyway.

It was fun, though. I liked seeing the Tom Petty guitars and homages to Tina Turner, Janis Joplin, John Lennon, and others. I miss that stuff a little bit at the music school.

Yesterday I went to see a movie for the first time since being here. Finally, right? I'm in Mumbai for goodness sake, movie making capital of the world. I saw London Dreams which was incredible for the first half. But then, after the intermission, it got all, well, "bollywood." Not sure what I was expecting.
Here's a couple of songs from the film although sorry the second vid is the song only (not available on RSS; see original post). Sona - I'm trying to keep you up to date!

But as for the experience in general, it was lovely. The theater was gorgeous, plush seats (assigned seating here which was interesting. Otherwise, as Vikram told me, people would bum rush the theater for the best seats in the house), and nice decor. They have caramel popcorn here (awesome!) as well as nachos and the rest. The drink cups aren't nearly as big as back home which is probably a good thing. On the whole, I liked it, but I remember going to movies here as a kid and the floor wasn't carpeted and there were guys whistling at each heroine who came on screen. Missed that a little...

I'm back to serious singing these days though so there will be a lot less going out.
shelley

Random Updates

2009-10-30T13:43:00.011-04:00

Hi Everyone!For you non-facebookers, here are some pics from Diwali (if you're catching this through an RSS feed, check out this post online)

For many families in India, Diwali is a time to get new clothes or household goods which you've been saving up for all year. Well, not that I needed an excuse to wander around the markets since I can basically do that all day everyday, but I too treated myself with some goodies.
Hey, when in Rome..., right? So I went out the market and bought myself...

a fruit bowl! and...

a new door mat! and...

Our hall had the most broke-ass, saddest phone, so for a whopping $4.26, I invested in the most fly phone I think I've ever seen and then came home and decorated it even more.

Ever seen a bright yellow plaid phone? I didn't think so. :)

Other randomness:

Here's a pic of me sitting in my window skyping on Diwali

Even though I've been sick for the last week or so and I hear it might be from eating out, I'm still as keen on going out and eating from all the little stands and eateries as I was before. Can't let a little flu come between me and my juice-wallah. I'm strongly considering choosing the next city I live in based on availability of good Indian street tasties. :)

Juice from my favorite Juice stand. Here we have watermelon and mausumbi which we don't even have back home. Sheesh, America, get with it.

My fave dairy where we go and get "Masala milk," e.g. the most delish flavored milk.

Finally, a pic of the happiest blogger you've ever read.

love,
shelley

Who's Indian? I'm Indian!

2009-10-27T08:12:00.002-04:00

Hi all,
I haven't really blogged about my birthday yet and my parents' trip although I posted pics here in case you missed them. Basically, I hung out with a long list of celebs on my birthday including Suresh Ji (my guruji), Dhanraj Pillay (a superstar hockey player who I met during the Atlanta Olympics when he came with the India team), Johnny Lever (hilarious comedian), Sonu Sood (actor who looks surprisingly exactly the same in real life as on screen), & Debu & Richa Bhattacharya (actors and family friends. Side note: I watched bits of Debu's films with him like Dev-D, Mangal Pandey, and Goal and it was fascinating watching a film while sitting next to the actor. He provided all kinds of interesting insights.)

It was really overwhelming that so many people took time out of their day to wish me a happy birthday. I felt so humbled because these folks are big wigs - they have busy lives and important things to do but they were so sincere.

Best of all was that my parents were here, of course. When they came, I'd already been living in Mumbai for 2 months which was enough to get my bearings and feel comfortable getting around in the city and learn how to manage myself in India in general. We don't get out too often as students, but...let's just say I manage. ;-) For me, the best part of my parents coming was that I could show them around my neighborhood, my territory. We spent some time doing some sightseeing and even had a cup of tea at the famous Taj Hotel, but my favorite part was schlepping them around and showing them all of my hangouts. Obviously that included Juhu Beach where I go for my daily walks, favorite restaurants, my fruit stand guy, my milk guy, the nearby post office, etc. I was the one flagging down the auto rickshaws, giving directions, ordering food, and just getting us around in general. It was all me!

I had some interesting conversations with them, too. I will always be in awe of that great immigrant narrative where people pick up and leave everything they've ever known for...adventure, education, a better life, family, whatever. My dad once told me that back in the 60s and 70s when my parents came to the US to study, it was as if they were leaving India and headed for the moon since it felt so far off. My mom didn't speak to her mom for the first 6 years after she moved, a reality which is practically impossible for me to understand since technology has been available my whole life. Having conversations about what they left behind and how much things have changed is endlessly fascinating for me.

"So, Mom and Dad, what's it like being back? Don't you totally miss this??" (as we're stepping over trash and watching a guy spit up some very odd-colored mucous right at my feet - totally gross but I just love it so much, I can't contain myself). I don't blame them for feeling like the US is home now. It'll always be home for me, too, but right now (and I think for a long time still) India is home. My soul is peaceful and unagitated here.

Indeed, it was a strange sensation to be the one dragging my folks around India. I think they were happy to see how content I finally am. I know that there were many times when I first got here when all I wanted was a friend to relate to - just one! But I didn't have that, and looking back, I'm kind of glad because I can claim the success of getting established all for myself and no one can take that from me. Taking my parents around, I even felt a tinge of pride because I proved (I think) that in a way, I've made it here. I can get around, I can handle myself. I know my stuff.

And all by my grownup self.
In so many ways, I have arrived. At home. At last.

shelley

street food

2009-10-12T14:51:00.000-04:00

IS MY FAVORITE!!!!

and i ate so much of it today too. I can't get enough. Today alone, I went out with friends and we munched on all sorts of stuff together. I had paani puri twice, ragada pattis with 4 types of chutney, a veg mayo sandwich, watermelon juice, and a mixed fruit plate with chaat masala...mmmmmmmm.

What? I can't help myself. Plus, it's Diwaali season so anything goes. (Ahem, I just created that rule, but I'm sticking with it till the end of the month or until my stomach starts protesting, whichever comes first.)

India, don't leave me and I won't leave you either.
love
s

me, most days

2009-10-11T13:50:00.002-04:00

I'm freaking thrilled to be alive. This is me, most days.

I realize that in a recent post, I was wavering about my commitment to being here. It's true, I don't always enjoy every challenge of being at Ajivasan (the music school). But the "here" that I'm wholly overjoyed about is India. It's this country that makes me drop to my knees every day and wonder how I've accumulated such good karma. It must be on the scale of Oskar Schindler or something because I keep coming back to this blog and trying to capture how my heart feels here, and I can't seem to find the words to describe how happy it makes me.

I'm super happy. On cloud nine happy. Vanilla ice cream after no-sugar for lent happy. Reconnecting with an old friend happy. Getting snail mail happy. Singing in the rain happy. Reading a book with a shawl happy. Bubble bath after a long day happy. Deep breath happy. Cheese grits from flying biscuit happy. Lounging around on a Sunday afteroon outside when it's 72 degrees and sunny happy. Sneaking out and not getting caught happy. Camping and roasting marshmallows happy. Sipping on La Fin du Monde happy. Hearing your favorite song on the radio happy. Walking in grass barefoot happy. Shaking the hand of God happy.

I guess there are a lot of different happies I feel here. I can keep trying to describe it and relating it to other experiences, but in the end, there's just the one kind of happy that I can't seem to explain. You know what I'm talking about, right? The one where your heart is physically bursting with contentedness, and you don't want to be anywhere else because you know that this is exactly where you were meant to be in this spot, on this day, in this moment. And the only word you can think of to define it is...happy.

Happy Birthday, Ritu Bhabi

2009-10-09T12:25:00.002-04:00

Hi all,
Here's another very special birthday shoutout to a fellow Libra. Happy Birthday, Ritu Bhabi!

Here's a random pic that I dug up of her and my two nieces. I love that she's expressing her inner rockstar here. :)

About her: where to start? Well, for one, it's a shame that I don't have a pic of us since I lived with her for more than a month and also in practically the same city for the past 2 years (if we can really say that since I was out a lot...).

Y'all, Ritu is my cousin, Sanjay's wife, but I'm pretty sure we were destined to meet regardless of her marriage. At least I hope so. She's a very talented, classically trained singer and one of the main reasons that I'm here in India, actually. She and Sanjay (and my two nieces pictured above, Reva and Tara) live in the suburbs of Washington, DC and were kind enough to put me up (or put up with me, depending on who you ask) for 6 weeks when I first moved to DC in July 2007. Thanks to them, I was able to find a job and housing in DC with relative ease. More importantly, I discovered a lot about myself, too.

This past June, as I was packing my things in DC, I visited them in VA for a weekend, and here's an excerpt from a letter I wrote to a friend while there:

I'm at my cousin's house in VA hanging with them...My cousin's wife [Ritu] is the one who sings to her daughters at night and it used to make me so nostalgic to hear the Hindi lullabies. This also is the same cousin who sang with me and to me and reminded me that I miss it and that singing is a way for me to connect to Home - that place where all is well, it's peaceful, and answers are waiting. I'd just gotten back from Mexico when I moved here, and I spent many nights really lost and sad. But when we sang, it wasn't like that. ~~I suppose~~ No, I'm sure that if I hadn't been living in this house 2 years ago that I wouldn't be off to do something I love...

I guess that about says it. Like I said, I think we were destined to meet.

Dearest, Bhabhi,
Thank you so so so much for your love, your support, your guidance. You were there for me in ways you probably didn't even know. I never came to Misty Creek Lane without crying (tears of joy, of sorrow, of pain, of gratitude, whatever) at least once every trip. It was always such an intense and soul-nurturing experience. It's about the greatest gift you could give anyone.

Hope you get at least that and more in this coming year.
And of course I hope you find lots of time to sing, sing, sing.
with love
shelley

Akasa and Ajinkya

2009-10-06T14:33:00.002-04:00

I'm still lonely. Everyone is so...well on a scale of 1-10, most are between a 1 and a 5. Just to be gracious, folks who are well-intentioned but lack personality get a 5. They have their good qualities, too, I guess. There's no reason for me to be nasty to them in this post, but I miss people I connect with who are genuine. There's always drama here; I keep to myself about 80% of the time.

Amidst all of that, I have found two good friends, and god bless them. They've been angels to me here.

Akasa: She's an impressive 17 year old who is a talented singer, dancer, actress, and probably is good at things she hasn't even discovered yet. She's super sweet and has good taste in music. She exposed me to public buses for the first time, mumbai frankies with schezwan sauce (she has no idea how much this street food lover appreciated that meal), and the heaping Chocolate Avalanche at Cafe Mocha.
Activities we could do any day of the week: bargain in the markets; people-watch at Juhu Beach.

Ajinkya: He's a fun- and McDonald's-loving, sincere guy who is ready to help me anytime I need advice or have questions about getting around in Mumbai. He's got a tattoo also, so points for that. He is a facebook commenter extraordinaire; drives his motorbike (a little too) fast; and orders his hot chocolate with extra whip and chocolate sprinkles every time (which I cannot help but make fun of).
Activities we could do any day of the week: drink a beer; exchange stories about friends back home.

Both of these cats are extremely supportive and sympathetic. And awesome.
And they poke endless at my accent (which I love). :)

shelley

Slideshows

2009-10-06T11:26:00.003-04:00

Hi friends,
I just realized that I could embed an album here on the blog for those of you who can't check out the four albums I uploaded on facebook.

Here's a few more pics from Garba, thanks to Manmeet:

more details soon.
sit tight!
shell

p.s. if you can't see the pics because you're viewing this post through a feed, come check out the original post on the blog.

Sentiments at odds

2009-10-06T06:00:00.000-04:00

Music school is nothing to me if not in India.

This is a telling statement. I finally realized what causes the ups and downs here for me. I love being in India (have I mentioned that?) I feel exceptionally contented when merely visualizing myself in this country, but then realization of actually being here settles in, and it feels like an unexpected, soft white blanket falling from the sky grazing my eyelids. I can't help but let out a sigh of relief, like relaxing every muscle in my body in one breath. It's unreal how much I belong here.

I got a postcard from a friend the other day:
"Hey Shelley friend,
I hope that India is living well within you.
Keep sending your brilliant, positive praise, and we'll keep remembering the beauty in this world. Peace and Love."

[melting]. Yes friend, India is living deep within me. Thriving, in fact. And if I am conveying positive praise or reminding you of the beauty in this world, then it is only because I am here, at home with myself and reflecting how this land makes me feel. I can't even take credit; I give it all to India.

But then I have moments, like last night, where I'm really really mad. Like pissed. I have raging anger that is rising up in my chest and steam shooting out my ears. All I want is to go away (home? not necessarily, just away). I feel trapped and what I'm dealing with seems so unfair. I have to keep letting go. What else do I have to shed? I don't like cockroaches, putrid smells, sitting on dirty floors... (Jodi's solution: "Look, just make a mess on your floor and roll around in it just once and then you won't be bothered anymore.") She's right. I can't change the situation much. I haven't seen a mouse for some time so that's good, but I've seen many more (dead) cockroaches and crickets.

Joan Baez ringing in my head:

Take me to the station
Put me on a train
I've got no expectations
To pass through here again

Once I was a rich man
Now I am so poor
But never in my sweet short life
Have I felt like this before

So take me to the airport
And put me on a plane
I got no expectations
To pass through here again

In processing this yesterday, saying my grievances out loud made me feel like a whiny, American brat. "Oh this is so unfair, pooh on me." Yes, Shelley, suck it up. Get over it. If they're doing it, you can do it. Roll around on a dirty floor, kill some cockroaches and pick them up with your bare hands, go sit in front of a sewage pipe for an hour and breathe through your nose, whatever you need to do.

Deep breath.

