Tata Trichy~June 26

Things you should know about India 

1. If a teeny tiny gecko is in the shower with you, he's not taking the most adorable gecko shower ever, he's drowning. Shoo him out ASAP. 

2. Learn the names of all the people you come into contact with, and ask questions. Indian names tell you a lot about the person they belong to. 

3. Bring a thin scarf. It ups the modesty level, and you can wipe the sweat that will inevitably be rolling off your body with it. It sounds gross, but after climbing 350 steps of an ancient temple, barefoot, in 85 degrees, I promise you'll get over it. 

4. You will begin to smell like curry, it's okay. Just let it happen. 

5. Adopt the head bobble! You will become 10x more accepted by those around you. 

6. Wear loose pants to see the temples. Your sweaty thighs will rub together in a maxi skirt, and tight pants will be too hot and constricting. 

7. Drink as much water as you can, before and during your trip to India! The trip is pretty hard on your body and dehydration is a big issue. If you're not good about hydrating, you'll feel like death warmed over once you get to India.

8. When the flight attendants ask you if you want spicy food, they're talking about Indian airplane food. In my opinion, it's not that spicy, so say yes, unless you want to eat weird Indian versions of American foods. 

9. Advice from Sarah M. - If you're an African American get straight hair not braids. "You're already different because you're black, you don't need crazy hair too".

10. Seriously bring snacks, and not healthy snacks. You won't be craving fruit snacks, you'll be craving some artificial cheese. 

11. Bring your computer. It makes blogging so much easier. 

12. You don't need to bring a ton of clothes. You can do laundry for free, and you'll be thankful for all the space in your suitcase on the way home. 

13. Don't be afraid to eat new things, but also don't be stupid. Indians love to hand you new foods, but sometimes you know better. Go with your gut. 

14. Travel on the weekends!!! You're in a whole new country for a month, Trichy is wonderful, but a weekend away is a great way to recharge and it's fairly inexpensive. 

15. Bring a little jewelry with you. As Dr. Jones will tell you, don't bring your fancy, important jewelry, but if you don't wear anything the Indians will actually think you're an alien. 

16. Don't be afraid to dress as the Indians do! I rocked some fabulous turquoise leggings and a rainbow scarf while here, and let me tell you, I loved every minute of it. 

17. Haggle in the markets, especially if you're buying more than one thing. The vendors will sometimes come down on the price. But do it politely, in the big scheme of things, what you're buying is two dollars. 

18. Everyone will stare at you. It can be frustrating, but it is also okay. You have to remember that most people have only seen Americans on TV or not at all!

19. Get to know your group! There's a reason Dr. Jones sends us together. Not only is your group a great support system, but if you're lucky like me, they'll also become new friends. 

20. When in doubt, go to the roof. Some days will be difficult, but a trip up to sit on the roof and remind yourself of what a beautiful place you're in, will put everything into perspective.

21. Saris are not meant to be breathed in

We are actually stuck in this pose, but we sure are pretty

Maybe I should just teach yoga?~June 25

As yesterday was my final day birdwatching, I now have three days to pack. I really don't need three days to pack, so instead I've become immensely bored and daydream constantly about French fries and pedicures. As a result, when Sarah M.  returned from the clinic today and I found out she was going back in the afternoon, I jumped at the chance to tag along.

For those of you wondering how I ended up birdwatching on a trip catered to Pre-Meds, I'll tell you. I finally looked at my grades and looked at my strengths, and wouldn't you know, none of them lined up with medicine. When every day of chemistry and cell bio is like poking out your eyes with hot pokers, you should probably do some rethinking. Becoming a doctor is a long and difficult road, if I was going to do it, I needed to passionate about it, and I just wasn't. I knew this after my first semester sophomore year, but sometimes it's hard to change the plan. In any event, I was still worried I had made a mistake. So I walked into the labor room at Janet Nursing Home, prepared to have, yet another, quarter life crisis. As I watched a woman crying in agony for her mother, this crisis alluded me. 

