Seeing as I am in the blogging mood I thought I would just comment on a few things that I have found interesting about India. The first is...spitting. Apparently a lot of people in India chew tobacco or just feel the need to spit every 3 minutes, either way, barely an hour goes by where you don't hear someone hawking a loogie. It is especially prevalent with the rickshaw drivers who are driving back and forth all day and all they need to do is lean their head out a little (there aren't any windows in an auto rickshaw) and spit. However, their desired affect isn't quite that good on people such as my roommate Rachel, who turns green everytime she hears the sound.
The second thing I would like to comment on is the English that is spoken and written in India. Somewhat surprising to me was when my feet touched Indian soil, I realized how many Indians actually can't speak English (this is even more prevalent in rural towns). I have found this to be of interest because many of the cars in India are hand-painted with different slogans. However, some people do not get the correct spelling of certain words or their English isn't quite up to par (in other words they have been writing the wrong terms on their vehicles). My favorite such mishap was in Delhi when an ambulance drove by and painted on its side was, "Save Lives. Prevent Safety". Unfortunately I was not able to whip out my camera fast enough in order to take a picture but I couldn't help but chuckle at the paradox.
Since this post seems to be filled with randomness, I thought I should just update everyone a little further on what I have been up to this week. Saraswati Puja took place a couple days ago and it honors the goddess Saraswati (the goddess of wisdom and learning, for those of you who don't know your Hindu gods/goddesses). Rachel and I got dressed up in sarees and attended the puja at the house of our host parent's family member. It was interesting to see the Brahmin priest chant and everyone give thanks by throwing marigold flowers at a statue of Saraswati. My interest in Hinduism has gone back a long time (even before I wrote my 14 page paper for Mr. Senrick's class in 9th grade) so I was extremely happy that I got to participate in the puja (oil was splashed on me, the Brahmin priest put a bindi on my forehead, and I received a blessing by putting my hands over candle flames and wafting the smoke over my head). I thoroughly enjoyed the puja, however, I did not especially like the lunch afterwards in which I had to sit with 6 eighteen-year olds who all kept staring and talking about me in Bengali. Uncle had informed me at breakfast that Saraswati Puja was kind of like the Valentine's Day of India so people would definitely be staring at us even more, especially because we were wearing sarees. To this I replied that he would then be my bodyguard for the day and carry a stick in which to beat the boys's ankles, so you can imagine my dismay when Uncle leaves me at a table with 6 giggling boys who even at one point ask each other in Bengali if they should ask for my number. Needless to say after dinner I booked it out of there as fast as I could.
The second thing I would like to comment on is the English that is spoken and written in India. Somewhat surprising to me was when my feet touched Indian soil, I realized how many Indians actually can't speak English (this is even more prevalent in rural towns). I have found this to be of interest because many of the cars in India are hand-painted with different slogans. However, some people do not get the correct spelling of certain words or their English isn't quite up to par (in other words they have been writing the wrong terms on their vehicles). My favorite such mishap was in Delhi when an ambulance drove by and painted on its side was, "Save Lives. Prevent Safety". Unfortunately I was not able to whip out my camera fast enough in order to take a picture but I couldn't help but chuckle at the paradox.
Since this post seems to be filled with randomness, I thought I should just update everyone a little further on what I have been up to this week. Saraswati Puja took place a couple days ago and it honors the goddess Saraswati (the goddess of wisdom and learning, for those of you who don't know your Hindu gods/goddesses). Rachel and I got dressed up in sarees and attended the puja at the house of our host parent's family member. It was interesting to see the Brahmin priest chant and everyone give thanks by throwing marigold flowers at a statue of Saraswati. My interest in Hinduism has gone back a long time (even before I wrote my 14 page paper for Mr. Senrick's class in 9th grade) so I was extremely happy that I got to participate in the puja (oil was splashed on me, the Brahmin priest put a bindi on my forehead, and I received a blessing by putting my hands over candle flames and wafting the smoke over my head). I thoroughly enjoyed the puja, however, I did not especially like the lunch afterwards in which I had to sit with 6 eighteen-year olds who all kept staring and talking about me in Bengali. Uncle had informed me at breakfast that Saraswati Puja was kind of like the Valentine's Day of India so people would definitely be staring at us even more, especially because we were wearing sarees. To this I replied that he would then be my bodyguard for the day and carry a stick in which to beat the boys's ankles, so you can imagine my dismay when Uncle leaves me at a table with 6 giggling boys who even at one point ask each other in Bengali if they should ask for my number. Needless to say after dinner I booked it out of there as fast as I could.
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