Ok, I can do this. How much will I have to keep letting go of? Music, how much will you ask of me? Who knows. Maybe a whole lot more. Maybe I haven't seen anything yet. Maybe in time when this is all over, I'll wonder how I ever considered myself hard core or adventurous if I was having trouble with these minor battles at each turn. I hope I still can look back on my July 2009-self and respect her, but who the hell knows. Maybe she was a total pansy.

My parents coming was a blessing, but I haven't regained all of my focus since partying it up for a week while they were here. For one, my voice feels like I haven't sung anything in ages. It feels like I'd been training for a marathon for months and then didn't run or exercise for 6 weeks. I didn't expect such a dramatic backslide but this means that I have to step up my practice even more.

Easier said than done.

The last couple of days the workload has felt like an unbearable burden. Every day, I have enough practice ahead of me that the pressure feels the same as if I had a term paper due every morning. The evenings are killer. My teacher tells me we're on the right track and I'll be ready for exams in December with ease at the rate I'm going, but I'm not convinced because I can hear myself in class and practice struggling to squeak out a sound. (At least it proves to me that I was actually doing some heavy lifting up until last week).

Basically, when it comes to singing, the road ahead is long and not without bumps. Yeah, I could take the exams and get by, but that's not what I'm here to do. I'm not here just to pass. I'm here to feel driven, find focus, and be the music. I'm here to find my voice. Literally. It's tough. The people and conditions make it tougher. I feel overwhelmed, buried by the weight of my own expectations.

In the end, I guess, I'm glad I'm doing it alone. I can claim this experience as wholly mine until...forever. That's hugely satisfying (but is it satisfying enough?) Plus, while these moods about my relationship to music and practice are annoying (to say the least) everytime they set in, I have another chance to muster some strength from I-don't-know-where and pull myself out of it. That's got to be worth something in the end, right? No one can hold my hand. It's just me and my demons. I guess my other option is to go home.

Not a damn chance.
s

Garba in Garba-land

2009-10-04T15:25:00.003-04:00

Just before my parents arrived in Mumbai (on Sep 28th morning), I went to Vadodara (formerly Baroda), Gujurat to witness Garba, a massive 9-day dance event. We celebrate in the US, too, but I was going to the center of it all. It's kind of like seeing St. Patty's day in Ireland...how could I resist the opportunity?

Let me take a moment to explain my own love affair with garba. I went practically every fall starting from middle school through college. Getting to go to garba was enough of a reason for me to study extra hard in the months prior, go to bed on time, do my chores, whatever I needed to do to make sure that my parents would let me go. I tried to earn as many brownie points as possible in August and September. My parents never actually said no because they knew how much I loved it (and, because -- I like to think -- I was generally a good kid) but just to make sure, I would still cover all my bases and do everything I was supposed to. Then, finally, the celebration would arrive, I'd pick out my clothes days in advance and get all my jewelry together. And on the night of garba, a friend or two would come over, we'd spend a couple of hours trying on everything and making sure every details was perfect down to the bindi placement. Around 10 PM, we would parade in fashionably late like we owned the place. (Thing is, that's how everyone went to garba, so we were only fooling ourselves about being hot shit.) We'd walk by the front entrance a couple of times looking for people we knew (aka really cute guys who looked dashing in the kurtas that they only wore once a year at this event) and then pretend like we didn't actually take a lot of time and care in getting ready and not make eye contact with anyone.

When we finally entered the hall, we'd scope out all of our friends who we either knew from school or only from garba. (I have facebook friends now who I only saw once a year at this event, no kidding.) By then the music would start and we'd dance our hearts out all night, and come home at 5 AM with huge blisters on our feet and legs that would be sore for a week. Sometimes, my dad wouldn't let me go to garba the next night unless I wore socks because our feet were so banged up. But I mean, come on, only the uncool kids would be wearing socks! So I'd put them on to satisfy him and then immediately take them off in the car. :) (Sorry Dad, my teenage-self couldn't be that uncool. I just couldn't.)

So, now you understand why I had to travel 5 hours to see Garba in Gujurat.
I owe a special thanksto my Bhua who lives in Vadodara, my cousins Rajan, Sharan, and Manmeet, and also Saanya for making this trip happen for me. A couple of weeks ago, when my 1 day trip was finalized, Manmeet told me that we may or may not have passes to dance, but we definitely would be able to watch from the stands. Hmmm...this wouldn't do so I begged her and pestered her to do whatever she could, pull whatever strings she needed to in order to get us in to dance. Sitting in the stands and watching basically wasn't an option because I wouldn't be able to prevent myself from jumping the railing and disappearing into the crowd. Did I mention there were 25,000-30,000 people there? Yeah...that was reason number 1,045 that I absolutely had to be there. Below is a vid from the event a couple of years ago. (here's the link)

When we got there, the game plan was to approach the window with the bubbly Saanya who has an impressive record of pulling off such stunts 100% of the time. "Hopefully," she said, "the guy behind the counter will recognize me and will give us three passes, but we'll see. If not...well, let's just not think about that," she quickly added after seeing the distressed look on my face. This event was the most high-tech, secured event I've ever seen in India. Each person had a pass with a computer chip in it which produced a photo of the pass-holder when scanned. There was no way to collect a bunch of school ID's and pass them back, assuming that the bouncer would think all brown people looked alike and not notice like we used to in college. Instead, we were purely counting on Saanya to work her charm and if that didn't work, the backup plan was for me to go up to the counter, flash my US passport and speak in the thickest American accent I could conjure (more points for a regional accent like a southern one) and beg them to let me in since I'd come from so far to see their wonderful tradition and I'd heard so much about it, blah, blah, blah. You know, be a total farangi. If there's anything I can bring to the table here in India, it's an American accent, so I planned on that, but as I was standing in the back of the line rehearsing my lines for the security guy, Saanya waved back at us. She'd done it! Still undefeated, Saanya. Not bad, sister. Not bad at all.

We pushed our way to the inside of the grounds and the floor was dirt. Freshly packed dark brown dirt that felt so cool between our toes. It just added to the sensation of being in Gujurat, experiencing a generations-old tradition, and actually dancing on the earth. Yet again, I find myself in India looking up at the heavens wondering what more I could want from life.

Surprisingly, not much else was different about Vadodara vs. Atlanta. For instance: There was the corner outside of the grounds for the 16- and 17-year-olds to see and be seen, and they were wearing clothing that was just as scandalous as anything I've seen back home. There were girls on their cell phones leaning up against their cars waiting for guys in kurtas to meet them. We walked away with blisters this time as always. I got hit in the face a few times (and probably hit a few people in the face too) but that's part of the experience. There was a break in between rounds where we stepped out for some space and to get some cold water and in Gujurat as well, apparently no one listens to the organizers who are screaming important announcements into the microphone. After we left, I blew my nose and a familiar black gunk came out that only happened once a year at garbas back home. Everything was the same. I felt so at home and so alive.

After it ended and we got home around 3:00 AM, we rested for a few minutes, and then I got ready for my train ride back which left around 4 AM. I arrived in Mumbai by 8:30, rode the local back up (alone! yay me!) just in time to get to class at 9:45 AM. All in all, it was a short trip full of dancing and train rides which ended with a neat little bow on top.

Never in 1 million years did i expect to be dancing on red earth. In Gujurat. On the last day of Navratri. With 30,000 other people. I can't wonder enough times about how good this journey has been to me.

next time: trains and the parentals.
with love
shelley

Sharan Bhabi, Rajni Bhua, and Manmeet

with Saanya, the Garba fairy ;-)

hello, twenty-seven. nice to meet you.

2009-10-03T15:30:00.002-04:00

Hi Friends,
I've been busy with my parents being in town so I haven't been updating. In my next update, I promise to include details about my over-the-top birthday (it was larger than life, Mumbai style), my trip to Baroda, and some musings on having my parents here with me.

They're both gone now and have arrived safely back home. I know that I thought I'd be bummed after their departure, but I feel quite differently. I feel re-energized, ready to get back to practice and back to the routine which I (surprisingly) missed. I certainly milked it while they were here, no doubt - staying out late, having beers with friends, coming and going from the academy as I pleased, skipping 6 AM riyaaz...

But now I'm feeling like I want to make sure that I don't miss a minute of making this best experience possible. I had to pinch myself again today. Is it true? Is it possible that I'm in Mumbai, sitting in my window sill feeling the fresh cool breeze of a monsoon rain and listening to the thunder? Is it possible that I saw the setting sun over the ocean again today? Is it possible that there's anything more to life than feeling this content? Is it possible that this experience is more than what I asked for (even though I asked for so much)?

I'm so happy it hurts. I could go right now and it will have been a nice ride on planet earth. I could actually go.

But I'm here...it must be for something.
27's gonna be good. It already is.
shelley

(Me and Mom at Ram Lila at Churni Road on Dusshera)

Dear Friends,

2009-09-16T15:42:00.002-04:00

drop whatever you're doing right now, and please come to India. God, I miss y'all. I just want to be able to talk to someone in my normal American accent and be understood. Someone who I can walk down the street with who will also get stared at. Or someone who will look at the canal next to the school and comment on how incredibly disgusting it is, wonder what is in the water that could possibly be causing that smell and also wonder what the toxicity level is. It'd be even better if there were someone here with me who would also mutter in their heads "are we still on planet earth? I feel far from anything familiar."

While I feel incredibly lonely most days, I received good news the other day: my Dad's coming, my dad's coming, my dad's coming!!! Ahhh, music to my ears. I feel like I'm at summer camp and I just found out that I get to go home for a weekend. My dad is making a trip to India at the end of them month, and he's going to see me for a couple of days at the end of his trip. His coming is exciting for so many reasons.

To name a few...
...seeing a familiar face is going to be hugely comforting and familiar, like that first sip of a cold coke (you totally know that feeling, don't you?).
...he's going to be here on my birthday...yeeeeeeee!
...I can point out all the little things I've been telling them about. "See what I was talking about? Doesn't this smell totally gross?" or "See? isn't the beach just fabulous? Now do you get why i go everyday?" or "Check out Mansi; doesn't she sound amazing??" or "Check it out - I've perfected my street-crossing skills here!"
...my parents are the two people who can relate to my experience the best. They're the only people I'm close to who know India well, know what life in the States is like, and they know me fairly well. This is a खतरनाक (dangerous/kick-ass) combination of understanding which has made my relationship/conversations with them a real asset since I've been in Mumbai. I also got news that my mom is trying to make plans to visit at that time, too. Is there anything better than seeing your mom when you're homesick? I don't think so. I really really don't think so.

Without any doubt, I am my father's daughter. I think like him; I look like him; I can be OCD about rearranging the things on my desk like him; I argue like him; visualize the big picture like him; even my feet are his. We sort of "get" each other like no other dad-daughter duo that I know.

I'm a lot like my mom, though, too. Actually, I'm told that I'm starting to look more and more like her as I get older; I relate to people like she does because she's one of the most outgoing people I know; I get my fighting spirit from her since she'll never allow herself to be taken advantage of or put anything shy of her best effort forward. I have her temperament, and I got my creativity gene from her, too. I owe my mom more thanks than I could ever give for all of the attention and time she devoted to me growing up, shuttling me from one practice to another 7 days a week.

I could go on and on about them, and they are a seriously hard act to follow. But at the end of my days, if I am half as compassionate, outgoing, sincere, self-assured, and content as those two cats, I will have lived a full life.

I'm reminded of this Yo-Yo Ma & Bobby McFerrin song:

I already know that when they leave here, I'm going to be sad. Being in India with them is completely amazing because they explain so many little details that I would never catch otherwise. It makes me wonder how much I'm not catching these days without them here. I'm already bracing myself for their departure so that I don't plummet into some kind of semi-depression because knowing that I'm going to see my Dad (and hopefully mom) gets me through most days here. Even though I'm putting a lot of energy into practicing, and music is becoming a trusty companion that I can lean on, that process is slower than I'd like.

I'm also turing a whopping 2-7 this month which I'm trying not to make a big deal about. It does make me feel really old, though. The end of my 20's is coming up so soon, and I haven't accomplished half of what I wanted to do by now. I haven't gone to grad school yet, I haven't taken an around the world trip, I haven't run a marathon, and I haven't learned 7 languages.

Still, not to be ungrateful towards the Universe, it's worth taking a moment to recognize that it's been a fun 27 trips around the sun. In that much time, I have accomplished more than most, traveled my fanny off, felt agonizing heart ache, eaten the most amazing food, partied really hard, earned a college degree, watched Obama get sworn in, laughed so hard I've peed in my pants (although if I had to do this one over, I would try not to do it in the middle of chemistry class), asked a lifetime's worth of existential questions, seen the Eiffel Tower, painted a huge mural on my own, felt lost and found, disconnected and reconnected, bought a hot pink dress, read more books than all of the students here combined, talked to God, seen the sunset over the Arabian Sea at Juhu beach at least 20 times, and now...I'm in India. Yeah, I'd say it's been really really good.

27, bring it. Bring it with everything you've got. I can take you.
And Dad -- hurry up already. Bring Mom.
love
shelley

p.s. this is my most fave pic ever of my parents:

belated Birthday shoutout

2009-09-16T14:16:00.003-04:00

hi all,

happy birthday to Ankur!

here's a couple of pics from my brother's wedding reception in Atlanta after a lot of dancing (one with me and one with my grandfather).

A note about Ankur: Our dads went to college together in Punjab back in the day, and when he first moved to the US, he stayed with us while job hunting, and getting settled. We used to stay up until odd hours chatting and making fun of each other and the differences between Indian and American culture. Like how some people pronounce Wednesday "Wed-nez-day" in India, or how in Punjab they turn the "zjh" sound of words like measure or pleasure into a "y" sound. Somehow being here and thinking about these things alone just isn't the same...no one gets the joke.

hope you had a good one yesterday, Ankur. And be nice to Neha, ok? ;-)

I'm behind on posting but school has been a bit intense lately. I got some sweet snail mail today though, and one of them was from a friend I haven't been in touch with since high school which was a most pleasant surprise.
:D <--- me when I got it.

promise more soon,
shelley

Birthday shoutouts

2009-09-13T22:10:00.000-04:00

Happiest Birthday greetings to Kamal Aunty and mom-to-be, Kelly Foresman! I dug up these two pics of the birthday girls.

