Just taking a break from the website. It is being constructed at a relatively slow and steady pace as getting a hold of Happy (my employer) has been difficult. But, as soon as we get the domain name and ftp instructions, it will be viewable at thedeafway.org.
Things are quite slow right now in general, as compared to the wild times of the first two months here. I spend most of my days at home — except when I am rescued by either Tom or Mutya to go do something. I also have been told by Happy that going to Deaf Way twice a week is interfering with the website's development, so I go in oon my other n Saturdays only.
Will probably be going to Ladac in July, as well as the volunteer conference in Kolkatta. I did some work on the conference report of which I am very proud. I've posted it on my other blog: bent horizon.
Monday, May 07, 2007
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Still.. Alive
There will be no images in this overdue blog. Nothing alienates viewers from a website more than lack of updates — so I'm hoping to will you all back...
In summation, since my last blog update, I stayed in Palolem, came back to Delhi and stayed in the guest house, met a bunch of new volunteers, went to Agra and Jaipur with them (that's where the Taj Mahal is, went to Manali and Solang (in the Himalayas) and have been working on the website and Conference Report since. Actually, the report is finished and it's just the website now.
Been teaching three deaf and one hearing person a small host of web-based programs they will need to maintain the site after I'm gone. That's been going fine, but challenging nonetheless. Been going to the gym to improve my physique (which has gotten worse only if you consider a decrease in muscle and increase in fat detrimental), and to help with my ever-increasing back pain. It's not that bad really and the gym has improved it. I blame the pain on the fact that counters (kitchen) are shorter here — just like the people. I surely had nothing to do with the fact that I slouch all day, sometimes in front of a computer, have crooked legs, flat feet and am getting older. The counters.
We (we being Mutya and I) are meeting the new volunteer from Germany in the next couple of days. I promise to fill you in on other details including the Conference Report (which looks awesome). Time passes much slower here, after all.
In summation, since my last blog update, I stayed in Palolem, came back to Delhi and stayed in the guest house, met a bunch of new volunteers, went to Agra and Jaipur with them (that's where the Taj Mahal is, went to Manali and Solang (in the Himalayas) and have been working on the website and Conference Report since. Actually, the report is finished and it's just the website now.
Been teaching three deaf and one hearing person a small host of web-based programs they will need to maintain the site after I'm gone. That's been going fine, but challenging nonetheless. Been going to the gym to improve my physique (which has gotten worse only if you consider a decrease in muscle and increase in fat detrimental), and to help with my ever-increasing back pain. It's not that bad really and the gym has improved it. I blame the pain on the fact that counters (kitchen) are shorter here — just like the people. I surely had nothing to do with the fact that I slouch all day, sometimes in front of a computer, have crooked legs, flat feet and am getting older. The counters.
We (we being Mutya and I) are meeting the new volunteer from Germany in the next couple of days. I promise to fill you in on other details including the Conference Report (which looks awesome). Time passes much slower here, after all.
Monday, April 02, 2007
Will Post Soon!
Sorry for the delay in posting, I have been busy — I promise. The next post will be of the tropical paradise that is Palolem followed by some briefer posts of places I visited and what's been going on the last last three weeks or so.
In the meantime, I leave you with this image of a mountain puppy that I met in Manali (at least three posts away).
PS: Leave comments. I don't even care if they're flames at this point.
In the meantime, I leave you with this image of a mountain puppy that I met in Manali (at least three posts away).PS: Leave comments. I don't even care if they're flames at this point.
Monday, March 12, 2007
February 27th to March 7th; Part 2 ~ Hellish Goa
The Title is Misleading
You might recognise this person in the picture. That is Deb. She is splashing about in the waves in a place I would anything but hellish. I feel is image typifies and sums up well the environment that was Goa. The conference itself was not exactly thrilling, but we made up for that in the evenings. Suffice to say that I am deeply spoiled now in terms of what I expect from my volunteer experience.
I like this image. It's the sign of the Bollywood Hotel — the place stayed for a glorious week. Being in a more rural setting, I got to appreciate more what people meant when they said "Delhi is not India". There's some real poverty here — which stood in stark contrast to the lavishness of the hotel. I felt bad for a while, but was having too much fun to dwell on it.
Here is the entire (I think) group that was at Goa. From left to right, in descending rows. [Ahem] Caroline (from the UK), Ken (from the UK) Jane (from Ireland), Lisette (from the Netherlands), Rakhi (VSO Program Officer), Praveen (VSO office), Neil (from the UK), a waiter (from Goa), Carlos (from the Phillipines), Rimmy (who works for the VSO office in Delhi), Me, Peg (green shirt on left-hand-side), Tom (from the UK, black shirt right side), Joyce (from the Phillipines, far right side), Mutya and Juliet (from Uganda, where Tulan went), "Madmat" (VSO office), and Deb (again).
A Picture is Worth... blah blah blah
I could go into detail about my time at the Sundeep Hotel, but I think I'll just post a bunch of pictures instead. It was fun.
I'll post some more on the next post. I never thought I'd get sick of looking at pictures at gorgeous sunsets (I am in charge of processing all of the Goa images and sunsets figure prominently in many of them). The next post will be of Old Goa (the city had a name, but I can't remember right now).
You might recognise this person in the picture. That is Deb. She is splashing about in the waves in a place I would anything but hellish. I feel is image typifies and sums up well the environment that was Goa. The conference itself was not exactly thrilling, but we made up for that in the evenings. Suffice to say that I am deeply spoiled now in terms of what I expect from my volunteer experience.
I like this image. It's the sign of the Bollywood Hotel — the place stayed for a glorious week. Being in a more rural setting, I got to appreciate more what people meant when they said "Delhi is not India". There's some real poverty here — which stood in stark contrast to the lavishness of the hotel. I felt bad for a while, but was having too much fun to dwell on it.
