Excellent news which, upon delivery, will serve to stimulate the emotion reciprocal to disappointment is yours for the taking! To redeem this offer, read the text included here below:
Firstly, the concept of the addition of photo and video recordings to supplement this Humble Pie Publication is in the process of being realized. Links to sources of such media are now available on my profile. Hopefully they will continue to grow in beaps and lounds. Zounds of Bleeps! And Sheeps!
Secondly, this Humple Bie Narrator, Editor, and general perpetrator will depart in a short time for a tour of the southern parts and Goa parts of the Brave Subcontinent. Said adventure will take place over a period defined by the passage of three hundred and sixty hours, or 15 rotations of the Earth. Following my predestined Triumphant Return, the wealth of information, both textual and photographic, should be overwhelming.
“Ever changing, ever flowing, the plasmodium creeps over the surface of the substratum, engulfing particles of food in its way.” -Alexipolus and Mims, Introductory Mycology
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Elections
It is necessary to at this time make an interjection into the Original Post, a note of explanation. Many of the Excellent Posts found Below were composed using OpenOffice, rather than online. This allows the Clever and Versatile Narrator to effectively write his narrations without depending upon the presence of the internet. However, this also necessitates a certain lag time between the composition and the actual posting of said portions of said narration, which in this case equals thirteen days, due to a lapse in cognitive aptitude. The narrator thanks you for your understanding.
If you've seen those movies that depict political campaigning in the 30's and 40's, you'll remember some guy on a wooden platform yelling at a crowd of people, usually through some crackly PA system. Behind him you'll see a great canvas with slogans and pictures on it, explaining just why he represents your interests best. Off the silver screen, you might find a similar scene on the street in Mumbai around election time. Parades of supporters in matching colors setting off fireworks are a frequent enough occurrence that one might hear their firecrackers all day. The results for this year's election came in two days ago (it takes 12 days to count the votes), with the congress party leading, followed by .....aaaaand the light fixture behind me just blew up. That one.
Anyway, when people here go to vote, their right index finger is painted with a chemical that stays long enough for the fingernail to completely grow out before the mark on the skin is gone. Here you can see an excellent demonstration of the voter's mark.
I should mention it's important the mark is made on the right index finger, as a secondary election will sometimes overlap with the time it takes for the mark to disappear; for this second election the left index finger is marked. I've included below some images of the election results in the Times of India.
“-” -Charles Mingus, Goodbye Porkpie Hat
If you've seen those movies that depict political campaigning in the 30's and 40's, you'll remember some guy on a wooden platform yelling at a crowd of people, usually through some crackly PA system. Behind him you'll see a great canvas with slogans and pictures on it, explaining just why he represents your interests best. Off the silver screen, you might find a similar scene on the street in Mumbai around election time. Parades of supporters in matching colors setting off fireworks are a frequent enough occurrence that one might hear their firecrackers all day. The results for this year's election came in two days ago (it takes 12 days to count the votes), with the congress party leading, followed by .....aaaaand the light fixture behind me just blew up. That one.
Anyway, when people here go to vote, their right index finger is painted with a chemical that stays long enough for the fingernail to completely grow out before the mark on the skin is gone. Here you can see an excellent demonstration of the voter's mark.
I should mention it's important the mark is made on the right index finger, as a secondary election will sometimes overlap with the time it takes for the mark to disappear; for this second election the left index finger is marked. I've included below some images of the election results in the Times of India.
“-” -Charles Mingus, Goodbye Porkpie Hat
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Happy Divali
I bet you thought I forgot, didn't you?
I was just building the suspense. The most recent noteworthy event, of which your Absentminded (Yet Exceedingly Bright) Narrator unfortunately secured no evidence, was Divali, the celebration of the new year as according to the Hindu calendar. The time leading up to Divali has an air of festivity very similar to the period defined by Christmas and the New Year as celebrated in the U.S. of America. Friends have parties when possible in time around the actual holiday, parties characterized by the expression of friendship through exchanging small gifts. Family unity is especially cherished, and the decoration is even similar: lights are stung up on windows of homes and businesses, and the colors red, green, and gold can be found in excess. And similar to a Christmas bonus, most employers give Divali bonuses, which are usually equal to about a month's salary.