Me and Kamal Aunty from Lohri celebrations at our house (Jan 2005):

Me and Kelly from our Thailand/Cambodia adventures (July 2005):

A note about kelly:
We lost touch for about 4 years and recently re-connected over the phone a few weeks after I got India. We spent 2 weeks together backpacking through Thailand and Cambodia and it was...adventurous to say the least. It was definitely a life-changing trip.

I recently revisited pictures from that trip. Here is a link to pics from perhaps the most memorable part of the experience which was a journey across the Thai border into Cambodia. As you can see from the captions, this was an early attempt at photo journalism. :) Our story is also detailed here in a blog post from back in the day, and a friend had a similar experience which was hilarious to read.

letting the good times roll,
shelley

Oh, John

2009-09-13T14:08:00.000-04:00

John! Couldn't we have talked about this first??

i got it i got it i got it

2009-09-12T15:04:00.002-04:00

The ridiculous mattress mission is finally accomplished.
Feast your eyes on 15 kilos of comfort/facilitator of sweet dreams:

...which is exactly what i'm about to enjoy.
i have lots of updates which are coming soon,
s
p.s. please keep the emails coming :)

09:09:09 09-09-09

2009-09-09T09:09:00.008-04:00

To celebrate this auspicious date, I am posting a silly pic of me blogging. This is pretty standard attire, as well as spot on my bed, and placement of laptop for all who were curious. :)

I'm posting at 09:09 Atlanta, time, too.

She's testing my limits

2009-09-09T07:22:00.003-04:00

For me, living in India is effortless in some ways and extremely challenging in others. As I wrote in my last post, being here does feel like coming home. Spiritually, anyway.

But parts of India which are excluded from "home" are the people I've met (to a large extent), and the physical environment.

Getting to know India is a bit like traveling with a friend. You probably feel like you know a lot about the person before you start this adventure together, but an extended trip together really can strain a friendship. It tests you because all your sh*t hangs out and same with your friend. You learn that your travel buddy is actually a really different person than you thought. Maybe they're a really picky eater, or don't like sightseeing the same way you do, or have no sense of direction. Invariably, you get in a fight over something little (or big), but then, if you're lucky, you hug it out and keep going. I'll say that I've had at least a few travel buddies (to name a few: Kelly in Thailand, Julie and Dessa on a cross country roadtrip, Vanessa in Mexico, Micah in Guatemala, and Jodi on a couple of monster roadtrips), and I've really lucked out because we're all still talking to each other after putting each other through hell sometimes when we were on the road and had no where else to go to get away from the other brat in the vehicle.

I say that getting to know India is a bit like this because actually, I arrived thinking that I knew a lot about the place. But living here is such a different story!! I like it here, I really do, but some of India's idiosyncrasies are getting on my nerves.

For instance, I'm still learning to judge people's intentions. I really don't know how to communicate here. People seem nice on the surface but there's a lot of meaningless gossip. The people I've met seem to be a bit more two-faced, selfish. I find that I'm speaking the same language as people, but they say one thing and mean another. Not every Indian is like this - obviously -- but indirectness seems to be the rule and sincerity the exception. A lot of the time, communication is seriously unnecessarily complicated.

Also, what's the rule for efficiency around here? I was just wondering if one task - just one task that I needed to complete could take less than 10 times longer than it does back home? Apparently this is too much to ask. Example: I need to get a new mattress for my bed. The mattress is shop is across the street (literally, I can see it from our driveway). I've made 3 trips already, coordinated the guy coming over here to take measurements of the bed (since he couldn't just take my word for it), arranged for a vehicle to go pick it up, and also negotiated the price. Despite all of these arrangements, I honestly have no idea when I'll get this mattress. Apparently it only takes 12 hours between the time of placing an order and having the matress completed, but by that approximation, I should have my mattress by exactly 13 days ago. :-)

And oh my god, India is physically a very different place than what I call home. I'm not used to living with mice running in and out of my room, seeing rats in the kitchen, stepping in urine, feeling lightheaded from the stench of BO, and so forth.

I'm still trying to figure out how much I need to give in order to be able to live here in peace. How much of my attitude do I have to change? Should I just get over my American tendencies, accept that I'm making a mountain out of a molehill, and stop worrying about the mice in the building? I mean maybe expecting to live in a vermin-free environment is really just asking too much? I honestly don't know anymore.

I miss smoked gouda, draught beer, and people I can relate to. Basically I miss home, but I don't want to go back yet. I just need to figure out how to move with the current here. I have given in to so many habits of India, changed my standards in so many ways, let go of so many tendencies and ways of thinking (or so I think). But I might be ready to draw the line here pretty soon.

India, you are testing me and judging me. And all this time, I thought we were friends??
shelley

p.s. Advice is welcome

Pinch Me

2009-09-08T05:54:00.002-04:00

Dear Universe,
Thank you, thank you.

I am almost unbearably happy here. So happy my chest hurts. My heart feels full, like it might just pop out of my chest but continue to throb right here in front of me, pulsing in this dusty, humid, coastal air. I have a habit of thinking about India as "that far away place that I will hopefully get to visit again sometime." That's how I've thought about India basically my whole life. I was lucky enough to come visit family often as a kid, but this is only my third time here in the last 10 years. After a gap of 7 years, I came once for 10 days in 2005 and again for another 14 days in 2006. Barring those 24 days, I've spent practically all of my adult life remembering India and longing for it. Since I turned 18, that's 6,526 days of feeling connected to this land, this देश, unbearably craving it, wanting to be in it, needing to experience it, feeling my heart quicken at the thought of it, and hoping for a chance to get even closer to it.

See, me and India, we've had a long distance relationship for almost 27 years. We've seen each other a few times face to face, but it's never been long enough, and I always had to leave too soon. Plus, we're BFFs. We go together like peanut butter and jelly, like daal and chawal. I just get her and she gets me. She knows who I am. We can be together and not say a thing, and we're both on the same page with a simple glance. I've known her all along and I've carried her with me everywhere. I've talked to her in my thoughts, and waited, waited, waited to finally be together. While I don't know everything about her little habits and she's still learning about me, we both know all we need to about each other like true friends would.

And now that we're together in the same place, it's even better than I imagined. I was prompted to write this post because I was just reading about the Mahabharata in a book some minutes ago when I lapsed into my old habit of wondering when I'd get to be in India to learn about ancient Hindu myths other than from a book and be surrounded by people who grew up learning about it. But a moment later, I remembered that I am here. Actually, really and truly Here. Then I pinched myself just to be sure. Yep, it's true. Hell yeah - I'm in India!!

Finally, finally, oh finally. I am home and with my self.
shelley

A poem by Derek Walcott:
The Time Will Come

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door,
in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other's welcome,
and say,
sit here.
Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine.
Give bread.
Give back your heart to itself,
to the stranger
who has loved you all your life,
whom you ignored for another,
who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit.
Feast on your life.

another fave song

2009-09-07T23:23:00.002-04:00

can't get enough of this A.R. Rahman song from Delhi 6:

"Khazaana"

2009-09-07T13:49:00.005-04:00

Khazaana (खज़ाना) means "treasure" in Hindi (and Urdu) and that is exactly what I received today: a boatload of goodies. My cousin, Shy, kindly trucked across town to pay me a visit during his short stay in Mumbai. I didn't realize that my parents had sent some stuff with him, though, so it was a pleasant surprise. Among other things, I got a webcam (sweet!) so for those of you who are equipped, I can video chat now too.

In other news, I have heaps of school work to do. I've got songs to learn (both singing and playing), vocab to memorize, and more than anything, I have at least a few hundred practice hours ahead of me between now and the time of my exams in December.

Along with all the singing, though, I'm sharpening my Hindi reading and writing skills. I wrote about it a couple of days ago on our photoblog. (Is anyone even visiting that site?? Please check it often! Bonnie and I have put a great deal of work into getting it up and running and it's turning out to be a badass project.) The funny thing is, I was talking to my mom today and she was writing down some of the lyrics from my songs I was telling her about. After not writing in Hindi for 30+ years, not surprisingly, she was jotting down the notes in English. Still, I had to make fun of her a little bit.

क्या ज़माना आ गया? ;-)

Here's another pic of my hindi notes. You can tell it's my handwriting because of the green pen, of course.

peace,
shelley

Bollywood...what what!

2009-09-06T13:15:00.006-04:00

I'm kind of a sucker for watching dance competitions on TV and all of those cheezy dance movies (Breakin', Step it Up, Bring it On, Save the Last Dance...yes, so cheezy, terrible acting and predictable story lines, but usually amazing choreography. And let's not forget Breakin' II: Electric Boogaloo)

Here's the "Bollywood" theme episode of MTV's America's Best Dance Crew which aired last week:

America's Best Dance Crew (Season 4) - MTV Shows

I mean, really - just because it's from India doesn't mean it's Bollywood, people. Calling Kathak and Bharatnatyam "Bollywood" is like calling Classical Ballet "Break Dancing"...ummm, really not the same. But still, I liked the costumes and was impressed by the performances. The reinterpretations were well executed. nicely done. and wah-wah once more for bollywood.

Thanks to Vinod at Sepia Mutiny for posting this.

Birthday Wishes

2009-09-05T15:15:00.000-04:00

Dear Suvrat Bhaiya,

Thanks for always being so supportive, even if you do always ask those
big bro questions:
"are you being safe?"
"are you sure about this?"
"have you done all your research?"

;-) I don't mind, you're just doing your job.

Hope you have a wonderful birthday and that this year brings you
everything you want and then some.

hugs
shelley

wet pants

2009-09-05T14:28:00.003-04:00

I stepped in dog urine yesterday. In the hallway. Outside of my room door. Barefooted. Yep, it happens. And this isn't the first time. I tracked it into my room and it was on my pants for some 2 minutes before I could determine the source of the wetness on my foot.

You know, I really do love India but there are somethings that I doubt I will ever get used to. :)

shelley

thinking about mt pleasant

2009-09-04T00:40:00.001-04:00

dos gringos sunday brunch in particular.

Happy Birthday

2009-09-03T23:49:00.000-04:00

Birthday wishes to two special people:

My sister-in-law, Preeti. Happy Birthday, Parjaiji!

And to my cousin, Sanjay. Did you buy yourself that Porsche for your Birthday afterall?? ;-)

much love
shelley

stepping it up

2009-09-03T12:47:00.000-04:00

Hi Friends,

I have two pieces of news for you today.

1) String Fever is live!
String Fever is a blog that my friend, Bonnie, and I are collaborating on. We have been working on getting it up and running for a few weeks now and we're excited to officially unveil it. It's a photo blog and we post pics related to a them each week. check it out :-)

2) I am getting my *ss kicked all over the place here! In a good way, mostly, but I am really feeling the pressure to spend more time on my riyaaz (practice) because I have exams in December. So, I'm going to take my other activities down a notch and really focus on singing...which is basically the only thing I'm here to do. I'll try and keep up with the blog as much as possible and I'll still read your emails if you send them (please don't stop!) but it's pedal to the metal, nose to the grindstone here all day and all night.

much love
shelley

Last Day of the Visarjan

2009-09-02T14:33:00.001-04:00

While my household celebrated the end of the Ganpati festival on Day 7, many (the majority, from what I could tell) of households celebrate it on Day 14 which was today.

I've never seen so much dancing in the streets! Hours later, my ears are still ringing from the drummers. It was fabulous - every vendor and his dad was out. No one was wearing shoes, people were sitting on big trucks, parade-float style cruising (more like inching) through the streets, and the idols were huge. Traffic spontaneously became one way in the direction of the beach. It was quite obvious that it was unplanned which was frustrating to some. But what else to do except get out of your car and dance? It was my favorite kind of street party: the kind that's packed so tight that you just stand in one place and let the crowd do the rest.

Here are a couple of pics:

a little ways down the beach where the crowd thinned

going down the ramp to juhu

too good, yaar. too good.
s

American Music - a note

2009-09-01T13:05:00.000-04:00

Oops, I forgot to mention:
If anyone has some suggestions for music, please send them to me or post in the comments. I'm especially looking for the "bridging the gap" type stuff as mentioned below.

shelley

American Music

2009-08-31T23:13:00.002-04:00

There's no doubt the other students here are very talented and can teach me a great deal. But I can't leave here without at least introducing folks to my music tastes and some classics. Even though India is being exposed to so much American culture these days, not everyone is getting the same doses of western pop culture, and certainly the culture the US is exporting is by no means representative. With respect to movies, only the biggest English movies make it here (the Spidermans and X-Mens); with respect to music, there's mostly huge recording label type stuff (Jonas Brothers, Hannah Montana -- can you believe she's on backpacks over here, too??, Justin Timberlake, etc).

The students here don't know much about the US outside of this mainstream garbage (no offense intended). So, I've taken it upon myself to broaden their musical vocab a bit. This, my friends, is no small task.

On the list is Bob Dylan (obviously and thank you, Jodi), Jenny Lewis/Rilo Kiley (my personal favorites), 112 (ATL!), Arrested Development, The Beatles, John Legend (Pat, I am including pics in the John Legend lesson), Nelly Furtado (the early stuff), Outkast (more ATL), Erykah Badu, Lauryn Hill, Joan Baez, M.I.A., Madeline, Modest Mouse (for you, Micah), Spoon (the good stuff, Duncan), and Queen to mention a few.

Sometimes I just play whatever's on my ipod playlist, too, but I find that if I give no context, I lose them. They already find it hard to relate because sometimes the lyrics are hard to understand, so some background helps. For instance, when I mentioned that Freddie Mercury of Queen was Indian and Parsi, they were more intrigued. To make the process a bit easier, I've been introducing music which bridges the gap like Penn Masala (U Penn a capella group that sings Hindi and English songs which they found fascinating. I spent a lot of time convincing them that the really weren't using any instruments) and the band Goldspot, whose lead singer is South Asian.

