NOW ADRIFT

A catamaran is a sailing vessel with two hulls. The word catamaran, incidentally, comes from the Tamil word kattumaram meaning “tied wood.” Although originally the double-hulled design was met with much skepticism because it was based on geometry rather than physics, the concept is now widely used due to its speed, stability and ability to carry large loads.

BIRTHDAY CELEBRATIONS

As I mentioned in an earlier blog, Charlie celebrated her birthday here in India. Around the same time, we had the pleasure of joining two other birthday celebrations: Sunil and Patient Zero’s. Each birthday celebration was different and highlighted variances in how people celebrate birthdays in various parts of the world.

EASTER EGGS

Easter Sunday was the source of many fond memories for me. I was too young to fully grasp the real reason my family celebrated Easter, but not too young to enjoy some family traditions. Easter Sunday meant sitting on my grandparent’s couch while my grandfather read the cousins Prince Bertram the Bad or Sir Kevin of Devon while the aunts and uncles hid brightly colored eggs around the yard. (If I had any say we would read Prince Bertram the Bad every time. I felt some sort of deep-seated connection to Prince Bertram. I felt he was so misunderstood. We were kindred spirits, I was sure of it. But I digress. That is another story for another day…) When I was a bit older and had some measure of fashion awareness (although, after a cursory glance at me, some might argue that I have never gained fashion awareness), Easter Sunday meant we could wear white shoes and our new dresses.

TO MY FITCH HOSTEL THANGACHIS: YOUR DAY

Every year the residents of Fitch Hostel host what they call “Hostel Day.” There are a number of hostels on the CMC college campus, but the Fitch Hostel residents have a special place in my heart. They are the young ladies of CMC who are studying to become physios and occupational therapists. Over the past three months I have had the pleasure, nay, the honor of working alongside many of the beautiful women of Fitch Hostel.

PONDICHERRY: BEING THERE

Unlike other trips we had been on, this trip was planned without agenda. Our goal was to relax and enjoy. We had things in mind that we wanted to see: Paradise beach, the French Quarter, and maybe a little shopping, but our main goal was to enjoy a calm weekend with friends. Which is exactly what we did…

PONDICHERRY: STAYING THERE

Our first order of business upon arriving in Pondicherry was to locate our accommodations and freshen up before setting out to see the city. After negotiating a fair price, we clambered into an auto and headed off to the French Quarter. Our hotel, Les Hibiscus, was simple yet elegant and exactly what we had hoped to escape to. At first the proprietor tried to tell us that there were no vacancies at the hotel, even after we told him who we were and that we had confirmed reservations. He soon pulled out his booking records in effort to prove to us that he had no room, which in turn, allowed us to point out our names in his book as the two who had filled his vacancies. Once confirmed, we were warmly welcomed and led through the lounge, out the side door, up a tight spiral stairway and eventually to our respective rooms.

PONDICHERRY: GETTING THERE

They say that "getting there" is often the best part of the journey, or that "it's not about the destination but the journey." I'm not sure if "getting there" was really the best part of the journey for us, but it was the most entertaining. It was the "getting there" that gave me yet another reason to love this country. Where else can one have such strange and entertaining experiences on a bus?

CATHETERIZING CUCUMBERS

After a small victory with designing a low cost sock aid, some of the PMR doctors asked me to help design some adaptive equipment to increase independence in bowel and bladder management for their tetraplegia patients. Right. “What have I gotten myself into?” was the first thought that ran through my head. I like a good challenge, especially one that promises increased independence for my patients. I was ready to tackle the project.

PASSING THE TORCH

As I journey through life, I’ve met many people who I’d like to emulate in some way. I don’t have the time to write about everyone, nor do you have the energy to read about everyone, but I’ll highlight some as examples. Naturally, some of these people are my family members; the people I grew up with, seeing their lives and how they handled the situations of daily life. For instance, my dad: calm and collected even when the waters rush over his head, firmly anchored in the Truth of his Savior. My mom: not always calm and collected, but had a heart for her Savior that drove her to live for Him with abandon. My grandfather: frumpy and disheveled on the outside but tender and brilliant on the inside, with a hidden sense of humor to boot! Some of the people I’ve only met in person once or twice. For instance, Dr. Margaret Brand: who ended her life’s biography with “All I have need of Thy hand has provided, Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord unto me.” And Dr. Suranjan Bhattacharji: years of selfless service culminating with a charge to the next generation to seek those who need help and go light the world. This post is about his retirement from CMC.

