Please stop touching me

If you know me at all you know that I am NOT overly affectionate, not particularly sensitive, and above all else I REALLY HATE being touched, I don’t really hug. I mean I don’t particularly mind hugs, there just not like on the top of my priority list or anything. I don’t just casually touch nor do I care to be touched. Well apparently people in India are touchers…why????????? People here are always touching me, there’s petting me or rubbing my skin. SPOILER ALERT: contrary to popular belief I am black and no, the color doesn’t rub off. So you can imagine the look on my face as I’m walking through the zoo and someone starts rubbing my head or stroking my arm. I mean do I look like I need to be rubbed???? I couldn’t possibly.

                                                                A lady petting me.

                                                    The crowd that gathered to pet me.

The zoo turned out to be quite disappointing. The animals were behind 3 and 4 fences therefore I couldn’t get a good picture. We however did turn into a side show again, this time it was kind of our own fault. We really wanted to see the hippos but they were chilling hard in the water so we started making all these awful high pitched noises and told people that was a hippo call…we thought it was funny….they thought we were idiots. Even though the zoo was a little disappointing that’s ok, because I kind of live in the middle of the zoo. On our way back to the school from the zoo we saw about 16 cows, 1 donkey, 7 goats, 3 horses, and when we got back to the school there were 12 monkeys…in our backyard…so…that’s my life. Speaking of cows, while I love India I need to be back in a country where cows understand their place: steak.  Now some of you may say that’s culturally insensitive and I should know better, but you trying being held up in traffic because a cow is just chilling in the road…eating some hay and looking around like he has not one care in world.

Things I’ve learned thus far in India: don’t let other people document events you find important. For example, Phoebe and I went halves on a new cricket set for the boys, well it was a surprise for them so last night all of us (Rumi, Mélanie, Phoebe, and myself) and Mr. Jaysh (the man pretty much taking care of us) went to the boys hostel and Mr. Jaysh explained we had a surprise for them! Well it was super exciting to see how their faces lit up when we pulled out the new equipment, they were so stoked! Well I was pretty stoked to see the pictures I asked our dear Puerto Rican friend to take, this is what they look like:

SPOILER ALERT: this picture sucks. There went that moment.

Speaking of my precious baby angels (sorry GRP’ers), all of the interns got a little dressed up the other night because we were going to have dinner with a friends family, so we put on our best clothes, and even put on some make-up. Well the boys were so surprised that I could manage to not look gross that I was receiving compliments up and down and naturally it turned into an event for pictures, they told me they needed to remember that I could look nice…things that are socially unacceptable: THAT.

                                    YAY! Leigh can manage to not look disgusting! SWEET!

and to continue on that thought, in addition to being the translator here I have also become the police of deeming what is and is not socially acceptable. Which is EXTREMELY funny, because I rarely fall into line with what is socially acceptable.  I’m having to constantly tell people I’m with, “you can’t do that” or “you can’t say that”. For example, taking a picture of the police while he’s scolding someone who just ran over his foot: SOCIALLY UNACCEPTABLE or speaking loudly about two guys holding hands who are literally right beside you: SOCIALLY UNACCEPTABLE. If you don’t understand being gay that’s fine I will explain it later, but really talking about anyone doing anything that you don’t understand or disapprove of when they are actually right beside you is…you guessed it: SOCIALLY UNACCEPTABLE

Well, half of my toe nail is missing…In the hostel, there’s a little ledge and I was running to get to my cellphone because it was ringing (thanks mom) and I hopped the little ledge and one foot cleared it…the other wasn’t so lucky. So my toe nail cracked about half way down the nail and it hurt like the pain of a thousand red ant bites. Well this situation brought my mind back to a conversation I was having with my doctor back in the states before I left. The conversation went like this:

Doctor: Leigh I see you’ve never had a tetanus shot?

Leigh: You’re correct.
Doctor: Well you should probably get one now, before you go to India.

Leigh: I’m good, but thank you.

Doctor: Well why not?

Leigh: Because I know that getting a tetanus shot is a choice.

Doctor: Ok…and?

Leigh: And I am choosing NOT to get one. Really thanks though.

When my toe falls off because it gets super infected, I’ll remember that choice and the pure sass I gave the doctor. Ehh…win some, lose some.

I GOT TO SLEEP IN A ROOM WITH AN AIR CONDITIONER! Ok so imagine you’ve been living on the sun, then all of a sudden you got to live in Alaska…in November. Imagine how happy you’d be! Then multiply that happiness by 16. That’s how happy I was! I had to use a blanket! I never thought I would need a blanket again. Our friend let us sleep at her house and her family fixed us the best meal we’ve ever had in India and it was a beautiful and blessed experience. Here’s the family that made my entire weekend:

Well as you may know I’m from the south, where it’s customary to bring a dish to dinner or to take turns buying and cooking. Well that’s not the case in India, the family invited us all to come back over for dinner next weekend so I excitedly asked “What can I bring” I was met with confused stares. So I asked again, “what can I bring to dinner next weekend” I was promptly and politely told I could and would bring nothing and if I did it would not be accepted. So then I was confused. Indian culture demands that guests be treated like family and apparently family doesn’t help by brining a covered dish. Also family doesn’t say ma’am and sir, I told them that was one thing I couldn’t help.

O and I may be teaching Gujarati studies today…

Love and Social acceptability,

Leigh