Here is the entire (I think) group that was at Goa. From left to right, in descending rows. [Ahem] Caroline (from the UK), Ken (from the UK) Jane (from Ireland), Lisette (from the Netherlands), Rakhi (VSO Program Officer), Praveen (VSO office), Neil (from the UK), a waiter (from Goa), Carlos (from the Phillipines), Rimmy (who works for the VSO office in Delhi), Me, Peg (green shirt on left-hand-side), Tom (from the UK, black shirt right side), Joyce (from the Phillipines, far right side), Mutya and Juliet (from Uganda, where Tulan went), "Madmat" (VSO office), and Deb (again).A Picture is Worth... blah blah blah
I could go into detail about my time at the Sundeep Hotel, but I think I'll just post a bunch of pictures instead. It was fun.
I'll post some more on the next post. I never thought I'd get sick of looking at pictures at gorgeous sunsets (I am in charge of processing all of the Goa images and sunsets figure prominently in many of them). The next post will be of Old Goa (the city had a name, but I can't remember right now).
Thursday, March 08, 2007
February 27th to March 7th; Part 1 ~ The Sleeper Train
This has been an absolutely insane week-and-a-half. I'm going to try and get, in as much detail, what has happened on the train, at the conference, after the conference, and even the less-interesting things that have happened since I got back to Delhi. Alright, here goes:
How I Got My Mobile Phone
I have my new mobile phone (which I didn't want to buy, but couldn't get my way), which I got at the last minute from a nice guy named Anurag, who works at the E-Market mobile store. This is the best kind of mobile store, where flexibility is more important than corporate integrity. For those Torontonians, think of an Indian Pacific Mall. Anyways, I wanted my Blackberry unlocked (which BTW, I will never be without again), but this was the night before and there was just no time. Suffice to say, that was a pretty chaotic evening which involved me running around Vasant Vihar like a crazed foreigner, jumping over VSO compound walls, panting and asking people who don't speak English questions in English - to which, not surprisingly, they responded to in Hindi. A fun evening, for sure. Point is; I got the cell phone.
Waiting at the Station
So we're (we being Mutya, Peggy, Debbie and Myself) at the train station and I, not knowing where I would be staying once I got back from Goa, have brought ALL of my belongings - which weighed approximately 1100 pounds. Oh, and this this was a sleeper train we'd be getting on to, for 30 hours. Already I was winded from carrying all that shit. And the train was two hours late. I did have the pleasure of watching a 5-foot-nothin'-tall man, who weighed a-hundred-and-nothin' pounds lift and carry my suitcase on his head. Much later, on the return flight, I would discover that the suitcase weighed close to 30 kilograms - so that was impressive. Also memorable around this time, was watching 95-pound Mutya (that's right, not even a hundred-and-nothin') be almost swept away by a mob of Delhians trying to get on to the general admission car. Fortunately my luggage was partially in their way - which provided an effective wall.
30 Hours of Sheer... Train Ride
Due to some prompting from Mutya, Tom and Peg at was decided previously that I should fly back to Delhi. This way, I would arrive in time for my placement (to begin on the 4th of March - or so I thought) and not have to do the 30-hour ride again. Suresh (who works at the VSO office) provided the train ticket at the best possible price, which, though Rs. 500 higher than what was online, was still a steal relative to Canadian prices.
After hauling the luggage on and cramming it under that seat, we all slept awhile. Upon awaking, I got to know the girls better as we sat and chatted in the partially-vacant section near the front of the car - much to the chagrin of an elderly Indian couple, who were too polite to tell the loud and abrasive Westerners to shut the fuck up and let them sleep.
Anyways, this is a lot of text, so here's some more pictures:
The Players
This is Deb. She is from York, England. Her voice reminds of Ringo Star's (though I'm sure she would slap me if she read that). Deb is very outgoing and personable. She definitely made the trip go by a lot faster. That and her laptop full of obnoxious Western music that we all enjoyed heartily. Some of the Indian passengers seemed genuinely annoyed, but I got the feeling this was a way for the girls to assert themselves as Westerners. They've all been abroad for some time, and the assertion may have been cathartic. So whoopee. I feel this photograph sums Deb up well. She enjoys the little things and has a great outlook on life. Also, an adventurers' spirit.
This is Mutya. Fortunately for her, I'm talking about the figure on the left. Mutya is a Delhi-based volunteer with whom I will eventually be sharing a flat with. For somebody who has never set foot outside of Asia, her English is near perfect. Much, much better than that of some Canadians I know. I had an photo of her 'scratching' her nose, but she insisted that I delete it. For sure, Mutya is full of surprises.
For those interested, the figure on the right is the waiter/caterer for the car. He's close to six foot tall and sleeps in the 'drawer' visible just above Mutya's head. I now realise that this is reflective of a low-caste lifestyle here in India. He provided surprisingly little food for a waiter (by which I mean none). But he was extremely polite to us throughout the trip - though he did open the drawer and scare the crap out of me at least once.
This is Peggy. In case you're wondering, Peggy got to ride the train in the First Class car - complete with live bands, marble flooring and banisters.
Peggy - or Peg, as some the volunteers oddly call her - has been volunteering/travelling for some time now. She may very well be the most well-travelled person I have met here to date, having explored much of Asia in addition to her home Scotland. Though pretty even-keeled most of the time, Peg can, when necessary, leap into action. Stationed at one of the stopover stations somewhere along the way, I was saved from being stranded by Peg when the train started moving. Good thing she yelled or I would have never been able to muster up the .025km/hour speed necessary to clamber on - and would never have had the pleasure of having an entire trainload of Indians laughing at me. Thanks Peg. You saved me.