Here's a video of Goldspot's Friday. My friend, Sundeep, sent me this song over a year ago. Sorry I can't embed, but click and watch on youtube.

Here is the Hindi version of the song:

A friend here plays the guitar quite well and we have made our own cover of this song complete with harmonies and our own little twists. It's not great but it's been fun putting it together and messing around with the lyrics. I'll post a recorded version soon, so sit tight.

As for the other music I play, sometimes they hate it or aren't in the mood to listen to stuff they don't get, which is cool, too. I guess can understand that if someone grew up on Indian classical and Indian pop music, they might not love Radiohead on the first go. Baby steps.

peace
shelley

Ganpati Festival Part II: Visarjan

2009-08-29T22:37:00.003-04:00

Today, we celebrated the last day of the Ganpati Festival, the visarjan, and took the murti down to the beach. It started pouring about 5 min after we got there, so I had to put my camera away.

Here are a few pics, though.

The idol in the decorated truck headed to the water.

Muneeraj Ji decorating the truck

After all the dancing down the street, the idol is unloaded and carried to the water. On the left in red is Ravi Tripathi, playback singer, Indian Idol Season 2 finalist, and former student of the Academy.

Final rituals on the sand

[this is about where it started raining so mo more pics at the beach]

After running back home in the rain and changing into fresh dry clothes (isn't that the best feeling?), sitting and seriously enjoying a cup of chai.

More soon,
shelley

ladies and gentelmen, allow me to introduce...

2009-08-27T06:57:00.008-04:00

Mansi! Mansi, you know, my harmonium who arrived today. I name lots of my "things" and my new, beautiful harmonium's name is Mansi. When I come home (please don't make me tell you when that will be), I'll bring her along.

Here's a pic of this new instrument which is about to be more loved than Budweiser at a NASCAR event.

Off to play!
shelley

Time travel

2009-08-26T02:01:00.004-04:00

I was talking to my mom the other day and she asked me if I'm getting along with the other students. Do they think I'm weird? Cool? Indian?

Yes, I'm definitely getting along with folks. Open communication isn't really "in" here, and I've noticed that there's drama in the hostel. There's only 5 of us, but everyone really doesn't even talk to each other. Strange. One kid moved out of his room so he could change roommates. It seems complicated, but I haven't gotten embroiled and don't intend to. Instead, I have individual relationships with people. One friend and I, for example, spend a couple of hours a week teaching each other literature. He was fascinated by my books and picked one up, but couldn't follow too much of it because he didn't know most of the vocabulary. I have given him some little assignments to read chapters or a few pages and then we sit and I explain it to him. Translating helps my Hindi skills for sure. And he also helps me by reading Hindi or helping me learn to write and explaining Maharashtran traditions to me. There's a good amount of lighthearted mockery, too. Comparing our accents is endlessly fascinating. :)

But as for whether the other kids here think I'm weird or not...I really don't know. I think they're still trying to make sense of me. On one hand, I have boy cut, type fast and have lots of electronic gizmos. I read a lot by their standards and speak American English. All of these are signs that I'm modern.

On the other hand, I also speak a different slang and use typical Hindi words in certain instances. Sometimes they correct my speech, not because it's inaccurate, but because whatever I'm saying is kind of antiquated. This has led to many hilarious discussions here. The other day, I said "yeh swad hai, nah?" [This is tastes good, right?] and they laughed at me! "Swad?? Who says swad. We say 'tasty'." (If you're not laughing, I guess you had to be there and/or speak Hindi. Trust me - it was hilarious!)

I wear Indian clothes more than they do. I wear toe rings, a nose ring, I have a guchha for my keys (a big, traditional, silver key chain that jingles like from Devdas if you've seen it), and I like to wear shawls when it's cold instead of sweaters. I do all of that back in the States, too, so I'm not putting up a front or adopting the style from being here. I'm probably a little over-the-top old school in those ways, and I think it's hard for them to make sense of this modern/traditional merger. Hell, it's hard for me to figure it out. Apparently, I'm walking around like a cross between a high-energy facebooking photographer-technogeek and an old lady from a small rural village in Punjab about 60 years ago who likes to chill and drink lassi. What can I say? I just do what I do.

Still must write about American music and boutiques but sit tight, my lovely audience.
love from Mumbai
s

"I've got Bombay under control"

2009-08-24T15:20:00.001-04:00

Well, not really, but Sona told me that should be the title of my next post because I was telling her that I know how to get around in this area. Here's some stuff I've got down: a handful of cafes within walking distance scouted out, my favorite dairy (yes, they do vary in price and quality), my favorite fruit stand, my favorite pav bhaji guy at Juhu Beach (mmmm!), where the public bathrooms and sewage drains are so I know where to hold my breath, which crosswalks (if you can call them that) are least dangerous, how to get to McDonald's in Bandra and Domino's in Parle (those are the only places that my friends go after class), and where to get stationary for letter writing. See? I've got Bombay under control. ;-) kidding, I just know how to do the dailies. I'll get out to explore more soon enough.

Some updates since the last post as promised:

GanpatiJi (also called Ganesh) is the elephant God in Hindu tradition. In any ceremony, the first prayer is always to him. I'll be honest, I don't know much about him except for the story of his origin. The Goddess Parvati went to take a bath and created the form of a little boy to guard the house while she was bathing. When her husband, Lord Shiva, of the Hindu Holy Trinity, (Brahma the creator, Vishnu the purveyor, and Shiva the destroyer) arrived, the little boy didn't know who he was and didn't let him in. Shiva, outraged, chopped the boy's head off and when Parvati came out, she explained that the child was theirs and asked Shiva to save the boy at all costs. So the first head they found was that of an elephant and Ganesh was born.

I have arrived in India at the start of the 'festival season' (sah-weet!!). Starting from Rakhi in early August all the way through New Years, there are festivals at least twice a month celebrated with various levels of fanfare. In Maharashtra, there is an annual Ganpati festival which is about 1 week long (households celebrate for 3, 5, or 7 days) and it is one of the year's biggest festivals. Households bring a murti (idol) into the home on the first day which was last Sunday. There are ceremonies to welcome him and ceremonies every day for the next week. Here in the school, since my teachers live upstairs, all of the festivities have been in the home just a flight of stairs away. There are pujas (prayers) every morning and in the evening. We even have our morning classes near the murti and sing in the evenings. There's lots of yummy sweets and gorgeous flowers which are brought in every day to re-adorn the murti. It's all quite beautiful and on the last day, there will be the visarjan. The visarjan is a wedding-like procession with huge speakers and marching band, the murti is carried to a body of water and deposited. On the 7th day, all the households will be carrying their idols to the water as a final offering to close the festival.

We don't celebrate this festival in Punjab, really, so I've only heard about it. I've always imagined a little lake or maybe a river where people take their murtis. But guess where we're going on Sunday? The Ocean! The awesome Indian Ocean! Holy Moly - we're going out to the big wide sea! I can't wait. And there will apparently be thousands of people, and if you know anything about me, you probably know that I like crowds. Love them. I like to be in the thick of it, and I am so looking forward to being shoved around in a dancing crowd. I'll post after the ceremony, of course, and have some pics.

In the meantime, here are a few pics from the ceremony last Sunday when the murti arrived at home.

Flower arranging and other preparations going on for the welcoming ceremony. (And some texting ;-))

The floor was painted with footprints to signify the Lord walking in. In the rear is the decorated stand ready for the murti.

Bringing in Ganesha

Ceremonies (my teacher and the priest)
more ceremonies (standing up for Aarti)

more soon!
love
shelley

a note on food

2009-08-22T06:22:00.008-04:00

The food here, at the school, is really delish. While I'm in a grand city with lots of international chains, the food that's cooked at the school is very traditional, simple, home-style cuisine. It's not exactly Punjabi because it doesn't have the same masalas, but it's kind of a toned-down version of what I'm used to. It's also very balanced: there is one daal, one sabji [lightly stirfried vegetable dish, you could say], roti, and rice for each and every meal (lunch and dinner, that is). And somewhere in there, whether it's due to one of the vegetables, some paneer, or the daal, there's plenty of protein, and enough (but not too much) starch to make it filling.

I don't think that I have consistently eaten this well since I was a kid living at home. Basically, since high school when I started getting a little burned out on Indian food and had the freedom of a car to eat Taco Bell whenever I wanted (my restaurant tastes have dramatically improved, you'll be pleased to know), I haven't eaten so much Indian food for such a long stretch (although I really did start missing it while living in DC so I started cook more often). But also, going back to how well-balanced it is, because pasta isn't the go-to meal anymore, I'm not eating out 3x/week, and since I'm relying one someone else's cooking (which is mostly a relief, although I do miss being in the kitchen; my joblessness in my last days in DC prompted me to many more eating-in than eating-out nights), I'm finding that my diet has a lot less starch, calories, grease, and preservatives. Yay for fresh, homemade food!

I did, however, go to Domino's Pizza the other day with my friend, Akasa, but that was more because I wanted to get out of the house and it was coincidentally lunch time. It wasn't so miserable eating pizza, though. ;-)

I'm blogging about food for another good reason which is that 30 days ago, today, I left the US. And, as some of you may know, the 30 day mark is usually pretty significant for me (as I wrote about from Mexico and also from Thailand). I usually start missing food back home, the variety of cuisine, and -- with the exception of Mexico -- every other place I've been for 30 days always, without fail, leaves me craving cheese. And if I'm not missing the comforts of home, I'm at least thinking about it.

But this time is different. I'm not yet missing cheese so far (thanks in part to Domino's, I guess) and I'm not missing home-cooked Indian food, obviously. I'm not really even missing home's luxuries, although, trust me, it's not because I'm in any sort of luxurious place. Basically, I'm just so dang giddy about being here, I can't be bothered with thinking about home. (This is Home!) Most moments I can hardly contain myself I'm just so overhwlemed with finally getting to hang out in the motherland. It feels so right. If my friend Pat were here, she'd probably say, "Shelley, you're one thrilled little citizen, aren't you?" Yes, yes I am.

Maybe in a little while I'll be singing a different tune (although highly doubtful), but for the time being, I cannot imagine any other place satisfying me the way that India has. I like the way that every time you pass someone on the street, you get a whiff of the worst body odor you've ever imagined. Until you pass the next person, that is. I like that I live near the sea. I get to see the ocean every day of my blesséd life. I like that I get to speak endless amounts of Hindi, incorrect grammar and all (phone hota hai ke hoti hai? Will someone please explain this to me??). I like calling the guy behind the counter at the convenience store/shack (and the rickshaw-wala, and the pharmacist, and the guy who does the laundry, and the security guard, and everyone else) bhaiya. "Eh bhaiya! Zara ek packet kurkure ka dena! Aur ek chocolate [pronounced chawk-lette] bhi dhena, bhaiya! Chalo ek Thumbs Up bhi lao. Kitne hue, bhaiya?" [loosely: Hey mister! Can I get a pack of chips? And I'll take a candy bar too. And, what the hell, throw in a Thumbs Up [wannabe Coke], while you're at it. What's it come to, Mister?"]

love it. love it. love it.

One other thing before going. I want to mention the blog Sepia Mutiny which is a blog by/for/about South Asians in the diaspora. I just discovered it today. Where have I been? It's so fabulous.

Next time on shellEy here and there...
Ganpathi Puja, boutique designers, being so from here and so not from here, and American music.

have I mentioned I love it here?
shelley

see?

2009-08-18T11:46:00.003-04:00

This is how we celebrate India's Independence back in the A-town.
That's what I'm talkin 'bout! :)

My Patriotic parents. (They're so cute.)

Happy Birthday, Rohini!

2009-08-18T04:21:00.003-04:00

Hey Rohini,
Hope you have a great birthday today. How is turning another year older? I get to brag for another 43 days that you're a whole year older than me. :)
love
shelley

p.s. dug this pic up from three and a half years ago from India Nite in Athens. :)

sweet sweet mail

2009-08-18T03:32:00.005-04:00

So the mail system actually works! I have had my doubts until today when I got my first piece of mail. This small, dignified envelope had a number of stamps on it, an antique-looking postmark, and my name written in tidy blue handwriting. It might as well have come to me from 1920. Shoot, I felt like I was in 1920, eagerly opening the correspondence like I hadn't communicated with anyone outside my small town in weeks, when in fact I am in the world's fourth largest city and had been surfing the internet only moments earlier.

Mail takes up to 15 days to mosey across the oceans, but I sent some stuff back home and it arrived there safe and sound, too.

So this is a reminder that if you have snail mail tendencies, then send away already in your best handwriting and funkiest envelopes and I promise I will make it worth your while by responding.

Here is my address again:

MY FULL NAME (be sure to write in bold and caps)
Ajivasan Music Academy
Next to SNDT College
Santa Cruz West
Mumbai, Maharashtra 400-049
INDIA

In other news, this is my 100th post. Yeah! When I started this blog more than four years ago and wrote about that blasted rooster (I still remember how annoying it was), I didn't know how much I would come to enjoy this space, documenting my journeys (figurative and literal), and most of all, sharing with y'all.

Thanks for coming along and, as always, stay tuned...

love
shelley

tumbling

2009-08-17T14:45:00.003-04:00

I finished Eat, Pray, Love yesterday and I really did enjoy it. I can't help but feel a little cheesy for liking a book like this, but she has some good points. Most importantly, her words have made me realize more than ever that something big is going to happen here and it will probably happen through music.

