There be rogues there.

I've always wanted to be popular with the boys.

Fearing for their jobs (and the subsequent dissolve of U.S. - India diplomatic relations should anything happen to us), the local office has been aggressively attentive to our safety.  Despite assuring people that President Obama has no idea of my presence in India (or general existence), any attempt at independent motion sparks a flurry of search parties and shouts of "No Miss, no! There be rogues there!" 

It is worth noting that in our walks around the town (shhhhhh) few rogues have been sighted.  Instead, as in any country, it's really the groups of school children that are the true threat to safety.  Feigning childhood innocence, they lure you in with smiles and cute school uniforms. This quickly dissolves into several actions that fall under the definition of harassment.  Their favorite is mocking.  Surprisingly, I've never really been a fan of being mocked.

The Things of Late.

There’s something about living next to a 1500 year old temple that really puts your life into perspective. So do student loans.


Moving on, here’s what I’ve been doing lately:

Sweating.
The temperature started off a palatable 80 degrees in the first week, but has now climbed into the soul-destroying range of the high 90’s. I wake up inside a furnace and go to sleep wondering if life is worth living. It’s a dramatic cycle.

Listening to a lot of Tamil.
This is known worldwide as the Most Impossible Language Ever. Taking into the account the unusual length of words, it has even received the distinction of Even More Difficult Than Mongolian.

Interviewing people endlessly.
This always begins the same way: We arrive uninvited onto someone’s property. Someone begins introductions. This takes a while and is entirely in Tamil. This wraps up with everyone looking at each other and saying, “America!” ten or twelve times while I stand there trying to look as though I am, indeed, from America. Whatever that means.

Being a celebrity.
India is more developed than Malawi. This means more cell phones. This means more cell phones with camera capabilities. This does not mean that people are less surprised to see white faces. They just take more pictures.

Traipsing around Agricultural Fields.
Primarily for the purpose of learning about bananas with a close second being watershed projects. My mother can die happy because I now know everything there is to know about drip irrigation systems. I could probably install one. This alarms me.

The neighborhood.

Initial India.

It's happening again. I'm on the move and this time to India.

“Soul Stirring Bamboozling. There’s simply no other word that captures the enigma that is India. With an ability to inspire, frustrate, thrill and confound all at once, India presents an extraordinary spectrum of encounters for the traveller.” – Lonely Planet

Forty-eight hours into my arrival in India saw me vomiting into the Indian toilet of a roadside restaurant. Something was definitely stirring, but fortunately this is one spectrum of encounters I am familiar with. Been there, done that. Mid-hurl I thought to myself, hm, perhaps I should start blogging again.

Which brings me to the reason for this particular foray into a new land. Through my university I have been granted the opportunity of a summer internship with an organization called Srinivasan Services Trust. SST is the social responsibility arm of TVS Motor Company. SST’s work focuses on community capacity building in rural villages in various locations around India using an integrated development model. We (2 interns) have been tasked with assessing their model while “telling the story” of SST’s communities.

Now if someone could just explain what that means exactly then I’ll be on my way.

So far what this means is that we are treated as "esteemed guests" by SST and have our every need provided for. Our first two days were spent in Chennai recovering from the flights. We were put up in a 5 star hotel and provided a car and driver. Now I consider my parents to be well-rounded caretakers with effective parenting strategies, however, it has become apparent that in one area they have failed spectacularly. They failed to teach me how to behave in situations of luxury. Unsuspecting hotel staff members' attempts at doing their job resulted in me running around also trying to do their job while thanking them repeatedly.

This may come as a surprise considering that we’re the type of family that piles all the food on our porch when the refrigerator breaks down.

We have just arrived in the village Thirunkkurungudi (or TKI for the less linguistically nimble of us) in the south of India and are getting acquainted with everyone and everything. Hopefully this means that I will soon have a better idea of what I'm supposed to be doing.

Actually as I'm re-reading this post I'm finding it quite boring so apologies for that. Although, as a good friend once said, if I wrote a memoir it would be called Setting the Bar Low: The Hannah Hutton Story.

Now that I have a real internet connection.

A Typical Expressive Arts Lesson.

I will say that, with all their academic issues, these kids have no qualms about performing.

Nsima Sayings.

I am guessing that interest in my updates may have diminished because it has come to my attention that (against all odds) I have neglected to mention much of anything about the cuisine here in Malawi.

Allow me to remedy that situation in a shameless plug to boost approval ratings.

Though considerably less extreme (on the nauseating scale) than Mongolia, Malawi definitely has something special to offer the palate. We rely on what I like to call the Big Five: cabbage, okra, tomatoes (I'm cursed), pumpkin leaves (I'm still waiting for the actual pumpkins to make an appearance), and onion. We eat these on a revolving basis - depending on availability - with rice, always rice. Rice is, it should be noted, our bourgeoisie replacement for the local staple food nsima (pronounced with a swallowed 'n' + 'sima'). Basically like congealed cream-of-wheat served in palm-size "pats" and made from maize flour. Odorless, tasteless, colorless, and can't be traced.

A Malawian riddle (conveniently included in the English curriculum):
Q: What is a mountain that you climb with your hands?
A: Nsima.

A popular Malawian saying:
"That exam was simple, like eating nsima!"

It is suspected here that the world revolves, not around the sun, but around a giant pat of molten nsima. That the heart is not an organ, but a pulsating pat of nsima pumping our life blood. In fact, its possible that our veins don't hold blood, but an ever running river of nsima.

A Bicycle (Taxi) Built for Two (or Three).

The bicycle taxi (see above). The most common form of transport in Malawi, second only to foot traffic. A harrowing and often traumatic experience depending on a variety of factors including, but not limited to: the fitness level of your bicycle taxi driver, the quality of the road, and if the bicycle taxi is "bwana" (meaning high class) and has breaks, peddles, handlebars, etc or not. An unstable journey anyway, this one was made even more life-threatening by the limited availability of taxis. Fortunately this driver reasoned that if he could carry a fat woman with a bag of charcoal he could more than handle the two of us.

***

Another term break spent hitchhiking. Southern Malawi to Dar es Salaam in 4 days by any means available is pretty impressive if I do say so myself. All went well until, in desperation and fear of having to spend the night in a maize field, we had to take a ride from a car of Indian men from Zambia with guns and then subsequently stuff ourselves into the trunk of a car. Oh the things you never thought you'd do voluntarily!

With the considerable time spent in various vehicles (and inspired by the bicycle taxi experience depicted in the picture), I was able to compose the following song (sung to the tune of A Bicycle Built for Two):

Azungu Azungu (meaning "white people")
What are you doing here?
I'm half crazy all for the chance to leer.

I don't know what I want from you -
maybe 50 kwacha (Malawian currency) will do

but at the very least
you're sure a strange beast-
a woman wearing short trousers!