Peg , also based in Delhi, has been very supportive throughout. Except for the time she 'accidentally' locked me in the guest house at VSO headquarters. I think that room must have been used as prison quarters at some time, as you can lock someone inside with the simple flip of a latch. [clears throat] ahem.. initiation. Joke or not, I would have paid money to have watched from the outside as I freed myself using dirty kitchen utensils. "Why didn't you just call the office and have someone let you out"? she says. That's right Peggy, just keep on laughing. [cracks knuckles]
This is some guy I was chatting with in the front-of-car area pictured in Mutya's picture and where the waiter would later scare the bejesus out of me. I can't remember his name. I think it might have been Rajath or something like that. He mentioned he sold bricks. The other guy wouldn't speak to me only utter things in Hindi to his friend, at which point both of them would laugh. Originally enticed by my digital camera, Rajath and I had quite an interesting conversation about caste, marriage, and the promiscuity of westerners. I'm not sure what he got out of the conversation, but after an hour or so, I got this:
- The caste system is similar to the class system. Except in that you can't buy your way into a better caste.
- Inter-caste marriages are deeply frowned upon. You risk being disowned.
- Indian men (or at least these two) believe westerners (men and women) live a near-pornographic lifestyle. When I told him I was free to date black, oriental or middle-eastern women back home, he just about fell out of his seat.
- A delicious pakora meal. I didn't tell the girls as we were all pretty hungry, but Rajath knew the waiter - who promptly came out of his drawer and produced several pakora plates - warm as if freshly made. I didn't ask where they came from.
Right After That Happened...
Actually, this might have been before... it feels like it's been a year since all of this happened. To the left is pictured what is known as an Indian or Eastern toilet. Recommended by my car mates, I decided to give it a try. Interesting to note, is that on the inside, there is a turnable latch (not too much unlike the one Peg used to incarcerate me, as previously mentioned), which gives the illusion of locking the Eastern toilet from the inside. Well, it doesn't - as I, and an unfortunate Indian woman, soon discovered with surprise and horror, respectively. Worst part is, I was standing up - so she got the Full Monty, so to speak. I felt more embarrassed for her than myself. Especially given my recent conversation with the brick guy regarding Indian... sexual modesty. So, I'm a perv - just so you know.
Goa
As we drew closer to our destination, the climate started to really heat up. I can honestly say this is the hottest weather I have ever experienced (getting close to 40 degrees C). This a picture of the landscape. You can't see the palm trees here, but you'll see plenty in future posts. We got picked up at the station without further complications and next thing I knew I was in a near-tropical paradise.
There will be much, much more, but I'm hungry.
How I Got My Mobile Phone
I have my new mobile phone (which I didn't want to buy, but couldn't get my way), which I got at the last minute from a nice guy named Anurag, who works at the E-Market mobile store. This is the best kind of mobile store, where flexibility is more important than corporate integrity. For those Torontonians, think of an Indian Pacific Mall. Anyways, I wanted my Blackberry unlocked (which BTW, I will never be without again), but this was the night before and there was just no time. Suffice to say, that was a pretty chaotic evening which involved me running around Vasant Vihar like a crazed foreigner, jumping over VSO compound walls, panting and asking people who don't speak English questions in English - to which, not surprisingly, they responded to in Hindi. A fun evening, for sure. Point is; I got the cell phone.
Waiting at the Station
So we're (we being Mutya, Peggy, Debbie and Myself) at the train station and I, not knowing where I would be staying once I got back from Goa, have brought ALL of my belongings - which weighed approximately 1100 pounds. Oh, and this this was a sleeper train we'd be getting on to, for 30 hours. Already I was winded from carrying all that shit. And the train was two hours late. I did have the pleasure of watching a 5-foot-nothin'-tall man, who weighed a-hundred-and-nothin' pounds lift and carry my suitcase on his head. Much later, on the return flight, I would discover that the suitcase weighed close to 30 kilograms - so that was impressive. Also memorable around this time, was watching 95-pound Mutya (that's right, not even a hundred-and-nothin') be almost swept away by a mob of Delhians trying to get on to the general admission car. Fortunately my luggage was partially in their way - which provided an effective wall.
30 Hours of Sheer... Train Ride
Due to some prompting from Mutya, Tom and Peg at was decided previously that I should fly back to Delhi. This way, I would arrive in time for my placement (to begin on the 4th of March - or so I thought) and not have to do the 30-hour ride again. Suresh (who works at the VSO office) provided the train ticket at the best possible price, which, though Rs. 500 higher than what was online, was still a steal relative to Canadian prices.After hauling the luggage on and cramming it under that seat, we all slept awhile. Upon awaking, I got to know the girls better as we sat and chatted in the partially-vacant section near the front of the car - much to the chagrin of an elderly Indian couple, who were too polite to tell the loud and abrasive Westerners to shut the fuck up and let them sleep.
Anyways, this is a lot of text, so here's some more pictures:
The Players
This is Deb. She is from York, England. Her voice reminds of Ringo Star's (though I'm sure she would slap me if she read that). Deb is very outgoing and personable. She definitely made the trip go by a lot faster. That and her laptop full of obnoxious Western music that we all enjoyed heartily. Some of the Indian passengers seemed genuinely annoyed, but I got the feeling this was a way for the girls to assert themselves as Westerners. They've all been abroad for some time, and the assertion may have been cathartic. So whoopee. I feel this photograph sums Deb up well. She enjoys the little things and has a great outlook on life. Also, an adventurers' spirit.
This is Mutya. Fortunately for her, I'm talking about the figure on the left. Mutya is a Delhi-based volunteer with whom I will eventually be sharing a flat with. For somebody who has never set foot outside of Asia, her English is near perfect. Much, much better than that of some Canadians I know. I had an photo of her 'scratching' her nose, but she insisted that I delete it. For sure, Mutya is full of surprises.For those interested, the figure on the right is the waiter/caterer for the car. He's close to six foot tall and sleeps in the 'drawer' visible just above Mutya's head. I now realise that this is reflective of a low-caste lifestyle here in India. He provided surprisingly little food for a waiter (by which I mean none). But he was extremely polite to us throughout the trip - though he did open the drawer and scare the crap out of me at least once.