I can't say that after reading it, I didn't feel a little bit like running off to an ashram here (I am in the land of ashrams, after all) and sitting and waiting for all of my answers. I felt like that a lot, actually. I've always found the idea romantic, in fact, and I will probably not leave this subcontinent without paying my fair share of respects to ashrams and temples because I won't be able to help myself. But that was Gilbert's path. Mine, instead, is sitting in front of this harmonium. I feel better in my room when it is here. I can feel its energy radiating from the corner, and I can see its glow when I glance in it's direction. There are times when I look at the instrument sitting peacefully on the beautiful red cushion beckoning me to just come, have a little chat with it. So sweetly and innocently, it lures me. It patiently and quietly waits for me whenever I'm ready and promises that it will show me Divine Love when I am ready to open up to it.

But I'm the cautious one because I've been burned before (I've fallen for plenty of wrong pursuits), but it has already professed its love for me and accepted me for all my flaws. And it is inevitable that I will love it back, I already know it. Potentially, I will feel that I am descending into it, too fast to rethink if it's the right decision. Potentially, I will wake up and won't know how it happened, but I'll have arrived there. And the sun will be shining brighter. And I'll only be able to notice the flowers. And I'll have an extra bounce in my step. And I'll feel like I've been drugged, but I won't be able to fight it for all my might, and I'll never want to wake up from that dreamlike state, and I'll feel the whole thing is against my better judgment.

that'll be me. except my better judgment tells me to run towards the glow.
so, i'm falling, plummeting, diving, careening, swirling in a vortex...

Poem for the day is from the brilliant Tagore (seems fitting given my geography):
[note, my friend Beau passed this along to met a few months ago. *thanks*]

"When thou commandest me to sing
It seems that my heart would break with pride;
And I look to thy face, and tears come to my eyes.

All that is harsh and dissonant in my life
Melts into one sweet harmony-
And my adoration spreads wings
Like a glad bird on its flight
Across the sea.

I know thou takest pleasure in my singing.
I know that only as a singer
I come before thy presence.

I touch by the edge of the far
Spreading wing of my song
Thy feet which I could never aspire to reach.

Drunk with the joy of singing I forget myself
And call thee friend who art my lord."

Rabindernath Tagore, Gitanjali

love,
shelley

Yer Not from 'Round Here Are Ya?

2009-08-15T09:39:00.003-04:00

Hello friends,

Today is India's Independence Day. I saw more fanfare around this holiday back in the States than I do here. I hear that people are holding out their patriotism for Republic Day (Jan 26), so we'll see.

Apparently, I stand out like a Bengal tiger would in the North Pole because walking down the street I have to bear incessant staring. Is it because of the way I walk? Are my feet too clean? Or the way I press the bottle of water so close to my lips instead of that desi way of drinking from bottles which always leaves the front of my kameez soaked? Or the way I sling my bag across my shoulder? Or just my bag in general. My nose ring and toe rings are probably an obvious give away. It might be the fact that I keep adjusting my dupatta (but, dang it, it keeps slipping off my shoulder!) Or my haircut (I'm even more glad that I didn't show up here with a shaved head). Maybe it's my obsession with cleaning my fingernails. Or the fact that I visibly react when a putrid smell wafts by. I do not cross the street aggressively (although I am proud of myself for being somewhat assertive). By the same token, I awkwardly negotiate crowds (do I just push through? I know that's what everyone else is doing but there are old ladies and kids in here, I feel weird just shoving them). It could be my big hoop earrings. Or my love for street food -- I'm still curiously craning my neck to look at street vendors long after walking by them (What is that? Is that edible? What would just one bite do to my stomach? Come on, I could handle it...right? Oh well, the moment has passed, maybe the next --oh what's this! This is different than anything I've seen. Is it vegetarian? Could I just have one bite...?)

There are so many reasons I'm a freak here, and most of them I probably can't even guess, but oh well. I have decided that I can't really blend in so I might has well just be weird and accept it.
And I'm also renewing my vow not to stare at FOBs anymore when I'm back in the States.
It's just not nice.

shelley

P.S. Shah Rukh was detained at Newark airport.

lost in the woods

2009-08-13T15:00:00.005-04:00

My brother and sister-in-law sent me a copy of Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. Thanks, Vikas and Preeti! So far, I'm really enjoying it. Except for when I've been blogging, in class, or practicing, I haven't been able to put it down. It's exactly what I was expecting: it's a somewhat cliché story about a woman discovering herself abroad. Gilbert is pretty funny, though, and I like her honesty.

Over the past couple of years, I've met friends who were in a similar "funk." We shared in the madness, in the senselessness, loneliness, and despair of our lives. We were empty, bitter, angry, desperate, teary, and hopeless together. (Admittedly, we were even melodramatic sometimes.) I wondered for months if that feeling would ever go away.

I feel grateful that I'm crawling my way out of it, but the following paragraph reminded me of all of my friends who were right there next to me in the pits.

"When you're lost in the woods, it sometimes takes you a while to realize that you are lost. For the longest time, you can convince yourself that you've just wandered a few feet off the path, that you'll find your way back to the trailhead any moment now. Then night falls again and again, and you still have no idea where you are, and it's time to admit that you have bewildered yourself so far off the path that you don't even know from which direction the sun rises anymore."

So true, Gilbert. For me, my car accident last year was the jolt I needed to boldly admit my lostness. To my dear dear friends who are lost in the woods -- of DC, of California, of New York, of Texas, of Vermont, of Georgia -- Where are you? How are you?

I hope that you, too, will concede temporary defeat just long enough to acknowledge how far you may have strayed so that you may find some peace.

I am grateful to each of you and I'll sing a song for you,
s

swine flu

2009-08-13T12:34:00.001-04:00

I have two updates for today. First, I got another bag of goodies that my cousin, Shy, so kindly brought all the way over here ("all the way" from his hotel on the other side of town as well as "all the way" from Atlanta).

Some treats included more granola bars (my favorite, although regrettably, the kind that has HFCS and other preservatives -- Jodi don't get mad because I can't eat any more Kaashi bars in this lifetime), an apple my cousin specially brought for me (I do miss fresh fruit), and best of all, some homemade paranthaas with homemade nimbu ka achaar. I mean really, people, does it get any better than that? I don't think so. There are few indulgences that can rival freshly made mom's goodies coming 10,000 miles to warm your heart just when you need them. I have already scarfed 2 down at room temperature. Now the question is: do I finish them all in the next week or pick at them one by one, pampering myself only when I'm really missing home? (Also, the fact that I'm in India -- Bharat, Hindustan -- and comfort food for me is still Indian food made in Atlanta could be a whole Ph.D. dissertation, no?)

Secondly, the school has been pressured to shut down for day students for about 8 days due to the swine flu scare here in Mumbai. Residential students will continue their programs as usual. It feels a bit like the movie Outbreak since so many people are wearing masks. Two of my dorm mates waltzed in today with masks on and admitted that they felt ridiculous. Will try and post a pic soon.

peace,

"it has no choice"

2009-08-12T06:30:00.004-04:00

A friend, Annie, sent this to me today and this feeling was starting to creep up on me, but Kafka, of course, says it much better:

You do not need to leave your room.
Remain sitting at your table and listen.
Do not even listen, simply wait.
Do not even wait, be quite still and solitary.
The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked,
it has no choice,
it will roll in ecstasy at your feet.
- Franz Kafka

It reminds me to have patience, deal with my antsy-ness, and just basically chill. In my last post, I wasn't sure if practicing would help me reach all the goals I had, but just sitting in front of the harmonium will result in something, surely. Probably something I need but don't know it.

And I must fully and wrecklessly give that a chance. Anything shy of that is cheating this experience.

The choice to come to India was not an impulsive or spontaneous one. It was the result of a series of coincidences, the sum of everything in my life until now, and months of meditation and on where I need to Be.

I am not here by accident,
shelley

p.s. thanks for the quote Annie!

conundrum

2009-08-11T06:25:00.007-04:00

I gave a mini performance the other night to my parents and an audience of some 10 or 12 family friends. They were each vying for a moment to speak into the mic and were shouting encouraging statements at me. I couldn't see them via webcam, but I imagined them all huddled around the laptop which gave me great joy. I also imagined my parents beaming which is enough of a reason to stick it out here. They are my biggest cheerleaders.

In general, things are pretty good. I'm still just taking it a day at a time. This is definitely not what i came for, but I don't want to quit prematurely so I'm hanging in there and trying to figure out how to motivate to give it all I've got. I've met a couple of cool people but mostly people are a little...lame. They tend to be stuck in their own 24" X 24" lives, oblivious to the rest of the world that exists. I was hoping to meet people who knew who Van Gogh was but that was perhaps asking too much. So is talking about Iranian politics and life outside of India. I'm having to suppress a lot of who I am; a lot of my characters are having to sit in the backseat but I can tell they are hungry to drive.

And I'm definitely improving but I've also re-visiting my goals. I never came here to be on Indian Idol or to be a professional singer. I was honest with myself about what kind of a voice I have. I mean, I like to sing in the shower and in the car...I'm OK with the fact that I don't have the voice of Shreya Ghosal. Music has always been an important force in my life and not because I was particularly gifted, but because it touches me in a way that nothing else does. It pulls at my heartstrings, pinches me, forces me to be honest, speaks to me, slams me down and lifts me up.

I came to get lost in the music, to get carried away, to find centered-ness and discipline, to understand what devotion to one craft means. All of these things are hardly quantifiable which makes goal-setting a challenge. I'm still working on that, starting with being honest with myself about why I'm here. And I don't know that any of those things will actually happen just by practicing. It is taking a great amount of faith (which I don't have every minute of the day) that practice will yield these results.

Time will tell what this experience will mean, and I'm trying to be as open as possible, sometimes unsuccessfully. Also patience is not my forte (...yet?)

I need someone to tell me to just stick it out. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other and it will work out. Although, the only person I'd believe is myself right now so...conundrum.
s

p.s. Also I'd like to give a huge, across-the-world shoutout to my girl, Bonnie on her birthday. Hope that this year brings you everything you need and then some. Happy birthday!

about 1 month ago

2009-08-10T14:57:00.002-04:00

I left DC about 1 month ago (33 days ago actually).

It doesn't even compare to leaving Athens (Feb 2007), although that
may be because I don't remember it as well. From what I remember,
leaving Duncan, Katie, and a discipline that I enjoyed were the
hardest parts of that move. But so was leaving Steeple Chase.
Leaving Athens for Mexico was exciting. I felt like I was on the edge
of being prepared. Just ill-prepared enough to want to go and just
with it enough to trust that I could catch myself. I was so naive I
didn't even know I was stepping into a void. Coming to India required
a whole different set of mental preparations. Contrary to Mexico, I
felt -- very much -- that I was stepping out into an abyss, but
intellectually knew that this wasn't the case, that singing school and
family were here to catch me. This trip required more faith than any
other trips in my life.

Last month was worse than any heartbreak I've ever felt. I don't
really miss DC. You could say that I miss Irving St, though. It was
the first place that felt like home since I moved out of Helmer Rd.
It seems like a lifetime ago. I remember packing my things up the
weekend before, rushing to finish the table project, Jodi helping me
move, putting away the Guest Book, some last minute bonding with Noah,
and so many wonderful friends coming to wish me well in my last days
at The Cave. The road trip back home was painful. Dylan and Radiohead
kept us company. I felt like my guts had been ripped out.

A lot can happen in 30 days.
I was in a different place altogether in my head and in my heart.

What were you doing 1 month ago? Curiously awaiting your responses,
love
shelley

Plug for a fellow traveler

2009-08-09T11:47:00.004-04:00

Everyone, Kelsey is the first famous person to comment on my blog which is every exciting. (See previous Juhu Beach post)

I first stumbled on Kelsey's blog a couple of years ago when I was headed to Mexico and looking for good travel blogs to follow. His blog inspired me to travel with a purpose, to find one aspect of social injustice and write about it because it can open lots of doors. One day soon, I will.

You should check out his site: http://www.whereAmIWearing.com and his recently published book Where Am I Wearing: A Global Tour to the Countries, Factories, and People Who Make Our Clothes. It came out about 8 months ago and I'm trying to figure out how to get my hands on a copy of it here. Kelsey, feel free to comment here with more details, but I would recommend that everyone just go to his site. It's got a fancy new design too. :)

shelley

At Juhu Beach

2009-08-09T09:42:00.006-04:00

I recently discovered that there is an entrance to Juhu Beach just a few feet from the Academy. awesome! The main part of Juhu Beach, however, is about a 10 min rickshaw ride. Went with a couple of friends yesterday (Akasa and Dhruvi), played in the sand, ate pav bhaji, and took some pics for the first time while out in India. Here's what I came up with.

Off for riyaaz,
shelley

Throngs of people on a Saturday afternoon

Juhu is known for its carnival-like atmosphere. There are always vendors with carts like these with all kinds of cheap delicacies that make my mouth water.

Wish we had this kind of stuff back home.

dried "behr"

Fancily cut fruits.
It is a serious act of self-control to not try everything that I see on the carts.

Family at the beach.

Dhruvi & Akasa who took me out.

Akasa's footwriting: "Shelley <3s India"
*sigh* it's true, I'm in love.

An especially bright pav bhaji stand

(mmmmmm)

Birthday Party

2009-08-08T08:11:00.011-04:00

Last night was SureshJi and his Daughter's, Jiya's birthday. They celebrated with a big throwdown at the school in the banquet hall. There were a handful of celebs including Hari Haran, Alka Yagnik, Rahul Vaidya and some other music producers who I didn't know but are famous, apparently. There was an Indian Cricketer and his actress/singer wife, too. It was fun to dress up. I finally got to eat Pani Puri because they had it with mineral water. mmmmmmmmm.

Here are a handful of pics:

With SureshJi (Guru Ji and Birthday Boy)

SureshJi's wife and my teacher, Padma Didi

With superstar Rahul Vaidya (hee hee!) He was really genial. More about him in the next post.

Sort of creepy Spidey moonwalk for the kids

Big kids playing

Family cutting the cake. Jiya's too cute.