Obviously there are bound to be differences in celebrations on different sides of the Earth, the most visible of which is firecrackers. In Mumbai, at least during Divali, there are no ordinances against fireworks. Before you can fully contemplate this, it is necessary to remember that there are 21,880 people per square kilometer here (that's 56,669 people per square mile). The city is immersed for one weekend in smoke; the thickest smoke I encountered had a visibility of about 15 feet. Naturally this is not a holiday friendly to asthmatics, and there has been some protest in the past few years from their community, as well as the ecologically-minded folk against the use of firecrackers (actually, against their pollution- “smokeless” firecrackers are available for purchase, but cost significantly more), which is not limited to one weekend, but occurs on either margin of the holiday itself for at least one week- the Well-Tuned Ears of your Narrator are able to perceive the sonic effect of such explosive discharges at this very moment, 11:47 AM, 21/10/09.
Another recent development in this Elegant Work of Non-Fiction is a change of setting; the Rotary I. Youth E. program requires three changes of host families throughout the year, with a result of four total households engaged in providing for Outgoing Youths such as myself (a person of equal measure to your Jovial Narrator). The new Base of Operations will be located in the district of Colaba, which is at the very southernmost tip of the island. Notable structures in Colaba include the Gateway of India and the Taj Mahal Hotel.
More to follow, date of re-location unknown.
“Mr. Lebeziatnikov who keeps up with modern ideas explained the other day that compassion is forbidden nowadays by science itself, and that that's what is done now in England, where there is political economy.” -Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment
I was just building the suspense. The most recent noteworthy event, of which your Absentminded (Yet Exceedingly Bright) Narrator unfortunately secured no evidence, was Divali, the celebration of the new year as according to the Hindu calendar. The time leading up to Divali has an air of festivity very similar to the period defined by Christmas and the New Year as celebrated in the U.S. of America. Friends have parties when possible in time around the actual holiday, parties characterized by the expression of friendship through exchanging small gifts. Family unity is especially cherished, and the decoration is even similar: lights are stung up on windows of homes and businesses, and the colors red, green, and gold can be found in excess. And similar to a Christmas bonus, most employers give Divali bonuses, which are usually equal to about a month's salary.
Obviously there are bound to be differences in celebrations on different sides of the Earth, the most visible of which is firecrackers. In Mumbai, at least during Divali, there are no ordinances against fireworks. Before you can fully contemplate this, it is necessary to remember that there are 21,880 people per square kilometer here (that's 56,669 people per square mile). The city is immersed for one weekend in smoke; the thickest smoke I encountered had a visibility of about 15 feet. Naturally this is not a holiday friendly to asthmatics, and there has been some protest in the past few years from their community, as well as the ecologically-minded folk against the use of firecrackers (actually, against their pollution- “smokeless” firecrackers are available for purchase, but cost significantly more), which is not limited to one weekend, but occurs on either margin of the holiday itself for at least one week- the Well-Tuned Ears of your Narrator are able to perceive the sonic effect of such explosive discharges at this very moment, 11:47 AM, 21/10/09.
Another recent development in this Elegant Work of Non-Fiction is a change of setting; the Rotary I. Youth E. program requires three changes of host families throughout the year, with a result of four total households engaged in providing for Outgoing Youths such as myself (a person of equal measure to your Jovial Narrator). The new Base of Operations will be located in the district of Colaba, which is at the very southernmost tip of the island. Notable structures in Colaba include the Gateway of India and the Taj Mahal Hotel.
More to follow, date of re-location unknown.