This is Peggy. In case you're wondering, Peggy got to ride the train in the First Class car - complete with live bands, marble flooring and banisters.Peggy - or Peg, as some the volunteers oddly call her - has been volunteering/travelling for some time now. She may very well be the most well-travelled person I have met here to date, having explored much of Asia in addition to her home Scotland. Though pretty even-keeled most of the time, Peg can, when necessary, leap into action. Stationed at one of the stopover stations somewhere along the way, I was saved from being stranded by Peg when the train started moving. Good thing she yelled or I would have never been able to muster up the .025km/hour speed necessary to clamber on - and would never have had the pleasure of having an entire trainload of Indians laughing at me. Thanks Peg. You saved me.
Peg , also based in Delhi, has been very supportive throughout. Except for the time she 'accidentally' locked me in the guest house at VSO headquarters. I think that room must have been used as prison quarters at some time, as you can lock someone inside with the simple flip of a latch. [clears throat] ahem.. initiation. Joke or not, I would have paid money to have watched from the outside as I freed myself using dirty kitchen utensils. "Why didn't you just call the office and have someone let you out"? she says. That's right Peggy, just keep on laughing. [cracks knuckles]
This is some guy I was chatting with in the front-of-car area pictured in Mutya's picture and where the waiter would later scare the bejesus out of me. I can't remember his name. I think it might have been Rajath or something like that. He mentioned he sold bricks. The other guy wouldn't speak to me only utter things in Hindi to his friend, at which point both of them would laugh. Originally enticed by my digital camera, Rajath and I had quite an interesting conversation about caste, marriage, and the promiscuity of westerners. I'm not sure what he got out of the conversation, but after an hour or so, I got this:- The caste system is similar to the class system. Except in that you can't buy your way into a better caste.
- Inter-caste marriages are deeply frowned upon. You risk being disowned.
- Indian men (or at least these two) believe westerners (men and women) live a near-pornographic lifestyle. When I told him I was free to date black, oriental or middle-eastern women back home, he just about fell out of his seat.
- A delicious pakora meal. I didn't tell the girls as we were all pretty hungry, but Rajath knew the waiter - who promptly came out of his drawer and produced several pakora plates - warm as if freshly made. I didn't ask where they came from.
Right After That Happened...
Actually, this might have been before... it feels like it's been a year since all of this happened. To the left is pictured what is known as an Indian or Eastern toilet. Recommended by my car mates, I decided to give it a try. Interesting to note, is that on the inside, there is a turnable latch (not too much unlike the one Peg used to incarcerate me, as previously mentioned), which gives the illusion of locking the Eastern toilet from the inside. Well, it doesn't - as I, and an unfortunate Indian woman, soon discovered with surprise and horror, respectively. Worst part is, I was standing up - so she got the Full Monty, so to speak. I felt more embarrassed for her than myself. Especially given my recent conversation with the brick guy regarding Indian... sexual modesty. So, I'm a perv - just so you know.Goa
As we drew closer to our destination, the climate started to really heat up. I can honestly say this is the hottest weather I have ever experienced (getting close to 40 degrees C). This a picture of the landscape. You can't see the palm trees here, but you'll see plenty in future posts. We got picked up at the station without further complications and next thing I knew I was in a near-tropical paradise.There will be much, much more, but I'm hungry.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Leave Comments!
I will be back from the Goa conference soon, which has been absolutely awesome so far. By the time I'm done here I will have:
- a tan
- a better understanding of volunteering
- new friends
- a whole bunch a stories daily from the last time I blogged
I just have one request:
Post comments!
You just click on the link called "COMMENTS" directly under this text.
- a tan
- a better understanding of volunteering
- new friends
- a whole bunch a stories daily from the last time I blogged
I just have one request:
Post comments!
You just click on the link called "COMMENTS" directly under this text.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Deaf Way and Other Stuff
The Deaf Way Foundation
This is an image of the people I will be working with at the Deaf Way. I must say, I have only just met these people, am not good with names, and these are Indian names - though, that might actually make this easier. The only person I'm going to mention at this point is Arun (a.k.a. "Happy"). He's the man facing left with the blue shirt on the far left. He's the president of Deaf Way and a really nice guy. He took me out for lunch on the 17th (I think). He can hear. It was his son who dissed the Indian food at the picnic, which I mentioned in a previous post.
Sundeep Hotel ~ Block F-8/22, Vasant Vihar
This is my (messy) room at the Sundeep Hotel. The bed and pillows are hard, but comfortable, the lighting confusing, and the room service excellent. As you can see, I have availed myself of all of my electronic equipment. The place is generally noisy, with the occasional man in the morning uttering some kind of prayer. Sounds like "eeeoooome". I haven't asked, but I think it may be some kind of Delhian wake up call - though I just heard one outside and it's almost noon. I'm not getting the feeling that there are many adult Delhians awake at this time.
This is the washroom. This is the Canadian washroom snob of four days ago talking:
[imagine a voice similar to the Millionaire from Gillian's Island]
Note the lack of shower curtain. See that Shower head and the top water knobs? They don't work. You have to turn on this thing (not pictured but to the right) called a geyser for 15-20 minutes to get hot water at all. Oh, and it is not recommended that non-Delhians drink this water or ever brush their teeth with it (though I did that this morning and am waiting to pay the consequences). I still do not know what the bucket on wheels is for.
Yeah, that was me four days ago. I have since cut my teeth a bit by taking at least two cold showers (before I figured out how the geyser works) and by taking a ride on an auto-rickshaw (more on that later). On a side note, I have only taken a New Delhi Dump (if you know what I mean) once - though I'm sure I'll get better acquainted with the toilet soon. I need to buy more books.