MYSORE: THE HILLS

One of the recommended tourist attractions in Mysore is Chamundi Hills. From the top of the hill, you stand to gain a great perspective of Mysore and the surrounding landscape. The prime real estate at the top of the hill is also home to a Hindu temple. We made our way to the top for the views and the intrigue of a unique descent. We had heard that there were one thousand steps that lead from the bottom of the hill to the top, and decided that we would see if we could find our way off the mount via the steps.

MYSORE: THE SPICE MARKET

Much like the other open air markets I’ve been in here, the Mysore spice market is chock full of colorful life. I can’t exactly say I stumbled upon mass quantities of spices, but there seemed to be mass quantities of everything else consequently I didn’t notice the missing spices. It was in this market that I started noticing the unique textures of life in the market space.

A PERFECT WEEKEND... FOR A TOURIST

My original plan when arranging my posting at CMC was to lay aside time at the end for recreational travel. I had not intended to do much traveling on the weekends during my posting as I wasn’t sure how feasible that would be. After arriving here and slipping into the routine of life as an international student, I realized that there was opportunity for weekend travel if I so desired. At the beginning, I took the first few weekends to settle in my new home or to travel close by (Chennai) to visit friends for the day. I adopted the CMC work schedule by working half days on Saturday, not because I had to (it is optional for international students) but because I really enjoy working here. That being said, I was dragged (almost kicking and screaming) to Mysore the second weekend of the month.

RIDING RAILS

Saturday, February 23, 6:00pm: Charlie and I arrive at Jewel’s house for dinner. Jewel is an occupational therapist from the same batch as Neeraj and Alok. She is posted in neuro for her bond period at CMC. Shortly after moving to Mrs. George’s house we found out that Jewel was pretty much our neighbor. Since then we have used her as a reference point when people ask us where we live… “Do you know where Jewel lives? Well, we are further down that road and to the right.” She and Anumeha, a physio student, invited us to dinner on Saturday. The food was incredible and the fellowship was wonderful. Meha’s friend, Jerry, joined us halfway through the evening to add a small male perspective to our conversations. I had come to dinner packed and ready to head off to the All Indian Occupational Therapy Association national conference in Trivandrum, Kerala. My train was scheduled to depart Katpadi station (Vellore) at 9:30pm. Although not my preference, I ate and ran.

MELA

(Written on Sunday, February 24th)

The pace of life here in India is slower, but somehow that doesn’t translate into more free time for me to relax or keep up with my blog. Seems as though I am about a week behind on things. I’m going to try to do some catch up this week as I am not at CMC doing my typical routine. This morning I arrived in Trivandrum, Kerala, for the All India Occupational Therapy Association conference. More on this later, first I need to cover the events of last weekend and the past week.

AN INDIAN WEDDING

Last week Charlie and I made our first public saree debut. It was epic. Not just because we were two white girls in sarees, but because of the event surrounding the reason for donning sarees. The occasion was an Indian wedding. Somehow we managed to snag an invitation to the reception and wedding ceremony of one of the physios who currently works at the CMC Rehabilitation Institute. We had purchased sarees with the hope that we would be able to wear them at a wedding here. Cultural (diving in), ya know? And to a wedding dressed in sarees we went!

TO NEW HEIGHTS

Charlie and I had originally intended to go to Pondicherry this past weekend, but with our lackadaisical approach to weekend travel we found ourselves without accommodations. Lesson learned: do a little planning next time! Instead of exploring Pondi, we decided to explore our own backyard from a different perspective. We climbed College Hill.

College Hill is a small hill on CMC property that offers lovely views of the surrounding landscape. Alok, being an avid trekker, agreed to take a few of us to the top of the hill for breakfast on Sunday morning. I wanted to see the sunrise from the peak. ‘Twas a little selfish of me, but I think most would agree that trekking in the cool morning air is far better than catching a few more zzz’s and trekking in the muggy hot temperatures.

SO SAREE

My initial thoughts about purchasing a saree could be described as “nonchalant,” or “disinterested.” After all, I only plan on being in India for a short time and I would probably never have occasion to wear one anywhere but here. The sensible and practical girl in me thought better than to spend money on an item I would probably wear once. I’m not sure where that sensible and practical girl went, because last week this girl purchased not one, but two sarees. Yes, that’s right. I really don’t care if I will ever wear them outside the borders of this fair country, I will have the memories made while wearing them here. Besides, I could possibly use the material for something meaningful once I’m back in my motherland.