3 guys who are fellow hostelites (l to r): Himanshu, Shreyas, Shivum

more students from the program (Geetika and Surbhi)

off to the beach with some friends and then back for evening riyaaz (practice). yessssssss!
Will write more later,
shelley

I speak Hindi, it's ok

2009-08-06T14:32:00.004-04:00

I feel so much like myself again in part because of regular contact with the outside world (read about Iran today on NYT.com) and also because I'm carving a little place for myself here. At first, making friends was a little challenging because everyone knows each other, they have been here for some months and have it sort of figured out, they are a bit younger, and also most notably, they're all Indian (born and raised). I needed to find a way to express myself in a way that was "on my terms" and find ways to connect with people all while trying to figure out who's in the drivers seat.

Slowly, I've been able to do that in the past week. Now people come and hang out in my room after class, I show them cool things on the internet that they've never seen (although they're usually more impressed by my typing speed than whatever youtube vid I'm pulling up). I've gotten to show them some of my art and tell them a little bit about life back home. I also realized that (apparently) I'm a little intimidating. Not my nature (I don't think), but the fact that I'm from "AMERICA." Even though there's hardly a language barrier because I can get along in Hindi and they can manage in English, they'd try to speak English around me or show off their knowledge about the States. So anyway, I've been able to break down some of those barriers, learn some songs from them, acknowledge that I'm in their territory on some level but that I'm more than stereotypes and have a multi-dimensional personality. I'm learning from them but I can assert my own personality a bit more now that I'm more comfortable which feels like a better balance.

In other news and to help Sona, here's another song that's blowing up here.

I can't embed, but you can click on the pic for a link to the youtube vid. Also, I haven't seen any such things as in this video here. No half-naked girls (or guys).

Also, what in the world is this?? I guess I've been up to my ears in misrepresentations and exaggerations by Mumbai-ians about Americans that I forgot how often India is mispresented by the West. This is IFC, so maybe it will be better, but I wonder if there will be a lot of mockery of India? I'm all turned around by being here so I don't yet know what to make of it. If anyone sees the premier, let me know what you think.

class at 6 AM so I'm hitting the hay,
shelley

Can't get enough

2009-08-06T03:41:00.005-04:00

Today has been the best day here so far. I've been able to get past a lot of the weight that was dragging me down in the first few days of being here. I feel like I'm back in the game, focused, enjoying singing, making friends, and I've crawled out of my shell.

I'm also savoring the feeling of being in India. A few days ago when I was looking back at an old post, I couldn't relate to that kind of longing for India. But now that I've opened up a bit and gotten comfortable in my surroundings, I'm back in that place. This morning, my mind wandered to a momentary thought of what it would like to be back in the States and I started to miss it...and I haven't even left yet. I wouldn't choose be anywhere else right now which is very different than "this is where I am supposed to be so I might as well embrace it" attitude. I'm enjoying it and I can see myself succeeding here.

One of the things I love about visiting India is getting caught up on all the good movies and good music. My cousins are always so generous and burn CDs for me or unload a ton of music onto my computer. Here's a song that I can't get enough of right now, esp the first 35 or 40 seconds. It's from a recent movie called Love Aaj Kal [Love Nowadays].

I can't believe I'm in freaking Bollywood. awesome.
shelley

Happy Rakhi

2009-08-05T05:26:00.005-04:00

I was reading over some old posts and re-read the Jenny Lewis lyrics. Don't you just love them?

Sing the song for them
If you sing a song, sing the song for them

To who you are, and will never be
To the shaking hand of the maker we’re all going to meet
Sing the song for them
If you sing a song, sing the song for them

Today is raksha bandan or rakhi. It's an annual Hindu holiday where sisters tie a thread of kinship, you could say, on the right wrists of their brothers. It's not limited to blood brothers and it's to imply that there is a friendly and protective bond between the two "siblings." In return, the brother usually gives the sister a little gift. When we were younger, my brother and I always celebrated rakhi if only ceremoniously on the phone. Lately, since we both moved away from home and Mom's not around to remind us of it, rakhi has come and gone and neither of us has really paid attention since not that many folks do it in the States.

Here, though, the occasion is a really big deal (apparently). Today, I've learned so many things about what a small thread can signify. The other girls in the school tied the threads on all the other boys in the class, younger and older, fed them sweets, did a mini puja (prayer ceremony) and adorned them with a red tikkas (vermilion, which is the powdery red stuff used in hindu ceremonies on foreheads). The boys, usually rowdy and teenagerish, sheepishly sat there and took everything so seriously. Then, we all (boys and girls) tied rakhis on Sureshji (the Guruji) in class this morning and received his blessings. We watched as he tied rakhis on each of the instruments and asked for their blessings in return.

I never thought about it since we hardly celebrate it in the States, but rakhi doesn't have to be about brothers and sisters. Here, it's about a bond and mutual, platonic respect. In thinking about honoring the musical instruments in this way, it occurred to me that so many things in India are worshiped. I used to think that there was a lot of blind worshiping (there is, in fact) but what I saw today reminded me that there is a great deal of faith in this country. There is an acknowledgment of all things Holy. Not to say that this is the case with every Indian or every holiday, but throughout the culture, there is that thread of reverence for the Highest in both the mundane and the significant. Perhaps, because this is a Gurukul (residential academy), music is regarded with such honor and as a blessing from above that today was celebrated in this way? I don't know, but there is a great deal of humility for the greatness of Music, and I appreciate this deferential attitude.

Which got me to thinking about something else. I have to keep reminding myself that in order for me to have a truly meaningful experience here, I have to be as open as possible. I'm trying to remember that and reserve judgment. Things really are different here, though, so that's a constant struggle. Most rewarding are the moments when I remember to be a servant to this craft, let it take me wherever, and to let go of every Thing I brought here.

Happy Rakhi!
shelley

Pics of my room

2009-08-04T11:26:00.021-04:00

These are mostly for my girl, Sona since she asked. Here are pics of my living space. I haven't been complaining about it because there isn't much to whine about. I have ample space, I can keep it pretty neat, I can lounge whenever I want, there's a great window, and a perfect spot to practice in. I've mostly made myself at home as best as I possibly can and that has made all the difference.
enjoy,
s

view of the room as you enter the door. I love the big windows.

another shot of the left side of the room as you enter

a small worthwhile investment I made since there don't seem to be many of these in India

my practice nook. the breeze feels great.

this is the window sill/my little stoop. Minus the bird poop, it is perfect for sitting and contemplating at all hours.

This is one view from the stoop. (See what I mean about contemplation? perfect!)

another view from the stoop. Oh how I love palm trees. A big monsoon gust of wind and all the fronds are dancing.

not sure if you can see them, but these pigeons sit and stare at me. I stare right back but sometimes I think the joke's on me. Do they know something I don't?

If you can manage to wash your face at 5:45 AM in this sink and not get water all over your clothes, then it's a sign that the rest of the day is going to be good. But since that rarely happens, I have to look for other signs during the day. ;-)

It's smaller than what I'm used to, but it does the trick. It's really not so bad.

I'm loving the bucket showers! They are so efficient and I feel so much better about my environmental footprint.

Some of my buddies. Meet (l to r) Macsine, flipVid, audio recorder for class, celly, and Nano (I need a name for my nano. suggestions welcome)

Some other things which keep me company. journals, books, etc. (Josh, you'll notice Einstein's dreams; Leise, there's the Froer book; Bonnie, Beau, and Micah, our journals are on the shelf; Ben A., there's Meditations; and Jodi, there It is.)

Desi shoes

Snack station. Some of these goodies came from America last week.
(Why yes, those are white cheddar cheese-its. How did you guess?)

That orange blossom honey i was mentioning. mmmm!

the people, etc.

2009-08-04T07:53:00.004-04:00

I have been meaning to add some details about the day to day routines here, but I'll do that when I get some pics up. Maybe in a few days.

In the meantime, I was thinking about the end of the last post and what to make of what I termed "what isn't here." I don't connect with anyone, really, who I've met so far. I've met some decently nice fellow students, a few nicer and less judging than the others. But not relating to them in the specific ways that I miss about my friends back home also leaves the door wide open for other conversations; entirely new spaces to explore and new ways to communicate and new ideas to communicate about. That's the positive approach I'm trying for the time being, but we'll see.

I'm staying in the dorms on site and there is one other girl who stays in the adjacent room joined to mine by a (very pink) bathroom. There are three guys who split the two other rooms and bathroom. The residential program is quite small, but there are heaps of day students who come 2 or 3 times a week to attend classes in the evenings. They vary in ages and experience which makes it very interesting. So far, no person I've met cares much for deodorant or synthetic smell-good personal products as far as I can tell.

This fact says a few things to me: while I imagined coming to Mumbai ("sprawling metropolis, glittery Bollywood, high paced and progressive for India!" I'd been told), it is still very, very much India. The last few times that I've visited this subcontinent, I've been struck by how much it has changed, and if you read in my previous posts, I am lamenting, "Oh mera Bharat Mahan, mera Desh kya hua thumhe? [Oh my precious India, my country, what's happened to you?]" I missed the India that was and found it tragic that it was changing so quickly. But this time, I suppose since I'm living here and not taking everything in from the passenger seat of a car, reading billboards, I feel that it hasn't changed much at all. The people who come to the school (and the ones staying here) are quite simple. They aren't the glamorous, Anglicized Indians who star in Slumdog Millionaire. They eat simple food, don't go out much, speak little English, wear traditional clothes, and respect their elders. These stereotypes are still true which is both a relief to me, but also a little disappointing. I expected a different environment in the heart of Mumbai. I don't even feel as close to it as I have in the past. (the links to my previous posts, in green, are interesting reads looking back).

I feel trapped sometimes being in the hostel (dorm) all day. Today I dragged a friend along with me (see? I have made at least one friend) to help me buy some milk from the store down the street. I also picked up a coca-cola which I was hoping would be more satisfying. The 17 minutes that I was gone from the hostel was refreshing; it was drizzling lightly, and we didn't say much. Practice is getting a little redundant and I'm ready to move on to the next lesson but that might not be for another week.

Also, time moves reeeaallllyyy slow here. There isn't anything that I look forward to just yet in the day. It'll come, though, I'm sure.

As much as I miss the familiar, if I were at home right now, I have no idea what I'd be doing. Probably driving myself more crazy. I'm supposed to be Here. I just need to accept that.
s

It's not what I thought

2009-08-04T06:55:00.004-04:00

It's not what I thought it would be (it never is), and I can't say that I love it just yet. But I'm giving us (me and the Academy) a month to get used to each other and we already have in some ways. I suppose this is normal, but in the relationship that is between me and the school, I feel like I am doing most of the giving in.

I really really don't want to leave here wondering if I left prematurely. Or thinking that I didn't give it a chance. Or that I wasn't strong enough; that I let it get me down and I couldn't get up. Or that I knew I could tough it out but I wasn't willing to put in the effort and prove it to myself.

Those sentiments are about the only ones keeping me from packing it up right now. I want to be able to walk away saying that I gave it my best and it wasn't a good fit or that I conquered -- and nothing less.

Nothing's all that miserable; it's just that nothing's that great either. It's boring most of the day. I can hardly relate to anyone here. I talked with Bonnie, an old friend from California (we've known each other for at least a few lifetimes) on the phone the other day, and after we got off the phone, I wished that we were both sipping beers at an ex-pat bar in some remote part of India and that she was sitting across the table from me and we were having our conversation about Place, committment, love, and destiny in person. But that's not the experience I'm having in India. And I can't have those conversations with the people who are here. And that will have to be ok for now.

learning to accept what is and what isn't,
s

get email updates

2009-08-03T13:54:00.001-04:00

Hi friends,
I have changed the format of the blog a bit as you might have noticed. One feature I have added to the right is a subscription form for you to get email updates so you don't have to check regularly or every now and then when you remember. Hope you find it useful.
love
shelley

mailing address here

2009-08-03T11:53:00.002-04:00

Hi friends,
folks have been asking for my mailing address so here it is:

MY FULL NAME (be sure to write in bold and caps)
Ajivasan Music Academy
Next to SNDT College
Santa Cruz West
Mumbai, Maharashtra 400-049
INDIA

Another option is to send stuff to my parents home in Atlanta and
every now and then (every 15 days or so?), I get stuff from there and
they can include any personal mail. I'm inclined to say that it's a
little more reliable since I sent some stuff from Delhi about 10 days
ago and I don't think that it's reached the states just yet. I've
heard that the Indian mail system is more reliable now but I'll
believe it when I see it.

That address:
1297 Helmer Rd.
Riverdale, GA 30296-1220
(USA)

I <3 snail mail so please send stuff.

shelley

i was meant to be here

2009-08-03T01:54:00.003-04:00

There are so many trying things about this experience. I sometimes find it hard to be motivated. Sometimes it's hard to stop thinking about home. My constant tendency to harp on the future makes it hard for me to imagine my life here even for a few months. I have to reign in my curious imagination and remind myself to take it a day at a time.

In the second book of his Aegypt Cycle series called Love and Sleep, John Crowley writes:

What Winnie learned at last, the solution she arrived at, was that we must always choose exactly the path we most want to take.
Doris said to her that people always think the way they didn't take was the way they should have taken. The grass is always greener, Doris said. We are always supposing that the path we didn't take was our real destiny; we think it must have been, because we think that this one, which we did take, certainly isn't.
But we will always feel that way, Winnie saw, no matter what path we choose. And so if we HAD taken that other way, then we would surely by now be harking after THIS way, and yearnign for its consequences, and knowning IT was the one we should have taken: and we DID take it, this is it.
So we have always taken the path we most wanted, the path that, if we had not taken it, we would now be longing to have taken. And we did. We took the right path. WE always do.
A deep calm entered her with this solution, and a solemn sense of privilege...

But I was meant to be here right now. It couldn't have been any other way so I might as well embrace it. I also have no choice but to embrace it. Out of reluctance and necessity, I am here.