I felt pretty clever after this. You see, Indians - as a rule - do not use maps. I couldn't get one of my area (Vasant Vihar), so I took a photograph of one of the dilapidated street signs and have printed it out. Ha ha! As you might be able to see, the area is divided into Blocks; labelled A, B,C and so on. This map will allow me to get lost in entirely new, more creative and embarrassing ways. Directions from locals are not too helpful either. If a local gives you directions to go right then left then left, I generally go right and then ask the next Delhian which way to go. It's not that they're rude or anything (quite the opposite), but English is not their first language and they know the area so intimately, that it's hard to get us foreigners up to speed.
I will leave you with an image I took of myself while I was still jet lagged and couldn't sleep at four in the morning. This guy looks like the life of the party, eh? I'm going to take pics of myself over the course of this thing to chronicle things like weight loss, exhaustion and to see if I can actually grow a beard.
This is an image of the people I will be working with at the Deaf Way. I must say, I have only just met these people, am not good with names, and these are Indian names - though, that might actually make this easier. The only person I'm going to mention at this point is Arun (a.k.a. "Happy"). He's the man facing left with the blue shirt on the far left. He's the president of Deaf Way and a really nice guy. He took me out for lunch on the 17th (I think). He can hear. It was his son who dissed the Indian food at the picnic, which I mentioned in a previous post. Sundeep Hotel ~ Block F-8/22, Vasant Vihar
This is my (messy) room at the Sundeep Hotel. The bed and pillows are hard, but comfortable, the lighting confusing, and the room service excellent. As you can see, I have availed myself of all of my electronic equipment. The place is generally noisy, with the occasional man in the morning uttering some kind of prayer. Sounds like "eeeoooome". I haven't asked, but I think it may be some kind of Delhian wake up call - though I just heard one outside and it's almost noon. I'm not getting the feeling that there are many adult Delhians awake at this time. 
This is the washroom. This is the Canadian washroom snob of four days ago talking:[imagine a voice similar to the Millionaire from Gillian's Island]
Note the lack of shower curtain. See that Shower head and the top water knobs? They don't work. You have to turn on this thing (not pictured but to the right) called a geyser for 15-20 minutes to get hot water at all. Oh, and it is not recommended that non-Delhians drink this water or ever brush their teeth with it (though I did that this morning and am waiting to pay the consequences). I still do not know what the bucket on wheels is for.
Yeah, that was me four days ago. I have since cut my teeth a bit by taking at least two cold showers (before I figured out how the geyser works) and by taking a ride on an auto-rickshaw (more on that later). On a side note, I have only taken a New Delhi Dump (if you know what I mean) once - though I'm sure I'll get better acquainted with the toilet soon. I need to buy more books.
I felt pretty clever after this. You see, Indians - as a rule - do not use maps. I couldn't get one of my area (Vasant Vihar), so I took a photograph of one of the dilapidated street signs and have printed it out. Ha ha! As you might be able to see, the area is divided into Blocks; labelled A, B,C and so on. This map will allow me to get lost in entirely new, more creative and embarrassing ways. Directions from locals are not too helpful either. If a local gives you directions to go right then left then left, I generally go right and then ask the next Delhian which way to go. It's not that they're rude or anything (quite the opposite), but English is not their first language and they know the area so intimately, that it's hard to get us foreigners up to speed.
I will leave you with an image I took of myself while I was still jet lagged and couldn't sleep at four in the morning. This guy looks like the life of the party, eh? I'm going to take pics of myself over the course of this thing to chronicle things like weight loss, exhaustion and to see if I can actually grow a beard.Monday, February 19, 2007
The Past Five Days...
Well, looks like I had some time to post again today. So I've got some images this time.I left Toronto in a mad rush to get Tulan her mobile for Uganda from my friend Ted - as well as take care of a million things that seemed so important at the time and I can now not even remember.
This is a nice shot from the airplane. I had some nicer ones but Tulan (whose incessant jabbering I had to endure during the flight) 'accidentally' erased them from my camera. I'm just kidding, she was great. What wasn't great was the fact that our London flight was delayed by two hours in Toronto. At first I thought "Great, Tulan has a 12 hour layover, and, seeing how my intended layover was only two hours, I should get the flight bumped up".
Not so. As soon as I got to Heathrow, some British Airways bloke commanded me to follow him. I can only describe his tone as rude with a touch of accusation. Anyways, I hugged Tulan goodbye and soon me and this Seik with a thousand-pound suitcase were giving chase behind this guy. "Do you have your boarding pass"? he asked. He might have well have said "It's your fault the plane had mechanical difficulties, you know". I was starting to believe that that nice London layover was NOT going to happen.
Twenty minutes later whoosh - I was at 20,000 feet and climbing and on my way to India. Fortunately, I had the best possible row mates for such a long flight - if only I could remember their names. The man in the background - I think his name is Paul - is a retired engineer who specialized in alternative power sources. He had been to India several times, and had decided to bring his wife so she could enjoy it too. Though the image might suggest otherwise, they were quiet and slept for much of the 38 hour flight (as did I). We got to New Delhi without mishap and I was soon picked up by...
Raj! This is Raj and Ruth. Raj is a New Delhi native. Ruth is not. She's an English lass who did some volunteering in India in the 70s and was back to visit. Raj is a great guy who works for the VSO India office and someone whom I have already personally pissed off on at least one occasion. Raj and Ruth were old friends and chatted while I tried to remain conscious enough to not offend. Raj dropped Ruth off and dropped me off at the Sundeep Inn. The lodgings were modest, but really quite comfortable. I don't think I ever slept so soundly in my life. What we take for granted...
At the risk of sounding cliched, I would like to open this post by saying; we really do have it way too good in Canada. I have spent less than a week in this country and have already noticed the vast discrepancy in facilities. It's taken me close to a week to get on the internet. The hardware here was maybe cutting edge four years ago. When I ask people at the various buildings I've visited if the have wireless internet, they look at me like "Oooh, la de da, he wants WiFi! Well, roll out the red carpet" (In Hindi, of course). Please forgive the exaggeration there. Everyone here has been extremely nice and as accommodating as possible. Truly, there is far too much to recant in the half an hour I have to eat yet another life-changingly delicious Indian meal (not sarcasm). Toronto cuisine has NOTHING on these people, NOTHING. In fact, one teen aged Indian Delhian described the very-possibly-best-Indian-meal-I've-ever-had as "terrible". My taste buds are getting excited.
