I was working studiously at my computer, and I thought I saw Xander stick his little head up like he does sometimes when I'm working. But it was just a napkin, flapping in the AC's breeze. I miss my kitties.

dehradun

Last Sunday we went to the National Museum. Same old-cultures, eras, broken pottery and frayed textiles of these cultures and eras. It was moderately interesting, but we mostly went to get out of the heat. We went into the theater and dumbly watched a baffling film about a golden statue of Buddha (I think) before Jenny said to me "What are we watching?" which surpassed my favorite thing she said-the first morning, sleepily before we'd said anything else "So...the beds are hard." I may not have mentioned this, but none of the mattresses are at all springy. You land on them with an unexpected thud. Monday I reuined a haggling session of Jenny's for a couple of salwar-kameezes by naively piping up "Gee, that sounds like a pretty good deal." She was nice about it, but she was pretty annoyed, too. We had been in the Palika Bazaar, an underground market which reminded me of a casino, in the overwhelming sensory input and the darkened environment meant to blind you to the outside world. I am refraining from buying much (except my shirt and pashmina, both overpriced) till I can get a better handle on the baseline prices. As I said, I don't mind there being mostly seller surplus (in the economic sense), but I think prices will be cheaper here in Dehradun. At the National Museum, we met a few guards. One gave us mango while we lunched in the Canteen, and later, in his gallery of musical instruments, a cookie and some nuts warm from his pocket. He managed to slyly ask both me and Jenny if we were "available" He was old! But pretty sweet all things considered. In another gallery, I attempted to mimic a Buddha statue's mudra, a complicated hand position much more intricate than the usual YogaYoga forefinger-to-thumb mudra. Jenny and Mari tried to mimic me, and we turned to find a guard also mimicking us and laughing. He attempted to ascertain Jenny's status by asking if she was our mother. This managed to shock all of us and offend her somewhat. Another thing I may forget to write about if I don't write it now is how overstaffed everywhere is. I guess when you have a population of nearly a billion, you enter the realm of diminishing returns, especially when the economy can't support nearly that many. It gets confusing trying to remember who took your order, whom you should pay, how you get the food.

On the bus to Dehradun

[very difficult to read handwriting]After an emergency bathroom break, when 5 of our number trooped out to behind a thatched hut into the woods behind, and shortly after a woman in a bright pink sari emerged smiling a big smile, the first boy returned and said gruffly "There's monkeys." Indeed! We are traveling through a national park. More observations-I am, as Sara warned, about a foot taller than anyone here. I often have to duck through doorways and on second floors.

nobody cares, zorak

no one.

This encapsulates my feeling at the moment. tomorrow i'll be all better.

Lodhi Gardens and National Museum

We went to Lodhi Gardens, which were beautiful. I took so many pictures, and the air finally smelled like air, not like care fumes. We actually got a decent price no an auto-rickshaw, but the driver had a rather sour look on his face as we left. I hate not knowing the baseline. I don't mind paying a little extra above what would be normal, but paying three times as much would make me a bit angry. Anyway, we next went to the National Museum, where I missed out on a 1 rupee admission by not having my ISIC card with me. It as the same old-cultures, eras, broken pottery or those cultures and eras. We met a guard who gave us some mango, then some cookies, then some nuts, warm from his pocket (eeyuck!). But he was sweet. Poor Jenny twice got pegged as older than us-one guard tasked if she was our teacher, and another if she was our mother. She's three years younger than me and looks it. It was really weird. Another haggle-ridden rickshaw ride home, by an elderly Sikh man who'd been a driver since 1961 ("the taxi change, I the same!") tried to make a commission off of us. I ended up getting a pashmina for 200 rupees, much to Jenny's chagrin (she'd wanted to talk them down even lower). But it's green and lovely.

