Questions: Hindi, Two Wheeler, Waterfall Rappelling, Surprise Birthday

Throughout these past seven days, I have been playing chess with the curves and lines of devanagari -the script in which the local language and Hindi are written. To my surprise and chagrin, I have discovered that the scribbles and sounds have a life of their own. This becomes clear as they flow from my mind to my mouth, out my lips and across the room to finally reach ears of our teacher. The foreign source from which they depart and the journey make the words antsy. As they leave, I can already see rooks of doubt and queens of form challenging them. The pressure to perform becomes too great and they become weak, their courses increasingly unchartered. By the time they land my original meaning has been lost. Instead of inquiring about the market's address I end up with some variation of, 'Is this the market's pen?' Judgement strikes. Checkmate.

Yet on the off-chance that I am able to harness a couple of the shapes, I have learned to ask questions including 'What is this blue lotus?' and 'Is this water?' Being able to inquire as to whether the water is clean or where is the water from, perhaps more pressing questions in a country which strongly encourages pre-visit typhoid shot, remains a distant dream. 

When I am not straining to discipline Hindi script, I have been asking questions of a different sort. Results below:

 In response to, "Can I ride with you on your two-wheeler?" 

This gem-of-an-experience occurred when Swapna took us to see the drum groups. Not all nine of us could stack - yes stack not sit - into her compact car, so I volunteered/demanded/asked to ride with one the girls on Pune’s preferred mode of transport - the two wheeler. After having read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance over the summer I was anxious to experience the rapid and liberating movement Pirsig described on every fourth page. It was immensely rewarding and, fingers crossed, will not be my last.

“How safe it it to rappel down this waterfall?”

Last Sunday, a number of us hiked around the unspoiled, emerald city of Dudhivare, Pune to reach a cascading 150 meter stream of water we had signed up to rappel down. Exhausted from waking up at 5:00 am to catch a 6:00 am bus (i.e. 9:00 am India Standard Time - IST), we chatted and explored as each of us waited our turn. Our lungs readily welcomed the pure mountain air, lightly perfumed by blossoms of gardenia. A white temple stood near the center of a panoramic view of a stunning cobalt lake framed by vivid green forests. The sun peeked out around midday, strengthening shadows and boosting the sparkle of the landscape.

At 3:00 pm, I was finally peering down the edge of the waterfall as one of the guides tried to put my mind at ease by explaining in fractured English that all the equipment met international standards. “Just feet keep apart, lean back,” he instructed. I continued to say those words as I set one foot behind the other, balancing all my weight into the harness. About halfway, I looked back and caught a glance of the group, small figures against the gorgeous background. Too soon, a rush of cold water glided over the view and I raced to the bottom. As my feet touched the horizontal rock I could feel the adrenaline begin to ease.

“What are we doing for your birthday?”

HGM celebrated her 21st yesterday. I managed to distract her as Amy, her roommate, and Abouli, her host sister, decorated the house for a surprise dinner of HGM’s favorite - Idli and Saanbar. One our way back to their house, HGM asked if I was coming over for dinner the next day. I assured her I was, turning my face away should she would not spot my smile. At midnight we had cake and the next day we went to Pheonix Mall to eat at McDonald’s as per HGM’s request. Although it is quite far away, the journey was well worth the 170 rupees. For the next couple of hours we explored a slew of Indian and western stores inside the sophisticated complex. HGM enthusiastically noted it was her best 21st birthday ever.