I've taken quite a few pics, but can't get them from my computer to this one - so that's going to have to wait. However, I do have a better idea of what I'll be doing here:
(oh - this is a list)
- building (or rather re-building) a website (I met the original builder - he looked like he wanted to strangle me)
- teaching a number of deaf Delhians (oh, yeah, I'm working for the Deaf Way Foundation) how to use computers/software better - a nice segway into...
-learning sign language (I visited a Deaf Way picnic yesterday - there must have been 200 people there and you could have heard a pin drop)
- learning (and very probably butchering) a bit of the Hindi spoken language
- getting diarrhea (can't WAIT!)
- loosing all sensation in my mouth, then throwing myself off the nearest high building when they decide to stop humouring the white man and give me the REAL Indian spices
- finally getting my internal clock working properly - as I still wake up at about 4:30 am and putter on my internet-less computer or reorganize my mobile's Address Book for the eleven-hundredth time
- getting a tan, so I can 'blend in' with the locals
I promise to get all images taken up in the next few days. There has been much to tell and show. This is one crazy adventure.
Namaste,
M.
I've taken quite a few pics, but can't get them from my computer to this one - so that's going to have to wait. However, I do have a better idea of what I'll be doing here:
(oh - this is a list)
- building (or rather re-building) a website (I met the original builder - he looked like he wanted to strangle me)
- teaching a number of deaf Delhians (oh, yeah, I'm working for the Deaf Way Foundation) how to use computers/software better - a nice segway into...
-learning sign language (I visited a Deaf Way picnic yesterday - there must have been 200 people there and you could have heard a pin drop)
- learning (and very probably butchering) a bit of the Hindi spoken language
- getting diarrhea (can't WAIT!)
- loosing all sensation in my mouth, then throwing myself off the nearest high building when they decide to stop humouring the white man and give me the REAL Indian spices
- finally getting my internal clock working properly - as I still wake up at about 4:30 am and putter on my internet-less computer or reorganize my mobile's Address Book for the eleven-hundredth time
- getting a tan, so I can 'blend in' with the locals
I promise to get all images taken up in the next few days. There has been much to tell and show. This is one crazy adventure.
Namaste,
M.
Monday, January 29, 2007
Goodness Gracious
It has been several months since my last blog. To quickly recap the situation, I have once again gone to Cuba where I had even more fun than last time, have quit job 'job' and joined what is effectively the Canadian Peace Corps. This blog will, after Valentine's Day, be a narrative of what happens to me in New Delhi, India for the next two to six months. Now that's a pretty dramatic update, no?
I am trying to raise $500 for the VSO — by which I will utilize a previously-imagined though as-yet-unused idea of selling tattoos to the parlours around the GTA. I'm running out of time and have been dragging my heels on this one a lot so here's hoping I can raise some money this way.
This crazy turn of events has not 'dawned' on me yet — so I'm sure I'll freaking out (possibly on this blog) in the next couple of weeks before my departure.
I am trying to raise $500 for the VSO — by which I will utilize a previously-imagined though as-yet-unused idea of selling tattoos to the parlours around the GTA. I'm running out of time and have been dragging my heels on this one a lot so here's hoping I can raise some money this way.
This crazy turn of events has not 'dawned' on me yet — so I'm sure I'll freaking out (possibly on this blog) in the next couple of weeks before my departure.
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Ola!
I've gotten pretty used to saying that over the past week. The trip to Cuba was an interesting time. Highlights include snorkeling (fun), midnight drives to Havanna (mildly scary), scooter tours (really fun) and being chased by a bull (exhilerating). Much of the trip went off without a hitch, except that Ted forgot his sleep apnea machine which put a damper on his energy and we ran out of money on the last day. It is really rather hard to describe one's first time in a semi-tropical third-world country. It wasn't really as hot as I expected (though the sun was more intense) and there is a greater variety and frequency of wildlife. I remember being near my room at the resort only to see a huge crab staring back at me from behind a dip in the steps. Dogs hanging out on rooftops were also an unfamiliar sight.
Bit I think the strangest thing about Cuba was how the whole place was at once severly dilapidated and yet possessing of a happy vibe. People everywhere were talking, walking, laughing, drinking (which can be done publicly there) working and otherwise seemlingly pretty happy. This stands in sharp contrast to the subtle but apparent undertow of desperation and hostility I felt when I was in London, England. Everybody there was cramped in like sardines, but in very nice buildings. Where the Cubans were pleasantly sipping their mohitos half-naked in the middle of what looked like a warzone untouched (and unrepaired) since the 1950's, the English, on a saturday night, busied themselves getting gussied up to the 9s so they could get violently drunk and cuss at each other in language I wouldn't utter to a death row inmate. Most of the white english folk I saw while in London looked like zombies. Their skin seemed gray and drawn into a scowl. The Pink Floyd line "...quiet desperation is the English way" immediately springs to mind. The Cubans, however had a kind of rough-and-ready look about them. As if they could at any moment break into song or construct a viaduct.
My Indiana Jones Moment
By the very end of our stay at Breezes Jibacoa (the resort) we had run out of money. Sitting in front of the bus-loop, and presumably bored, Ted jokingly bet Carlos $100 he couldn't climb the mountain (really just a huge, steep hill) in the front of us and be back before we had to leave at 7 pm (about thirty-five minutes). Carlos, as with most of the activies during the trip, was disinclined to do so. I volunteered but Ted wouldn't do it for more than $20. Decked out in my Indiana Jones-esque attire and having not shaved in a couple of days I set out in spite of Ted's insistence that I was being stupid and he had only been kidding. After ascertaining from the security guard how to get to the path, I set out to conquer the mountain and claim my prize. I was breathing hard after about 10 seconds of cutting through the bush and by the time I had reached the top I was covered with scratches from the thick folliage. Ted was a good 300 metres below me when I called to him about 5 mintues after I had set out. Now for the easy part - or so I thought.