I'd be wasting away if I were anywhere else.
shelley

Cruising the Sealink

2009-08-01T14:53:00.015-04:00

Ok, so you were all right. Thanks for all the encouraging comments. My friends and family -- most of all my parents -- seem to have a special faith in me which I don't always have in myself, but I'm grateful for the reminders.

2 days ago, something clicked for me. I realized that I always had the choice to go home. My mom told me that on the phone the other day, too, but yesterday, it (re)occured to me. I could always go if I were that miserable. And the truth is that I wasn't/haven't been/am not. The thought of going home was basically not an option because I knew that no one would judge me for leaving early...except for myself. Inside, I would have known that after 6 days I chickened out and didn't stick it out when I knew I could. Ever since I realized that I'm not interested in living with that feeling, things have taken a whole new perspective. This is really about me and what I make of this experience. Yes, things are different and circumstances can even be difficult here -- for instance, why does it take 5 times longer to get anything done here?? And why, when things are finally accommplished, they are rarely completed to satisfaction? My desis know what I'm talking about -- but from here out, it's up to me.

Vishal, who I mentioned in the first post from this trip, sent me a very sweet email which also helped remind me who's in control. Vishal is actually the person who put me in touch with this school so I owe him lots of thanks for the connection. In his note, he wrote that we rarely have such opportunities to be "free" as I am here in India, and I think he's made a sage claim. I'm here on my terms, so I'd better make my terms suitable.

This week, aside from the lostness, I have thoroughly enjoyed singing and learning about music. There is so much to take in, and this is such a opportunity to delve into my practice like I've never devoted myself to anything before. Just the thought gives me so much to look forward to, but actually sitting and singing is also a joy. It is very meditative and today, I sat with the harmonium for 2.5 hours and did some excersizes. It felt good and I'm looking forward to being on the path to mastering a craft. It's a new concept for me since I tend to jump from one creative endeavor to another restlessly. I wasn't so sure when I first got here, but now I'm positive that if I keep up this energy, that I will grow with the music. This won't be for nothing; I won't let it be.

In keeping with being "me" again, I have resorted to hitting the snooze button in the morning, but only twice for those of you know know my habits and make fun of me for them (ahem, jodi, leise, sheena, tiffany, noah...)

I've also gone back to checking postsecret regularly.

Some background, for those of you who don't know, Postsecret.com is a site that I've checked regularly for about 4 years (maybe more). I discovered it and was hooked from the first time I ever saw it. Frank Warren "curates" this online community art project where people mail in a secret on a postcard and he posts them to his blog. There are 20 new secrets posted on the site every Sunday and I check it basically every Sunday morning as a ritual. I save my favorites (I have about 2,000 saved from every Sunday over the years). Then, I choose one or two faves and post the link as my Postsecret Pick of the Week (PS PotW). I usually pick the darkest ones or the ones which speak to me the most. Here are my postsecret picks for this past week:

and an honorable mention:

New picks from next week coming soon.

One other thing is that I'm posting a very short vid clip from yesterday. Coming back from a television shooting at Doordarshan studios in Worli, we took a new fancy bridge to get back (the Sealink), and there is a great view of the water and downtown Mumbai from the bridge. This is a clip of us flying down the highway. It's a little choppy, but hopefully you can see the skyscrapers, the sea, and the bridge. Also, note how overcast it is. That's how it always is these days because it's monsoon season and there are frequent showers. Sorry it's such bad quality. I compressed it so that it wouldn't take forever to upload with the connection here.

In the meantime, Mumbai, bring it on.
love,
she who is back in gear.

"no cry, no cry"

2009-07-31T13:20:00.001-04:00

That's what my nephew Bailey says sometimes when he's crying really hard and he's uncomfortable. It is so sweet and so heartbreaking at the same time to see this 18 month old console himself (at least I think that's what he's doing). He's one of the people I miss the most here.

Today was the first day I haven't cried since being in Mumbai. Can't say there weren't times I wanted to scream out or start bawling, but I held it together. I miss people I can relate to. An amusing game to play when I'm feeling particularly out of place is to imagine others in the room in the States -- alone and trying to navigate our way of doing things. Trust me, it's amusing and helps me get over the slight taunting aimed at me occasionally.

Spent the day at a TV studio watching a shooting. more details later.
hitting the sack,
love
shelley

taste of home

2009-07-30T12:03:00.001-04:00

My cousin was in Mumbai today from Atlanta and we went out for a few
hours. It was good to leave the compound...err..campus for a bit and
get out. We had a fancy-schmancy lunch (I even had a beer...sshhh!)
and I got some little household items which, now adorned in my dorm
room make it feel a tad cozier.

My parents also sent some goodies from home. Honey, my favorite
granola bars, some awesome cereals, dried fruit, etc. Frankly, what
was most exciting about it was that it came lovingly from them and
that it was in familiar packaging. I can't believe that I'm one of
"those" people, but apparently these small things matter to me which
I've just learned about myself today.

In thinking about why the Publix brand dried fruit makes me feel calm,
I realize it's because this is the first time that I've ever lived so
"far" from home. I'm here for longer than a short vacation stay, and
like I said in another post, Mumbai feels farther from home than most
places because of the differences (in everything). This is honestly
the first time that I'm away from my usual comforts and routine
(moving away for college and then to DC just didn't require the same
kinds of adjustments as you can imagine).

But still, those little things aside, I'm figuring it out and finding
my way. I have a song and a few other lessons under my belt which
keep me occupied during the day so I have something to practice. I'm
not going out of my mind with boredom and loneliness. There was
really no need for all the inner tantrums in the past few days, but
patience is a virtue that I will keep having to learn the hard way, I
suppose. (Jodi, you don't have to say "I told you so")

Besides, it's only been 4 days which is hardly enough time to have
managed this much. So, with that little pat on the back for myself,
I'm going to have some green tea with Publix orange blossom honey.

cheers,
shelley

this is going to be hard.

2009-07-27T04:35:00.006-04:00

really, really hard. nevermind the waking at 5:30, the incredibly small bathroom, the fact that we wash our clothes by hand but they never dry, the lonlieness that is setting in (i think i'll make friends soon, though. hopefully.), the fact that i feel like I can't and could never fit in, or that I got a bad cough a day before school started (yay for that). This is a much bigger adjustment than I acknowledged. The hardest part is that I have to get over my own hurdles, break out of my shell in this new place, find my footing, trust my Hindi, trust that I can at least carry a tune in a bucket, and not be intimidated. What could possibly be so scary? When I remember that, everything is calm.

This morning, I had my first class with Sureshji. I choked back tears, the music was so beautiful. I saw and heard a tanpura for the first time since being here. Its sound can be entrancing. Purely magical. Ah, this is what i'm here for.

still jetlagged,
shelley

p.s. thanks for all the comments and emails. Sorry I haven't had a chance to respond yet, but when I get a more stable internet situation, I'll get to it.

singing in the rain

2009-07-22T18:50:00.015-04:00

Hi Friends!

I'm back at it again, I suppose. I'm writing from New Delhi, India, where I'll be for another 24 hours or so before flying to Mumbai (Bombay) for 6-8 months (maybe/hopefully longer). To briefly update those of you who aren't in the know, I quit my non-profit job in Washington, D.C. to come to India for some months to join a classical Indian singing program before I start grad school next year. I was interested in an intensive training program, and I found one which I am expecting will be exactly the right fit.

I'll be learning under Suresh Wadkar Ji at his academy in Mumbai and staying at the hostel on premises. From what I understand, it will be a very intimate and intensive experience which involves eating communal meals, waking at 5 or 5:30 each day for practice sessions, and singing all day long. The website linked to his name is for the US-based schools that Sureshji's students have opened recently.

As for my decision to come here, I will be starting graduate school next year in the fall of 2010 and I figured this would be the best time to fulfill this desire I've had for some time. There's more to my decision, but maybe in another post.

I love it so much here. I feel at home in a different way than anywhere I've ever been. Yeah, Riverdale feels good, too, but it's just not the same. Your feet getting so gross, fingernails always dirty, so humid everything's sticky, a different smell around every corner, driving on the wrong side of the road (literally the wrong side, as in driving through on coming traffic), wandering cows, the weird smell of your upper lip after eating different foods, turning on the radio in the car and listening to Hindi music, learning Hindi and Punjabi slang, the clothes, the markets...yeh hai mera Hindustan.

I miss it here when I'm gone, but each time, I forget the details of what makes this feel so good, so right. I like the carefree attitudes, the dirt, the feeling that I can be whoever. At once, it feels so far from and so close to what I'm used to. I don't know if that will ever change. I get the sense that after 6 months or longer, I will be homesick. Not that I'll necessarily be craving peanut butter and froot loops as much as personal space, American English, or maybe the ability to walk around and be a "hybrid" which i feel more comfortable doing in the States than here.

Here, I haven't decided exactly who I want to be. My friend, Kevin (photog extraordinaire), told me that we all have multiple personalities and they're all in our individual "personality" car riding along, but it's all about who's in the driver's seat. So I haven't decided who I'm going to let drive here. Some folks I know are taking a backseat: my space-consuming, radical, activisty self (to the extent possible); my tiny, hot water and luxury-enjoying self; my sundress wearing self (i know, some of you -- Brie -- are in shock but it's true); and my american English speaking self (mostly speaking that Indian/British hybrid where you roll the R's, punch the T's, and shift the accents of words). But I haven't decided what to do with the rest of the cast of characters who are still remaining in the car.

I don't know if I want to try and totally blend in or just be that weird American. Both are unsettling and fairly impossible. The former is seriously not possible since I walk differently, wear my clothes differently even if I'm wearing a salwaar-kameez, and refuse to compromise on certain things like getting rid of my nose hoop. (They don't really wear silver hoops here, but instead big gold studs. Weird that one of the things that makes me feel most Indian about how I present myself in the States doesn't really work in India, eh?) But being "that kid" is kind of unappealing as well because I really don't want to unnecessarily stick out everywhere I go. Plus, hello, I'm not really all that "American" as defined here. (P.s. The description of "American" is not a very favorable one.) If I wear whatever I normally wear in the States, I'll be a big freak. Also, I haven't taken a single pic here because I feel so weird and touristy. I will immediately call attention to myself which I'm not yet keen on.

It's not lost on me that a lot of what I'm thinking about is how I will be perceived by Indians. For the last two weeks, I've been caught up with how to express myself here and maintain some of my identity, prove that I'm not a spoiled brat who's strayed from her roots, and also try and fit in a bit. Maybe Mumbai will be different...

About singing:

At the Frankfurt airport on my way here, I heard a Jenny Lewis song, "Sing a Song for Them" (lyrics below) and I thought about everyone I'm singing a song for when I first get to Mumbai.

If you sing a song, sing a song for them

If you sing a song, sing the song for them

For the bats and belfry and the fairies on Main Street

For the deadbeat daddies and the Boulevard freaks

For the little girls with the carousel eyes

And the brick-a-brak finding housewives, losing their minds

Sing the song for them, if you sing a song

Sing the song for them

If you sing a song, sing the song for them

To the never-made-its, and the unrecognized

To the alley rats and the tenement flies

To the weekend tweakers, the blond and the blind

To the ex-thrill seekers in the methadone lines

Sing the song for them

If you sing a song, sing the song for them

To who you are, and will never be

To the shaking hand of the maker we’re all going to meet

Sing the song for them

If you sing a song, sing the song for them

First song goes to:

the One who whispers to me in the wind.

Second song goes to:

my spirit that got me here somehow.

Third:

to my teachers.

Fourth:

to my parents who are not only my wellwishers, but also empower me to live the life that I want and am capable of. They are inspiring, trusting, and supportive in ways that constantly surprise me.

Fifth:

Songs as shout outs to my peeps (you know who you are, DC, ATL, ClayCo., San Francisco, NYC...). Special shoutout to Jodi Lynn.

Sixth:

Special songs to Vishal who helped me find this program and to Ritu Bhabi who helped me find this path.

That's all I've got right now. Stay tuned, my friends.

I'll try to update often.

much much love,

shelley

Life in the cabin

2008-06-25T21:40:00.006-04:00

Hi all, I'm adding some more pics. I also forgot to add in my last post an important detail about my daily routine:

After waking up and eating breakfast, I usually swallow a clove or two of garlic. This helps keep the mosquitoes away and when the late evening arrives and I'm still painting outside (the sun doesn't set until some absurdly late time like 10 PM), it lessens my pleading with the bugs (but only by a little).

My painting spot on the porch:

view from the porch:

check out that sunset. (this was taken at 10:15 PM...!)

Prelim sketch:
Painting progress (still lots to go):

And that's it for now.

-s

Got a cabin!

2008-06-23T19:52:00.003-04:00

Hey all,
For the last couple of days, I've been in Rock Creek which is about 20 miles east of Missoula in a small cabin that I've rented through the end of the month. It's absolutely cute and perfect for painting. There's a huge porch and I can hear the creek running on the other side of the dirt road where th cabin sits. it's kind of paradise. I drove to Missoula to check emails and things but I forgot to bring my camera, so I can't upload all of my pics, but here's a couple from the ad online to give you an idea.

General routine:
wake
paint for a few hours
eat lunch by the creek
paint more
read
paint
sing & play music
paint till dusk
go on a walk
eat dinner on the porch
sing & play more music
read
sleep
(repeat)

Yesterday evening, the sprinklers came on and my paintings were laying in the lawn drying. I scrambled out there to pick them up (they got a little mess up but not too much damage). I'm sure there are some of you who are enjoying the thought of me awkwardly running through the sprinklers trying to save my art (you know who you are).

Pics:

peace,
s

Paint paint paint

2008-06-18T14:51:00.002-04:00

I'm finally starting on my painting projects. (like i said, if you're interested, you should hit me up soon!)

For those of you just tuning in, I'm in Montana after a two-week road trip around the country & through Canada for the principle purpose of painting and working on other art projects during my 6-week leave from work. I'll be back in DC working at the same job and starting other exciting projects there in mid-July.