“Mr. Lebeziatnikov who keeps up with modern ideas explained the other day that compassion is forbidden nowadays by science itself, and that that's what is done now in England, where there is political economy.” -Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Gujarat, pt. 2
Most of my pictures of Baroda were deleted by a mysterious force, which is disappointing, as the city gets interesting after midnight. Gujarat is a dry state, and there are subsequently zero bars or clubs to be open late anywhere. In fact, it is illegal in Baroda for businesses to operate after midnight, meaning the streets are totally empty. The legal exception to this is the railway station, which remains open (and operates) around the clock. This is the largest gathering point for folks out late and a stark contrast to the rest of the town. Until you turn the corner approaching the station, you see absolutely no one; the building lights are all out, the streets are empty, etc. At the station, however, there are hundreds of late-nighters munching on food from the various stalls harbored by the aura of legal assembly of the station. Aside from this station, only a handful of fast food restaurants push the boundaries, staying open until one or two in the morning. By that time, they're making only one thing, which allows them close quickly should an authority (who doesn't want to eat) happen by. Therefore, where you go, aside from the rail station, depends on what you want to eat. Every night that Varun and I went to the United Way garba, we engaged in 'island-hopping' with friends, darting around what seemed like an abandoned town from one dish to another. If I get a chance to return to Baroda, I'll certainly take more pictures of this phenomenon, but I'm sure you're all Imaginative Readers.
“Gallant cabbage grabbin'
Stackin'
Hammer slammin'
Captain
Stabbin talent lackin;
Yappin'
Slackin'
Rappers
Smack 'em
Backwards
Ballads
Tackles
Actors
Savage
At this
Bammer crap is damned and banished
Lavish
Fans will go bananas
And command
Some Gab
A master at this
Transcendental gathering
Of rhythm sticks “ -Blackalicious, Rhythm Sticks
“Gallant cabbage grabbin'
Stackin'
Hammer slammin'
Captain
Stabbin talent lackin;
Yappin'
Slackin'
Rappers
Smack 'em
Backwards
Ballads
Tackles
Actors
Savage
At this
Bammer crap is damned and banished
Lavish
Fans will go bananas
And command
Some Gab
A master at this
Transcendental gathering
Of rhythm sticks “ -Blackalicious, Rhythm Sticks
Monday, October 5, 2009
Gujarat, pt. 1
Well it's been some time oh readers of mine (it rhymes!), and during some time, some things have been done, some of which will be here disclosed. The main reason, aside from sloth, for such a discontinuity in the narrative concerned, is a sojourn of almost two weeks in Gujarat, the state bordering Maharastra to the north-ish. Gujrati, the language native to Gujarat, is widely spoken in Mumbai as well as its home state, as a large majority of the businessmen here are Gujrati, like my host family. It was with my father's brother's family who I stayed with in Baroda (or Vadodara, depending on who you're talking to), who you can see here.
Varun, the son of the family, had gone to Brazil last year on the same exchange program that I'm here in India on.
When I first arrived in Baroda, we left immediately for Ahmadabad, where Toral, Varun's sister, stays for her work and education. We spent two days there, during which time I went for my first garba at St. Xavier's college. What is a garba, you ask? 'A legitimate question', I reply, 'as most of you have no prior knowledge of such things'. 'Garba', I continue, 'is the nocturnal gathering which occurs every night of the festival Navratri.' You see, About-to-be-Enlightened Readers, the very reason for which I embarked on this peregrination was to, as clearly stated on my application to travel out of district, “observe and participate in the festival of Navratri”. The garba is native, and almost exclusive to, the state of Gujarat. Some, if not all, of the largest garbas in the world are held there. One particularly famous garba which we had gone to most nights, held by the charity United Way in Baroda, has an attendance (I'm told [and believe]) of 25,000 people. A few more details on the subject of garbas, then back to the narrative (tomorrow): these dances typically start at eight or nine O'clock, and end at eleven to two O'clock, depending on the enthusiasm of the people at the given venue. Traditional dress is mandatory for dancers, food and drink can be bought at stalls, which offer anything from Macdonald's to Manchurian. Lastly, there is very limited space at these garbas, just like any other gathering in India. The photos below were taken at the United Way garba in Baroda, at 12 and 1 am, respectively. Will post tomorrow, and probably again the next day.
“-Upon my word it makes my blood boil to hear anyone compare Aristotle with Plato.
-Which of the two, Stephen asked, would have me banished from the commonwealth?
Unsheathe your dagger definitions. Horseness is the whatness of allhorse. Streams of tendency and eons they worship. God: noise in the street: very peripatetic. Space: what you damn well have to see.” -James Joyce, Ulysses
Varun, the son of the family, had gone to Brazil last year on the same exchange program that I'm here in India on.