I mentioned the word path eariler. Perhaps this is a bit misleading. In this context, what I mean by path is a small opening in dense forest where someone or something has passed through sometime in the recent past - or not. For some reason going up had left me relatively unscathed. Going down seemed to result with my getting aquianted with every thorn, vine, spike and insect I had missed on the way up. I have a scar from a thorn I thought was caught on some loose clothing. Precarious, the slope seemed steeper than before.
But anyways, I did eventually reach the bottom - though this time it took more like twenty minutes. But what a great feeling! Walking down the gravel road back, my arms were covered with scratches and hives, my head was sore from the heat and the unyielding tree branch it had struck. I was completely dreched with sweat and my clothes torn - but I had done it! - and in due time. Then I turned around to see an eight-hundred pound (this is a guess here) bull charging me. After letting out a girlish scream, I bolted down the road. I was running as fast as I could but the bull hadn't even exceeded a gallop before it had almost overtaken me (it's horns were huge!). Desperate, I dove into the folliage in the hopes the animal's momentum would carry it past me. Not only did the bull continue past me but carried it's leisurely pace down the road to the set of winsome cows that had probably initiated its 'charge' in the first place. Two Cuban women stood nearby, chuckling.
The bus had already arrived and I got on. It was before seven so I had won the bet. For sure I had caused more than twenty dollars' worth of damage to my clothing and body. Not to mention hives which had gone from itchy to painful. I also felt bad for the woman who had to sit next to me. I probably smelled like tarzan and she soon died from exposure to my man-musk. None of this mattered of course, for I had fulfilled my stupid man-quest for the trip and had my machismo placated for a time.
I have no pictures yet. But I think Ted brought along every piece of recording equipment he and his family own so they will be forthcoming and excellent. There is much more to tell and see.
Bit I think the strangest thing about Cuba was how the whole place was at once severly dilapidated and yet possessing of a happy vibe. People everywhere were talking, walking, laughing, drinking (which can be done publicly there) working and otherwise seemlingly pretty happy. This stands in sharp contrast to the subtle but apparent undertow of desperation and hostility I felt when I was in London, England. Everybody there was cramped in like sardines, but in very nice buildings. Where the Cubans were pleasantly sipping their mohitos half-naked in the middle of what looked like a warzone untouched (and unrepaired) since the 1950's, the English, on a saturday night, busied themselves getting gussied up to the 9s so they could get violently drunk and cuss at each other in language I wouldn't utter to a death row inmate. Most of the white english folk I saw while in London looked like zombies. Their skin seemed gray and drawn into a scowl. The Pink Floyd line "...quiet desperation is the English way" immediately springs to mind. The Cubans, however had a kind of rough-and-ready look about them. As if they could at any moment break into song or construct a viaduct.
My Indiana Jones Moment
By the very end of our stay at Breezes Jibacoa (the resort) we had run out of money. Sitting in front of the bus-loop, and presumably bored, Ted jokingly bet Carlos $100 he couldn't climb the mountain (really just a huge, steep hill) in the front of us and be back before we had to leave at 7 pm (about thirty-five minutes). Carlos, as with most of the activies during the trip, was disinclined to do so. I volunteered but Ted wouldn't do it for more than $20. Decked out in my Indiana Jones-esque attire and having not shaved in a couple of days I set out in spite of Ted's insistence that I was being stupid and he had only been kidding. After ascertaining from the security guard how to get to the path, I set out to conquer the mountain and claim my prize. I was breathing hard after about 10 seconds of cutting through the bush and by the time I had reached the top I was covered with scratches from the thick folliage. Ted was a good 300 metres below me when I called to him about 5 mintues after I had set out. Now for the easy part - or so I thought.
I mentioned the word path eariler. Perhaps this is a bit misleading. In this context, what I mean by path is a small opening in dense forest where someone or something has passed through sometime in the recent past - or not. For some reason going up had left me relatively unscathed. Going down seemed to result with my getting aquianted with every thorn, vine, spike and insect I had missed on the way up. I have a scar from a thorn I thought was caught on some loose clothing. Precarious, the slope seemed steeper than before.
But anyways, I did eventually reach the bottom - though this time it took more like twenty minutes. But what a great feeling! Walking down the gravel road back, my arms were covered with scratches and hives, my head was sore from the heat and the unyielding tree branch it had struck. I was completely dreched with sweat and my clothes torn - but I had done it! - and in due time. Then I turned around to see an eight-hundred pound (this is a guess here) bull charging me. After letting out a girlish scream, I bolted down the road. I was running as fast as I could but the bull hadn't even exceeded a gallop before it had almost overtaken me (it's horns were huge!). Desperate, I dove into the folliage in the hopes the animal's momentum would carry it past me. Not only did the bull continue past me but carried it's leisurely pace down the road to the set of winsome cows that had probably initiated its 'charge' in the first place. Two Cuban women stood nearby, chuckling.
The bus had already arrived and I got on. It was before seven so I had won the bet. For sure I had caused more than twenty dollars' worth of damage to my clothing and body. Not to mention hives which had gone from itchy to painful. I also felt bad for the woman who had to sit next to me. I probably smelled like tarzan and she soon died from exposure to my man-musk. None of this mattered of course, for I had fulfilled my stupid man-quest for the trip and had my machismo placated for a time.
I have no pictures yet. But I think Ted brought along every piece of recording equipment he and his family own so they will be forthcoming and excellent. There is much more to tell and see.
