Upon arrival at the airport the immigration line was rather
long. I went to the one that seemed shorter and waited for my turn. Immigration
to any country always makes me nervous, I always imagine angry officials asking angrier
questions such as: “why are you here?, where did you hid the drugs? Why are you
taking our jobs?” I reassured myself remembering that now I carry the beautiful
blue, bald eagle, “we the people…” passport of my new homeland: The United
States. I get to the immigration cubicle and the first question after opening my
passport is: “Why are you here?” … Thankfully it was not in an angry tone and
it was clear that he was really asking if I was a tourist or a student. Still my
years of somewhat negative experiences made me feel terrified for a few seconds.
I explained that I am a student and everything seemed cool. I noticed that in
each cubicle there is a small elephant decorated with a red umbrella, I peer at
the elephant and realize it is concealing a camera. Smiling was the only thing
to be done. The immigration officer that welcomed me to India had orange hair,
he was very friendly but his hair was startling. Latter, I realized that the color
was caused by henna and the orange color was meant to cover his white hair.
It was 3 in the morning when we arrived and 4:30 AM by the
time we were all in the van. There were two young men waiting for us. They are
students from the Master’s program in Social work, who, despite the hour and a
half wait, greeted us with enthusiasm and warmth. As we came out of the airport
the soothing rain made a timid appearance. I could feel the wet air on my
forehead and my hair (as it instantly curled up into a perennial frizz which I
still sport everyday) I inhaled the India air deeply, the smell of rain was
placid to me. I felt incommensurately happy, expectant and fully awake. India
has been in my dreams and captivated my imagination since I can remember. I
always imagined being in contact with people from far lands, so different from
me, with internal worlds so diverse and rich that my travels would not only be
about going to places but about meeting and talking to people.
The first impression of Kochi was of men wearing Dhotis
(traditional piece of clothing wrapped around the waist of men) It is like a
male saree. There were dozens of men waiting at the airport, all dressed in
short or long dhotis. They are the norm in this part of India, and, although
men wear pants, dhotis are predominant. They are worn by men of all ages.
The house where we are staying is right in front of the
school. Its big, has three rooms, two bathrooms, a dining room, a kitchen and a
multipurpose room where the refrigerator is located. We are currently using it
for drying our clothes… that is if anything can be actually dried in this
humidity. My bed is located in the middle;
I share it with my Colombian friend Candy. We share the bathroom with two other
girls. There is really no privacy.
Actually, that’s not totally accurate, I have a mosquito net which prevents the
entrance of the annoying creatures. When I am in my mosquito net, I feel secure…
seriously.
My friend using her mosquito net
The garage, outside of our house
The first meal was Indian rice pancakes (apom) and some peas curry. There was also chai and a variety of banana that I hadn’t eaten before. It is a good combination with the rest of the food. The banana is sweet and it helps counteract the effect of the spices from the other food. My mouth has had very few restful moments; for the most part its busy savoring peppery food that overwhelms my palate. I have gotten used to it but, pepper is so predominant that it is hard to distinguish any other flavor. In fact, I realized recently that the salt shaker here is the one with one hole whereas the pepper shaker has three. The exact opposite to our dining experiences. There is one moment of my day though that it is pure joy, I call it mango – paramburi combo. I go to the corner café and my friend or “Chettan” serves me a smooth, silky, divine mango juice and a fried battered banana.
Our meals are all served in the Rajagiri dining hall. There
is a system to sign up for meals. All the U Maryland students must sign up or
opt out of each of the three meals served. The campus follows a strict non
waste philosophy, so they only cook the necessary portions for the people eating.
If we fail to either sign up or opt out and we show up or don’t go, we affect
someone. The case in point is eggs. Sometimes we have chapatti, curry and
boiled eggs. If you come to dinner without signing up and you eat an egg, you
are taking someone else’s egg, very simple.
At the end of each meal each of us has to clean our own
plate. We discard the food we didn’t eat into a bucket. This organic waste is
taken to a bio-tank full of certain bacteria that decomposes the waste and
turns it into gas. The kitchen uses this gas to cook.
The school is a reflection of the entire state of Kerala, they
are very concerned with the environment. The school does not produce much waste
because they don’t have any disposable utensils. At the end of any meal there
is only a mound of organic waste, despite the fact that 40 to 50 people dine at
the hall at any given time. The school is very clean, with well preserved and
beautiful gardens; students, faculty and employees alike display a sense of
pride to be part of the school, it is contagious, I feel proud to be a student
here.
The first impression of my neighborhood is, just like the
rest of the state, greenery. I live North of Fort Kochi, which is a mid size
city, but I feel in a very remote area because I am surrounded by trees
everywhere. It is beautiful. This state should be called “fifty shades of green”.
The next impression is that everyone is very friendly. I know every single
business owner near the school. There is Ms. Sheena and her store manager
(Chettan or Older brother), she is the owner of the shop responsible for the
mango-paramburi treat. There is Ms.
Jessi, the seamstress responsible for my new Indian wardrobe, and there is Ms.
Gressy, the owner of the convenient store where I get my bindis from. The sense
of community here is very strong, I feel connected to all of them and I feel
safe while walking in this neighborhood.
My first impression of the bathroom was not so good, well,
not at first. I learned that one of the reasons why there is no toilet paper in
any bathroom is because it pollutes the water. You will always find a
pressurized phone shower in most toilets, so you simply wash off your intimate
parts. It takes some practice though… I, of course can’t be discrete about it.
I don’t understand why my hands, that are completely adept to using toilet
paper, seem to have some kind of paralysis when I try to use the phone shower;
it falls, it twists, it slips… at the end of the process my clothes, my face
and even my hair are all wet and everyone knows where I have been.
After our arrival to India we had to go to school to
register with the government. It took a few hours to fill out the electronic
paperwork associated with this process. We also met our academic liaison, a
very handsome professor with a very warm smile.
He walked us through the whole process and gave us the main instructions
about our 5 month stint in India. He answered all our questions no matter how
silly and out of place they were. He was understanding that we were new to the
country, the culture and the school, so in an exceptionally patient manner, he
explained things associated with our academic responsibilities as well as
things associated with our household. We were also introduced to Mr. Ken. He
basically takes care of our every household need. He is always accompanied by a
young handsome man (Troy) that has been the subject of many of our dinner conversations: “He is so
cute” “His eyes are so…” etc. He has sparked the romantic ideas of more than
one in our group. Sadly, I am incredibly clumsy every time I am around him. The
only two times I have tripped over anything has been when he is around. He always
gives me a compassionate smile and then I hate myself for the rest of the day.
Our welcome and first
impression of the people of the school (Faculty and Students) could not
have been better. The first official day at school we had a superb
welcome, the screen at the lobby was displaying our names along with a
picture of a bouquet of flowers. Little things like this make such a
difference, really. We felt really welcome and special with this. Then,
we had an official welcome by the Dean(s), the President of the school
and other senior faculty. They all gave us a brief lecture on a topic
associated with our semester here. During their sessions, several times
the power went off. I was expecting some kind of reaction from them. At
least a little "oh, oh" but nothing, they just continued with their
presentation. The video beams and computers must be connected to an
independent generator because their power point was never interrupted
even when the lights were totally off. This was a sign to me that in
India you just don't sweat the small stuff.
Over all, I have had a very positive first impression of
India and its people. People are always willing to help; they are curious and
not afraid of asking “where are you from”, “how old are you”, “why are you here…
(To be continued)