When I first arrived in Baroda, we left immediately for Ahmadabad, where Toral, Varun's sister, stays for her work and education. We spent two days there, during which time I went for my first garba at St. Xavier's college. What is a garba, you ask? 'A legitimate question', I reply, 'as most of you have no prior knowledge of such things'. 'Garba', I continue, 'is the nocturnal gathering which occurs every night of the festival Navratri.' You see, About-to-be-Enlightened Readers, the very reason for which I embarked on this peregrination was to, as clearly stated on my application to travel out of district, “observe and participate in the festival of Navratri”. The garba is native, and almost exclusive to, the state of Gujarat. Some, if not all, of the largest garbas in the world are held there. One particularly famous garba which we had gone to most nights, held by the charity United Way in Baroda, has an attendance (I'm told [and believe]) of 25,000 people. A few more details on the subject of garbas, then back to the narrative (tomorrow): these dances typically start at eight or nine O'clock, and end at eleven to two O'clock, depending on the enthusiasm of the people at the given venue. Traditional dress is mandatory for dancers, food and drink can be bought at stalls, which offer anything from Macdonald's to Manchurian. Lastly, there is very limited space at these garbas, just like any other gathering in India. The photos below were taken at the United Way garba in Baroda, at 12 and 1 am, respectively. Will post tomorrow, and probably again the next day.
“-Upon my word it makes my blood boil to hear anyone compare Aristotle with Plato.
-Which of the two, Stephen asked, would have me banished from the commonwealth?
Unsheathe your dagger definitions. Horseness is the whatness of allhorse. Streams of tendency and eons they worship. God: noise in the street: very peripatetic. Space: what you damn well have to see.” -James Joyce, Ulysses
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Ganesh Festival...
Readers,
I'd like you to know this: Hello.
Goku and I followed the Ganpati processions from Dadar Circle to Shivaji Park last Thursday, complete with dancing, firecrackers, and fireworks. I'd like to share a few words with you...
Fritterfrapp
gultzpoon
quinine
Lemon Tree
Ferocious
Thanks you
For ya'll's's info, we're experiencing no end of technical issues regarding internet- hence the all-text posts... I'll let you know when things change, but for now: No Pics for YOU!
“Distinguishing Matter and Emptiness
It means that the character of the lion is unreal; there is only real gold. The lion is not existent, but the substance of the gold is not nonexistent. Therefore they are called matter and Emptiness. Furthermore, Emptiness has no character of its own; it shows itself by means of matter. This does not obstruct its illusory existence. Therefore they are called matter and Emptiness.”
-Treatise on the Gold Lion
Fa-tsang
I'd like you to know this: Hello.
Goku and I followed the Ganpati processions from Dadar Circle to Shivaji Park last Thursday, complete with dancing, firecrackers, and fireworks. I'd like to share a few words with you...
Fritterfrapp
gultzpoon
quinine
Lemon Tree
Ferocious
Thanks you
For ya'll's's info, we're experiencing no end of technical issues regarding internet- hence the all-text posts... I'll let you know when things change, but for now: No Pics for YOU!
“Distinguishing Matter and Emptiness
It means that the character of the lion is unreal; there is only real gold. The lion is not existent, but the substance of the gold is not nonexistent. Therefore they are called matter and Emptiness. Furthermore, Emptiness has no character of its own; it shows itself by means of matter. This does not obstruct its illusory existence. Therefore they are called matter and Emptiness.”
-Treatise on the Gold Lion
Fa-tsang
Out of Station- Pt. 2
The last thing you ought to know about this orchard is that just next door they have emus. 18 of them. According to Goku's host cousin Shreya, you can sell their eggs for rs. 6000 (roughly 120 USD) for spiritual/medicinal purposes. Of course, they lay about one egg every year, so that 6000 has to cover their per annum upkeep.
