Cleanliness is next to godliness

Still no internet at the dorm..."Any minute now" has turned to "any day now" and that has turned to "maybe we'll get internet some day..."

I’ve been wanting to take some time to discuss the Indian Rupee, truly the finest currency in the world. I’ve mentioned money and prices a few times before, but not in great detail. Every time I buy something in India I have a small celebration in my head. It’s the same smug rush of excitement that comes along with discovering a typo in a well-respected publication or with finishing a crossword puzzle. After living like a pauper in Ireland last summer, living like a queen in India feels like I’ve really accomplished something. The exchange rate is about 50 Rupees to a dollar, or if you prefer, 2 cents to 1 Rupee. And even when things cost a small fraction of the price you would pay in the USA or Europe, you can still haggle to pay less. 400 Rupees for that hand-embroidered artisan shirt?! Preposterous! I’ll have it for no more than 250! I realized after one such shopping experience that coming to India may very well be the first financially responsible decision I have ever made.

I have, in fact, started classes and I would tell you what they are, but my schedule is still not finalized and I also don’t feel like it. In any case, yesterday was a Muslim holiday and no classes are being held. At first, my peers and I saw this as an opportunity to explore the city and have a day of fun, but soon we found out that it’s best not to try to go anywhere since the streets would be filled with penitent Muslim men inflicting pain upon themselves.

I took the opportunity, instead to sleep in and do mundane things like laundry. I should have guessed that even the mundane becomes an adventure in India. The laundry machines themselves were a puzzle and a mystery, but proved no match for my wit and dexterity. I got them started with no problem but was outsmarted soon enough. Expecting the cycle to take half an hour or so, I waited and waited with no results. As minutes turned into hours my patience wore thin. Finally there looked to be just a few minutes left in the cycle when suddenly, the power went out. I dashed to the machines and thought perhaps I could just pull the wet clothes out since they were almost done being washed, but I opened the door and a wave of soapy water poured out. A bad idea, evidently.

Time went on and boredom worsened so I thought I might pass the time by bathing (a practice that I have been shamefully neglecting for days on end). The first obstacle to this task was the dozen or so construction workers standing around in the bathroom yelling in Telugu. The second obstacle was the fact that my towel was a wet captive of the dormant washing machine.

I returned to reading and wasting time in my room with Brenda when in wandered two Indian children. Brenda and I sat on our beds and the pre-teen boy and girl stood smiling at us in our doorway. The girl knew a few words of English such as “Hi” and “What is your name” and “pretty!” but she quickly exhausted all of these phrases and was left with nothing to say. Brenda and I laughed nervously and the four of us shared a silent, awkward few minutes before the girl said “Bye!” and the two disappeared.

Yesterday night I went with some other girls to a very fancy Chinese restaurant because everyone except for me seems to be really tired of Indian food. I'm a little surprised that I haven't gotten more tired of it, but instead I get really excited for every meal..."Indian food again?! Perfect!!" Maybe I'll eventually figure out what the foods are called or how to make it...