Keep the comments and emails coming!
much love
shelley

In Bozeman, Montana

2008-06-17T16:36:00.003-04:00

Well, Jodi left this morning to head back to Atlanta. :-( The rest of the trip is going to be a bit lonelier, but I'm hoping that my painting projects will keep me distracted enough not to miss her too much. We spent a couple of days in Missoula before driving three hours to Bozeman yesterday because she had to fly out of here this morning. Missoula was...interesting.

I liked it a lot and was looking forward to it especially since last time I was there, I only spent one night. I've heard about a lot of great activism going on there and have been eager to get back. I have to say, it's certainly as beautiful as everyone says it is, but perhaps because it's the summer and all the students are gone, it felt a bit like a sleepy Montana town. I was at first thinking that I'd spend a few weeks there painting and being productive, but there was such a lack of energy there that I didn't feel motivated or inspired. I did meet some cool people there and some of my other good friends are spending the summer there so I could always go back and re-connect with old friends which would be fun.

But now that I'm in Bozeman, it seems like a fun town. The pace is a bit faster ("faster" used loosely because it's still Montana and certainly can't be compared to DC where I live) and the city (town?) feels a bit funkier. quirkier. Not more, but a different character than Missoula so I'm going to try this for a bit. More than anything, my poor canvases are itching to get out of the car -- or at least I'm itching to take them out. So the sooner I can get to that, the better.

Oh, and the weather here is incredible. Montana's weather has treated me well: 75-80 degrees and sunny. perfect for al the sun dresses i brought.

take care and keep in touch!
shellEy

p.s. click here to add my blog to your google RSS feed!

a few more pics

2008-06-14T19:59:00.003-04:00

The transcanadian rainroad runs right through the mountains:
A view from the gondola up to a peak in Banff (correction from a few posts ago: I was only at 8,000+ feet, not 11,000):

View from the peak of the valley and Banff city. Definitely worth the terrifying 7 min ride up the gondola:

The lakes were so pristine:

4,444 miles later...

2008-06-14T19:35:00.006-04:00

We're finally back in the States. After almost 2 weeks of driving through Canada and it's only highway, it was time to come home. ;-)

Actually, Canada (and it's people) were quite beautiful. Last night, we soaked in the hot springs (fun!!) before settling into our tent in a provincial park in British Columbia. Then, today we drove through BC's Kootenay National Park (those mountains look like babies compared to the giants we've been sleeping amongst in the last few days), crossed the border into Montana at Eureka, then drove through Whitefish and Kalispell and around Flathead Lake (breathtaking).

Since driving from Atlanta, Lola's been 4,444 miles.
We've hit 5 out of 7 Canadian provinces that border the US (most notably, flat Saskatchewan), camped for 11 nights in freezing temperatures and in rain, and have yet to see the night's sky since it seems to always be daylight at this latitude (even at midnight).

We're in Missoula, Montana, a sort of final destination. Jodi is flying out of Bozeman in a couple of days, leaving me here to paint and swim in the rivers. I updated the google map with our whereabouts: http://tinyurl.com/5h5jpd

I'm uploading just a few pictures here, but when I have more time, I'll add the rest from the trip so far.
hope you're well!
shelley

Entry to Banff National Park:

Athabasca Falls in Jasper National Park:

Hipster Jodi at the falls:

Soulmates at Lake Louise:

Another shot of Lake Louise:

Leaving Banff today

2008-06-13T18:22:00.003-04:00

These last few days in Banff and Lake Louise have been great and relaxed. Very different than the hurried, trying to haul it across Canada for 12 hours/day pace we were at last week.

Yesterday we went on a hike and then treated ourselves to pizza. Banff is quite a huge town with all the amenities you might not expect in a mountain town like movie theaters, large malls, etc. I also went on a gondola to the peak of a mountain, some 11,000 feet up. Pics coming soon,

peace,
shelley

In Banff (not Ban-iff)

2008-06-12T17:30:00.004-04:00

Hi all,
So we're in Banff, Canada. It's another place I've been waiting a while to see and it's more spectacular than the build up in my mind, even. We're going on a day hike today, then settling into some hot springs and maybe even some wine. (!)

I bought an incredible piece of art yesterday in Lake Louise and had a beautiful conversation with the gallery owner named Nick. It's a painting done by a Native American from the Chippewa tribe. For those of you who know anything about the painting I bought in Mexico, you'll be happy to know that I actually stayed within my means on this purchase.

This morning, we actually took showers. And hot ones! Bathing for the first time in 7 days was nicer than I imagined and the sun was out today. This morning, we drove from Lake Louise to Banff, windows down, soaking in the sun, smelling the mountain air, and listening to Willy Mason's "So long, so long, I'll be moving on." Please don't be too jealous, but I understand if you are. ;-)

I'm looking forward to Montana, though. Itching to get my brush on a canvas.
pics of banff soon, keep the emails and comments coming.
much love
shellEy!

At Lake Louise

2008-06-11T18:25:00.003-04:00

I've been wanting to visit this part of the world for as long as I can remember and I can't even believe I'm finally here. There are no words to describe its beauty, but here's a coule of pics just to give you a taste. more soon.

on our way to banff,
shelley

we're so hott

2008-06-09T09:59:00.008-04:00

Actually, it's quite cold in Saskatoon. But try building a fire without much kindling and some wet wood. betcha can't do this:

Meet Lola, our trusty VW Bug with a classy sign:

View of Lake Superior from Duluth, MN:

Tettagouge Point in Northeastern MN:

entering Canada:

Marshmallows!

Maps, maps, maps:

A typical campsite:

Summary of Saskatchewan. Yep, an entire 250,000 sq mi province can be summarized by this pic:
On our way to Japser via Edmonton today.
much love
shelley

in saskatoon, pics coming soon (hey, that rhymes!)

2008-06-09T00:30:00.001-04:00

hi, we're in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, a place i never imagined coming to. it's quite interesting. we're actually camping right in the city. it's also getting colder and jodi and i both realized we weren't prepared for this weather, so we raided a store today to get sweatpants, long johns, and other goodies. Well, not exactly raided, but we did pick up a handful of essentials. we drove a solid 10 hours today, and we've come a total of 2,394 miles. we hope to be in Jasper tomorrow. perhaps we'll even a shower in the coming week. also, i updated the google map to more accurately reflect our trip: http://tinyurl.com/3nxygp

from duluth, we drove through the scenic northeastern lakes of Minnesota and then up through the Lake of the Woods area of Ontario...stunning. i promise the pics will be worth the wait.

thanks for all the great vibes. please keep sending them,
much love
s

In Duluth, Thunderstorms a-coming

2008-06-06T19:06:00.003-04:00

So far the trip has been great in all the moments that I've remembered to have faith that everything will be OK, and that everything will fall into place in its own time, and that the universe is taking care of me. Last night, we camped in Mill Bluff State Park in the rain. The mosquitoes were relentless. Jodi called them "Kamikaze mosquitoes" because they really would fly right into us with such force before they landed and started sucking our blood. There were swarms and swarms in the sticky humid evening. They were in our eyes, our mouths, and on every deet-less inch of our skin. I must have at least 30 bites from the half hour I was exposed to their shenanigans. After a satisfying mean of cheese quesadillas cooked on the camping stove, we ran for cover in the tent, spent the next few minutes killing the buggers that managed to get in there, too and passed out before being awoken by the storm around 4 AM.
Still, it was an adventure worth having.

The weather hasn't always been on our side. We're staying in windy Duluth, MN tonight with some friends in order to avoid driving through the tornadoes in the Midwest. We'll hit the road to Winnipeg tomorrow morning.

Also, we stopped outside of Chicago yesterday to have lunch with my cousin, Vivek and my aunt. Here's a pic of us (I'm singing!).

When I opened my email today, I found a quote that said:

"It is more important to know where you are going than to get there quickly." -- Mabel Newcomber

Yes!! In this spirit, I'll be living up the next few weeks. Please email, I'd love to hear from you. I'll get back to you as soon as I can.
much love,
shelley

Rocky Start

2008-06-04T07:14:00.002-04:00

Still in metro DC area. You're right, we were supposed to be in Detroit by now, but we ended up leaving kind of late yesterday, then we needed to buy all our last minute things (food supplies, propane, etc.) and before you know it, it was 6 PM, so we decided to stay in Virginia. My cousins graciously let us crash here last night but the worst part of yesterday besides not being able to hit the open road, free as birds as we were so looking forward to is that we (I) lost Jodi's wallet. She handed it to me, I put it in my bag, and we don't know what happened to it after 3 PM or so.

So that's been a bit of a downer, but who knows? Maybe it's somewhere on the floor in Lola (our overstuffed VW Beetle)? To everyone reading this, please send us good vibes that we may find it.

One other thing: some folks have asked exactly where we're going. Please feel free to check the tinyURL link from the previous post which will take you to a google map. I just updated it, too.
Our general route is:

DC
Chicago, IL
Duluth, MN
Winnipeg, MB, CA
Regina, SK, CA
Medicine Hat, AB, CA
Banff, AB, CA
Jasper National Park, AB, CA
Glacier National Park, MT
Missoula, MT
Bozeman, MT

the rest is undecided.
More pics soon,
love
shelley

Adventures of Shelley

2008-06-03T15:51:00.001-04:00

Hey hey! It's been a little while since my last entry, but I'm writing because I'm off again. I am fortunate enough to be granted a leave of absence from my job (www.globaljusticenow.org) and I'm going to be roadtripping around the country, camping, and painting*!
Here's our potential route: http://tinyurl.com/3tx9n4

I'm going without much more of a plan than that, a tent, and an easle. I'm traveling with my dear friend (and soulmate) Jodi, and we'll see where the wind takes us over the next few weeks.

To start my trip off adventurously, I went to the hair salon yesterday and practically asked them to surprise me. Here's what I ended up with.

Anyway, stay tuned and I hope you're all well out there!
much much love,
shellEy

*I have a few projects lined up, but if you're interested in having a custom painting done, please email me! I'd love to create something just for your place. you can find some examples of my art here:
http://www.chinnan.com/Gallery/myart
http://www.chinnan.com/Gallery/Taj

tree house

2007-05-04T04:34:00.002-04:00

just wanted to mention that i stayed in a tree house. a real live one. I have to climb up some stairs to get there and then slid down a green slide to come down. and it was in the jungle. who needs a 9-5? (just kidding)

You can see more pics at http://chinnan.com/Gallery/mex11 &
http://chinnan.com/Gallery/mex13
i'm ready to come home; I miss spaghetti.
shelley

cheek sweat

2007-04-28T16:54:00.000-04:00

My cheeks were sweating today from the heat. seriously. I can't remember the last time I was in a place this hot and humid and I was hiking around. Palenque is high up in the mountains, but it's all tropical jungle as opposed to the woody pines of San Cristobal (which I'm beginning to miss now because of the weather.) Still, it's nice to be in the jungle. The Mayan ruins are beautiful. They're pretty well preserved and they've done a nice job making them accessible without being too destructive. Still, it's hard to imagine what it was really like 1000 years ago.

Here are pics: http://chinnan.com/Gallery/mex11

I'm headed to Bonampak and Yaxchilan (across the border in Guatemala) and then, if I have time, Lago de Atitlán in Guatemala. I really do miss Oaxaca, so maybe my last couple of days there, and then back to Mexico City and then back to...reality?

shelley

30 day mark

2007-04-26T20:56:00.001-04:00

I am celebrating 30 days away from home today. Right around 30 days is when I start missing my mom and Indian food. 30 days out of the country means I start missing regular shampooing. But, for the time being, I'm OK with the cold showers, the limited -- mostly unwashed -- wardrobe, the distinct, but not too strong, body odor, walking, the back aches, the constant dehydration, the filthy restrooms and all the other backpacking discomforts. I could spend another year doing this, but it'll be nice to go home and have some Punjabi channa and roti.

I'm in San Cristobal, Chiapas and I'm leaving for Palenque tomorrow. From there, maybe to Guatemala to see Lake Atitlán. Maybe I'll go back to Oaxaca where I feel like I left my heart. I'm back to feeling lonely, but I'm hoping that the feeling will pass when I'm in the jungle amidst ancient Mayan ruins.

shelley

Where to go, what to do: Calling all suggestions

2007-04-25T10:58:00.001-04:00

I'm in San Cristobal, Chiapas. I kind of thought I'd never actually make it here.

I'll spend a couple of days here before moving on. But, to where? Do ya'll have ideas on where I should go in my last 2 weeks here? Send me your thoughts or comment here. I need some inspiration...

Some details on the Gallery:

I added captions and pics from a protest I observed in Oaxaca. It was pretty rowdy in the streets, and they shut down the centro early. The whole time they marched through the streets, I was wondering where the cops were? There were at least 500 people demonstrating, and given Oaxaca's recent history, I was wondering why there weren´t police everywhere. But, when we got to the centro (to Santo Domingo), that´s when I saw them. It was one of the scarier sights I've seen in Mexico. They were lined up in even rows, looking straight ahead waiting for the march to reach them. There were about 100 from what I could guess, and they were in FULL riot gear. I'm quite sure they were ready to gas the entire city if they needed to. (Take my word for it; I didn´t have the guts to take a pic.) Luckily, there was no violence, but the city shut down suspiciously early.
Here are pics:
http://chinnan.com/Gallery/mex7

I also added a few final pics to the En Oaxaca folder which I took in my last days there (I have been away for 12 hous and I already miss it!):
http://chinnan.com/Gallery/mex3

Also, in one of my last days, Vanessa and I went to see some ruins which aren´t far from Oaxaca in Mitla.
It was a great day trip and I saw something like I'd never seen before. Details here:
http://chinnan.com/Gallery/mex8

Finally, I added some pics of impressive graffiti art to the graffiti folder:
http://chinnan.com/Gallery/mex5

Hope you enjoy!
shelley