As those Diligent Readers will recall from the previous installment of MtM, the primary purpose of our pleasant pop in was the celebration of the Ganesh festival with Suhas' family. This was no small affair, given the size of said family; every person in that village was a cousin of some sort to Suhas. Serving lunch took almost two hours, and there were four rooms full of diners I have no idea how many times. Every day we were there they held multiple poojas, which is basically a prayer session. The day of celebration in which the house was visited by the population described above two priests chanted prayers nonstop for five or six hours. What I mean by nonstop can be heard in some of the videos I took (which you will hopefully soon see): you cannot even hear them pause to draw breath. After the day was finished the men from the village stayed on to sing, but had to do so in shifts, as there was not enough space in one room to hold them all. After the last of them had departed, the members of the household began their own celebration, in which we were included. This began with individual performances, mostly dance, of which there are some spectacular pictures. Which you may be able to see, if we're lucky. After this everyone gathered to sing songs (accompanied by cymbals and drums, as well as an instrument which can only be described as the result of gross malpractice involving a piano, accordion, and bagpipes) which felt strangely similar to Christmas caroling. This concluded sometime between 1 and 2 a.m.
The next day we departed for Goa, land of foreigners. It's strange, but I find myself staring at white people these days: they look so incredibly out of place. Actually, it's even getting pretty easy to tell the difference between NRI's (Non-Resident Indians) and Indian Indians. Woah.
So we enjoyed some grey beaches (monsoon season strikes again), delicious hotel food, and one cruise- they have these cruises in Goa with discos (light and all), as well as cruise boats with casinos. By the way, most 'hotels' in India don't house people- it's the label they use for restaurants. So there actually is such a thing as delicious hotel food, if only on this continent.
Goa, as you history buffs who may coincidentally have the initials DG will know, is an ex-military ex-Portuguese ex-colony. So Portuguese is widely spoken by natives, and there are some spectacular churches, two of which we visited. The first of these, The Basilica of Bom Jesus, houses St. Francis Xavier, known for converting thousands of Indians to Catholicism. Those interested in more details can read the inscription on the stone outside of the Church, of which there may be a picture posted online. Anyway, about a month after the burial of Francis Xavier, his body was dug back up to be relocated; it was found to be perfectly intact, which was declared a miracle. He was then moved to the church, and the rest, as I am told they say, is history.
We shall call the second church the Chapel of Neglected Name. The thing which separated it the most from other grand churches I have been in cannot be found in its altar, shrines to various saints, or architecture. It is rather the staggering number of sepulchers found beneath the feet of the churchgoers. Goku and I read a few of them, and found that quite a few people died between the 1630's and 1650's.
After our time in Goa we returned to Suhas' home in the country to spend the night before facing that Journey to the West. SIES had reinstated classes for the Sr. college while we were away, and I was actually able to start classes. I mean I was able to start classes on Tuesday. I was unable to retrieve my division and call number until the end of classes on Monday. Anyway, this was last week, and I've now been to school twice: on Wednesday my first three classes were canceled and my second two were superseded by a ROTEX conference. Then the whole school was shut on Thursday for the Ganesh Festival (more to follow). Friday was the day after the Ganesh festival, so I spent the morning helping clean up Juhu beach with other exchange students and the Rotex students of NM college in Ville Parle. We weren't alone: I saw well over a thousand other people on that beach.
Anyway, the plan had been to spend the morning on Saturday hiking in the hills above Yogi Hills in Mulund with Keegan, the student from Canada. Conveniently enough, it rained violently from about 6:30 a.m. to 1:30 p.m., then on and off for another three hours or so. So we instead spent the morning making and eating French toast (Keegan 10 Will 12). After that, we hiked up to some waterfall, after which I returned home thoroughly soaked. In fact, between the beach cleanup, rain, and waterfall hike, my shoes have had a consistency similar to the wetter parts of the Everglades. I went directly from the railway station at Sion to a concert given by Usha Uthup for the benefit of SIES, which went until 10:30, at which point I raced home and collapsed.
“As a blazing fire turns firewood to ashes, O Arjuna, so does the fire of knowledge burn to ashes all reactions to material activities... Therefore the doubts which have arisen in your heart out of ignorance should be slashed by the weapon of knowledge. Armed with yoga, O Bharata, stand and fight.”
