The Varanasi Daily

People have been asking for pictures lately, so I decided that I would make a post based purely on pictures. There will be very little order to this post, but it should be fun...

To the right of this writing, you will see Shri Vijay Khanna, my Indian host father. This picture was taken on the day that I went with all of the other girls from our program to see his Sari distribution business' inventory. We are all going to a wedding at the end of November, so we decided that we should do the wedding thing right and dress in ridiculously fancy beautiful silk saris. Our (ha) family business is called Atmaram Harishankar, named after my host fathers great grandfather and his grandfather, who started the Benarasi sari distribution business 135 years ago when my family moved to Benaras from the Punjab region. Benarasi weaving is famous all around India. Most of my host family's customers are stores in Bengal. My host grandfather still manages the business.

The next picture is of a gecko, or chipcali as they are called here. Geckos live everywhere, in every house, behind every piece of furniture, and underneath every painting. There are two that live behind a painting of the Goddess Durga on my wall. They have the ability to lose their tails, if it will help them escape predators, so I often see little ones with half tails. Sometimes they surprise me when I go into the bathroom to shower in the morning, and they scatter all over the walls. They may be some of the cutest house pests I can imagine. Unfortunately, the poop all over everything also, but I will always be thankful for them because they are the reason that one of the students was inspired to ask how to say poop in Hindi. Goo. Yes. Goo is the word for poop in India. Every time we leave for a trip, we come back to our things covered in little dried pellets of chipcali goo.

Here is the illustrious Shri Virendra Singh. Our main Hindi grammar guru, (Vimalji is our spoken Hindi teacher, also a legend in his own time, but I don't have a picture of him yet...) He has taught Hindi for our program for over 30 years, and his love for Hindi instruction is shared by all of his children, several of whom teach Hindi at Universities in the US. He is a legend in his own time, and it seems that every person I meet in this city and outside of it knows who he is. They all say "Virendraji bahut accha admi han, bahut accha admi," Virendraji is a very good man, a very good many. It's true.
Virendraji thoroughly enjoys filling every moment of our lives with Hindi instruction and tough love. He makes at least one pun or food-related joke every day at lunch. He has promised several of the students that he will find us suitable matches so that we can marry before leaving India, and maybe never leave after all. Having spent so many hours with him, he has become like family to us.

Introducing Panditji. Panditji's job description in our program handbook is "an indespensible part of the program." That's it. Nothing else need be said. Panditji runs all sorts of errands, takes students to visit people, buys vegetables, organizes things, and greets people. He sits and drinks tea and reads newspapers, and forces us to practice Hindi. His most beloved responsibility is the keeper of the bikes. When we all arrived, Panditji distributed program bicycles to each and every student. Apparently last year not all of the students used bikes, but this year, each and every one of us used one. I was the last student to get a bike, since I had been sick when everyone else got theirs, so after giving me my bike Panditji proudly told me that every one of the students now had a bicycle. As we walked to get my tires filled up on the corner, Panditji sang the praises of bicycles, exclaiming that he had been riding one for at least 20 years, and that it was by far his favorite mode of transportation. I agreed wholeheartedly, and came to the conclusion that Panditji and I would get along well.

To any Indian, it would seem strange and maybe slightly inappropriate that I am including this picture in my writings, but I am very sure that my bathroom will supply much wonder and entertainment to many of you back home. Just know that I mean no disrespect to any of the people mentioned in photos adjacent to this one. This is a squat toilet, and a rather westernized one with a big flush tank instead of just a bucket of water. The bathroom is arranged in a way that when I shower (with a bucket and a cup) all of the water drains into the toilet. At the end of my shower I squeegee the floor and all the water off the floor, and I feel like there could be no better way of keeping a bathroom clean. Some will notice with great interest and maybe some other thoughts that there is no toilet paper, only a cup of water. If you want to know more details about this, ask me in person, and I will be happy to describe to you in great detail how things are done.

This is one of the rooms that I rent from my host family. I live in what would be servants quarters if I didn't live there, so I pretty much have my own house: two rooms, three beds, a refrigerator, a bathroom, and a kitchen (which I don't use, because I always just hang out in my host-mom's kitchen). One of my rooms has a corrugated metal roof, and since that is the one that has a fan that runs even when the power is out, that is where I usually sleep. I loved the sound of the rain during the rainy season, and now I am often entertained by waking up to monkeys scuffling loudly above me. Generally, though, I spend time that I am home with my host family, especially my host grandmother who I love chatting with. I gauge my Hindi progress by how good a conversation I can have with her, and I am happy to say our conversations are getting much more meaningful. The other day we discussed the family tree of Lord Ram.

Meet Sharda Didi and Champa Didi, our program house cooks. They have both been working for our program for many, many years, and they are wonderful cooks. Every morning when we arrive at the program house they have already put breakfast on the table (porridge, toast, jam, NUTELLA, fruit, juice, etc.) Then as we wait for class to begin, they bring us chai. They also bring us chai during class, and as we study Hindi they prepare lunch. It is slightly torturous towards the end of class, as the kushbu, delicious smells waft up the stairs to our classrooms and we wait for the bell to call us down to the table. They also love to make us western (Indian style) food. Sometimes we have "pancakes" which are more like crepes for breakfast, and often they make pasta with amazing sauce from scratch and wierd canned cheese for lunch. Delicious. Pasta day is so exciting. Our usual fare, though, includes roti, dal, vegetables (potato-cauliflower, or okra, or something like that) and yogurt. I have never found reason to complain about the food here at the program house, thanks to these two lovely women.


Meet Sanghamitra, our program's resident coordinator, who taught us how to survive in India during our first weeks here. She has spent hours and hours teaching us how and where to shop, organizing our cell phones, explaining how to deal with Indian bueaurocracy, and helping organize research assistants and tutorials. She is one of the reasons that I love India. Without the people at our program, I'm pretty sure I would be angry almost all the time. With their help and friendship and conversation, I am very very happy here. Thanks University of Wisconsin Year in India! It seems that 40-some years of operation has helped a lot to make connections and identify glitches. Shabash!