Sunday, July 16, 2006
I Used a Thesaurus
Here you go, Biku. Your final portrait. If you dislike the head and neck in this image, I agree - they need a little work. Overall, though, I think it turned out OK. Hope you like it too.Perhaps I'll turn your head as to actually look where you're sending that thunderbolt. Or, I could make a compostie image of you and K. with the bolt about to strike an unwitting K. - but that wouldn't be nice.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
New Work
I know I promised to wait for permission from K. to post this, but I just can't wait (I do promise to take it down should there be an objection on her part). Several posts ago, after seeing Nikki's D & D portrait, K. requested one. She wanted something involving fire magic. This wound up taking much longer than expected. For that reason, I endeavoured to make the portrait extra good. I fear I have realised the bar a little too far, as Biku has now requested a new version of hers be done on par with this one.
Friday, May 12, 2006
MARLU2
In light of the overwhelming success of the Marlu Walk this past sunday, I have decided to go double-or-nothing with Biku. The new challenge, named Marlu2 will take place sometime soon (hopefully in May) and feature an increased distance to cover. In the same amount of time alloted in the last walk (3 hours), I will walk south on Yonge St. from Highway 7 to Lakeshore Blvd. This effectively means I must walk from Hwy. 7 to Finch in less than 39 minutes and then the rest in the same amount of time as last time.
The last walk was just too disappointing. I didn't have to push myself much at all and it was all rather anticlimactic. For those of you who contributed to the past Marlu Walk, you can choose to contribute to this one if you want. It's more of a vendetta between Biku and me. Our contribution(s) will be $200 apiece, assuming I make it.
The last walk was just too disappointing. I didn't have to push myself much at all and it was all rather anticlimactic. For those of you who contributed to the past Marlu Walk, you can choose to contribute to this one if you want. It's more of a vendetta between Biku and me. Our contribution(s) will be $200 apiece, assuming I make it.
Sunday, May 07, 2006
"Marlu" Walk a Success
The walk started at 10AM sharp (much later than expected) at Finch Ave. In spite of the rather heavy sidewalk traffic and extra pollution from many an automobile, I managed to complete the walk and win the bet. The bet, for anybody who doesn't know, was that I couldn't walk from Finch Avenue south on Yonge St to the Lake (Lakeshore Blvd.) in less than 3 hours. Biku thought I couldn't do it and the bet for $100 turned into a charity walk with other contributors.
The official distance was 15.3 km and was completed in 2 hours, 21 minutes and 30 seconds, which means I was walking at roughly 6.5 kilometers per hour. The monies will be donated to the World Wildlife Fund.
PS: my legs hurt
The official distance was 15.3 km and was completed in 2 hours, 21 minutes and 30 seconds, which means I was walking at roughly 6.5 kilometers per hour. The monies will be donated to the World Wildlife Fund.
PS: my legs hurt
Saturday, April 08, 2006
Crazy Goat Flyer
I might have promised to let Biku upload this image first, but she hasn't done that yet and I just can't wait. The typeface is by her (designed from scratch and in outline) and is called Kaffe, which I think is German for coffee. Although Biku also did the layout, the rest of the elements (like the wavy lines) are mine.
I asked Jamey if he would be interested in a WWII-style poster of a mechanic holding a can of oil (maybe the old kind with the spout) but it's actually for Mercury (with logo) and contains coffee.
In an unrelated note, the Marlu walk of '06 has been postponed because I doing some moving (just my stuff going to Brampton, not me) and I'll be looking for a place soon. This is in addition to my work at Hedonics and other duties. So I'll be busy.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
The Real Wrap
As much as I liked the original DVD wrap for Sheltered Life, this one is just... much better. Since there were two films, I wondered how I was going to create a composite image to represent both films. "It's too bad I can't just do one cover on each side" I thought - so I did!
This has Sheltered Life on the cover. I know it's hard to imagine what this might look like on the shelf, but try to imagine the right half (roughly) as the whole front for one side, and this...
.. parts' right halft as the front for the other side. This way the cover would open the same way from both sides. In effect, no front or back.
I think this must have been printed and released by now, so if you've seen one and know me, please let me know.
By the way, in case you're wondering if the colour motif has something to do with a certain famous American gang rivalry, it doesn't. Nor do the films.
This has Sheltered Life on the cover. I know it's hard to imagine what this might look like on the shelf, but try to imagine the right half (roughly) as the whole front for one side, and this...
.. parts' right halft as the front for the other side. This way the cover would open the same way from both sides. In effect, no front or back.
I think this must have been printed and released by now, so if you've seen one and know me, please let me know.
By the way, in case you're wondering if the colour motif has something to do with a certain famous American gang rivalry, it doesn't. Nor do the films.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Oh yeah...
I just remembered. I have both of the DVD wraps I did for Adam Reid. Here is the first one. The background images in the background are really cool looking together, but the type covers them up. I like this one a lot, but the next one is better.
Saturday, April 01, 2006
Crazy Goats Need a Home...
I'm sure Jamey won't mind a little advertising so here goes. This is a sneak preview of the baby and goat (caffeinated) that will be used in the first Mercury Espresso Bar flyer, due out soon. In case you're wondering Mercuary Espresso is a new establishment (under a month old) that is located on Queen St. between Logan and Carlaw on the south side.
The goats name is Kaffa and the baby's is Mercury Espresso. The flyer will be viewable soon on *insert subplot here* for anyone who's interested in seeing the final version - which will include some of Biku's excellent type work.
Best part is that the solo goat will be a mural in the Espresso Bar soon! Hopefully, this will be one of my murals that will actually avoid being painted over within a month. Though I won't be painting it myself. Alos hopefully, they will use some kind of stencil as I am quite proud of the new (Adobe Illustrator) techniques I have used it this piece's execution.
I strongly recommend seeing the full sized version of this one as there are many small details not noticeable at this size.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Been a while..
Oddly enough this post comes not from any particular desire on my part to post, but of Biku's. This is for Nikki, whom I promised to make a D & D portrait of. I was just going to mail to you, but Biku thought this would give everyone a chance to see it. I was hesitant (in case you didn't like it) - but here goes.
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