morning

Last night we didn't end up going to the girls' hotel because they never answered when we called (they were down in the bar it turned out). So we went back to the Banana Leaf Café, where we'd gone with Raj and Mir. It was full of Indian families, children glancing shyly at us. Jenny brazenly asked people on either side of us what they were eating, and both answered friendlily. One even gave her some of what he was eating! I told her about hat unofficial couple's experiment I heard on NPR. It's morning now, and we're waiting for Marissa to come by the hotel. Marissa just came and she looks like a faerie child, or a lot like SleepyBird. They just ran back to the room for something. Marissa didn't want to go to Agra with the other group, opting to go with the full group at the end of June. I tried to set up my water pump but hit a few snags-chlorine expired, for one thing. But hopefully we'll get it working. We drink so much water in a day! But speaking of annoying on the personal level, we ran into Raj at Café Coffee Day this morning, and apparently Mir was angry we couldn't go out last night-he had it al planned because it was some kind of couples-only concert, so they weren't able to go. Oops. But I really did feel pretty sick in our defense.

in which we meet raj and mir

One never knows where I day will take her! We were getting coffee when somehow we started talking to two dudes, Raj and Mir (numbers on opposite page of this journal). They dot their Is with a star and a bubble, respectively, so they can't be fearsome predators. They took us to another coffee/chai place, Raj's store for carpets and silks (we thought this was their game at first-salesmanship), a shop where I got a nice embroidered red shirt, and eventually, Raj's apartment so Jenny could see if she'd be renting it for part of the summer. We've been in so many tourist bureaus today! I got the old "You look Indian" (or, you know, insert country I'm in), which I find flattering. Maybe people will rip me off less when I'm on my own, or it could be that I don't actually look Indian at all. Mir assures me I will have a deep tan in no time at all. But in the meantime, I'm whiter than this sheet of paper. Hmm, no, but disturbingly I am exactly the same shade as this paper, and that is true. Instead of going to a concert with Raj and Mir, I was feeling sick (That was the cover story, too), and we were going to go hang out with the girls in the other hotel. But we can't get in touch with them now, so I'm not sure what's going to happen, despite this afternoon's great nap. I would be happy just staying in and reading all the stuff I'm supposed to. I got some contacts this morning from Daman at ERM. I think they will be good contacts for the water research but we'll see. I really need a better grasp on what I'll be doing. And I really need to finish the IRB submission.

first morning

I arrived last night and couldn't keep my eyes open. I had slept plenty on the plane so suspect it was the combo of cold medicine and the 10 hour time difference at work. My seatmate was a PhD student, studying nanotoxicity in quantum dots. It made me feel foolish when I had found this out, as I had spent most of the flight thinking she was 12. I spent the rest of the flight reliving all our interactions to figure out if I'd revealed this to her. I think I expressed that I was impressed she was traveling without her family. Surely it's not the first time she's gotten that, though. Prepaid taxi drive was...interesting. Terrifying would be another word, but not so bad that I didn't fall asleep sitting up. There was a long time when I wasn't sure we'd find the place (Asian Guest House), and I envisioned what it would be like stranded without a place to sleep. I would have cried if I hadn't been so numb from exhaustion. One funny thing about the way people drive here is that they honk the horns constantly. For the most part, it's done without ill-will, more like "Hey, here I am, and I'm not stopping for you, buddy!" Makes for a noisy city. But maybe the horns are better utilized than to express annoyance and anger, like the in States. They allay annoyance and anger this way! Woke this morning with a headache and no voice. Took medicine for both, then promptly, with minimal warning, threw up. So, that sucked, but I felt better.Now Jenny and I, up 2 hours earlier than we intended, are talking about the men I saw waking up on the neighboring roof. And about what to do with our day.

this time tomorrow...

I'm leaving in a couple of hours. Then the next post will probably be from India. And probably at my travel website. The usual things apply for when I travel--I love you all, blah blah blah, I'll miss you, blah blah, I feel ill right now. Blah.

i am totally not a leaf on the wind.