-ch. 4, Bhagavad Gita
As those Diligent Readers will recall from the previous installment of MtM, the primary purpose of our pleasant pop in was the celebration of the Ganesh festival with Suhas' family. This was no small affair, given the size of said family; every person in that village was a cousin of some sort to Suhas. Serving lunch took almost two hours, and there were four rooms full of diners I have no idea how many times. Every day we were there they held multiple poojas, which is basically a prayer session. The day of celebration in which the house was visited by the population described above two priests chanted prayers nonstop for five or six hours. What I mean by nonstop can be heard in some of the videos I took (which you will hopefully soon see): you cannot even hear them pause to draw breath. After the day was finished the men from the village stayed on to sing, but had to do so in shifts, as there was not enough space in one room to hold them all. After the last of them had departed, the members of the household began their own celebration, in which we were included. This began with individual performances, mostly dance, of which there are some spectacular pictures. Which you may be able to see, if we're lucky. After this everyone gathered to sing songs (accompanied by cymbals and drums, as well as an instrument which can only be described as the result of gross malpractice involving a piano, accordion, and bagpipes) which felt strangely similar to Christmas caroling. This concluded sometime between 1 and 2 a.m.
The next day we departed for Goa, land of foreigners. It's strange, but I find myself staring at white people these days: they look so incredibly out of place. Actually, it's even getting pretty easy to tell the difference between NRI's (Non-Resident Indians) and Indian Indians. Woah.
So we enjoyed some grey beaches (monsoon season strikes again), delicious hotel food, and one cruise- they have these cruises in Goa with discos (light and all), as well as cruise boats with casinos. By the way, most 'hotels' in India don't house people- it's the label they use for restaurants. So there actually is such a thing as delicious hotel food, if only on this continent.
Goa, as you history buffs who may coincidentally have the initials DG will know, is an ex-military ex-Portuguese ex-colony. So Portuguese is widely spoken by natives, and there are some spectacular churches, two of which we visited. The first of these, The Basilica of Bom Jesus, houses St. Francis Xavier, known for converting thousands of Indians to Catholicism. Those interested in more details can read the inscription on the stone outside of the Church, of which there may be a picture posted online. Anyway, about a month after the burial of Francis Xavier, his body was dug back up to be relocated; it was found to be perfectly intact, which was declared a miracle. He was then moved to the church, and the rest, as I am told they say, is history.
We shall call the second church the Chapel of Neglected Name. The thing which separated it the most from other grand churches I have been in cannot be found in its altar, shrines to various saints, or architecture. It is rather the staggering number of sepulchers found beneath the feet of the churchgoers. Goku and I read a few of them, and found that quite a few people died between the 1630's and 1650's.
After our time in Goa we returned to Suhas' home in the country to spend the night before facing that Journey to the West. SIES had reinstated classes for the Sr. college while we were away, and I was actually able to start classes. I mean I was able to start classes on Tuesday. I was unable to retrieve my division and call number until the end of classes on Monday. Anyway, this was last week, and I've now been to school twice: on Wednesday my first three classes were canceled and my second two were superseded by a ROTEX conference. Then the whole school was shut on Thursday for the Ganesh Festival (more to follow). Friday was the day after the Ganesh festival, so I spent the morning helping clean up Juhu beach with other exchange students and the Rotex students of NM college in Ville Parle. We weren't alone: I saw well over a thousand other people on that beach.
Anyway, the plan had been to spend the morning on Saturday hiking in the hills above Yogi Hills in Mulund with Keegan, the student from Canada. Conveniently enough, it rained violently from about 6:30 a.m. to 1:30 p.m., then on and off for another three hours or so. So we instead spent the morning making and eating French toast (Keegan 10 Will 12). After that, we hiked up to some waterfall, after which I returned home thoroughly soaked. In fact, between the beach cleanup, rain, and waterfall hike, my shoes have had a consistency similar to the wetter parts of the Everglades. I went directly from the railway station at Sion to a concert given by Usha Uthup for the benefit of SIES, which went until 10:30, at which point I raced home and collapsed.
“As a blazing fire turns firewood to ashes, O Arjuna, so does the fire of knowledge burn to ashes all reactions to material activities... Therefore the doubts which have arisen in your heart out of ignorance should be slashed by the weapon of knowledge. Armed with yoga, O Bharata, stand and fight.”
-ch. 4, Bhagavad Gita
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