Two definitely very cool people

Sarah walked into the labor room and told me we were in luck. Get your shoes, grab your stuff, we're going to a C section for twins. YES! This is cool. I am cool. Maybe I will have my moment in surgery. As I was tying the surgical mask behind my head, my adrenaline was pumping. I was almost sweating from all the excitement. As we shuffled in behind the doctors and found a place to watch from, I was struck by the sickening smell of antiseptics in the room and acutely aware of how hot I was and how hard it was to breathe through the mask. If you haven't already figured it out, I'm a rather excitable person. So I took a deep breath and relaxed into my toes and prepared to watch them cut the incision into the woman.



Now apparently, in India everyone wants a C section. I don't know much, but I do know that's not exactly the best thing for your body. I will be a kind and generous soul and not include my rant about birthing culture today. This woman was about to have her second C section. As she was having twins, I did not begrudge her this c section, especially after I saw the enormous state of her pregnant belly. The doctor went to make the first cut. I braced myself. I was either going to be disgusted beyond belief or completely relaxed. Turns out I was a little bit of both. As the surgeon began to cut through the layers of skin and muscle, I was both fascinated and a touch disgusted. For the most part, it's just bloody and raw, but when they pull a hole bigger and you hear a pop, as a membrane tears or some blood gushes out, you have your ew moment. When they finally got to the amniotic sacs, a rush of liquid came out as they burst them, suddenly there was a leg, then two legs, then half a baby was being literally tugged out. When I saw the first baby come out and begin to cry, I started to tear up. Watching life come into this world, is actually one of the most beautiful things I have had the privilege to see.

After the first baby, a boy, was out, his sister came next. Both babies were large, especially for twins and within five minutes were harmonizing their cries outside. A power twin team, if I do say so. I stayed behind in the operating room to watch the mother get stitched back up, that's what future doctors are into, right? The anatomy and technical part? After two layers of sutures my fascination waned. I went out to see the babies and was excited all over again. They were absolutely beautiful. I asked Sarah when we'd get to see their mother find out about the babies gender and health. She just shrugged, and said they'd tell her later when she woke up. But....I need to see that moment. The magical moment where everyone finds out mother and babies are alright, and it's a boy and a girl, how cool (!), and they're HUGE babies- you go mama, you rocked at pregnancy. But I wouldn't get to see any of that. This is when I once again, came back to the fact that I am passionate about people and their lives. Where they live, how they live, what they need, what they want, what they hope for. I like to talk and I like to listen and I like to help. I don't know what that means in terms of a career, but at least I know what direction to go in. That direction happens not to include cutting holes in unconscious people. 

Be jealous

After the excitement of the C section we went to visit the naturopathy. I am personally a very big fan of holistic and alternative medicine, so I was excited. We walked into a yoga class and were able to join in. I love yoga and enjoy going to classes in the U.S. As it would turn out, I am still able to stretch well. This would lead to the miracle of miracles that happened next. As I folded over in butterfly pose, a pose in which you touch the soles of your feet to one another, and touched my forehead to my pressed together soles, as I made my way back up I enjoyed the stares of at least seven Indian women with expressions of amazement and annoyance in their eyes. I, for the first time in my life, was THAT girl in yoga class. You know the one that sits in the front row and folds herself like a pretzel. The teacher loves her, you want to be her, but by the end of class you resent her because if you only weighed 90 pounds, had no boobs, and only ate air you're pretty sure you could that too. But today I was the queen of yoga, and in India nonetheless. I left class feeling smug and just a little bit sore. 

Goodbyes aren't real~June 24

But really, I promise we're friends

Today was my last morning visit to Manikandan, we even took a picture to mark the occasion. Needless to say, it is both the worst and best picture possible. I don't think our bond is accurately reflected by his deer in the headlights expression. I promise I have not made up everything, and he is genuinely, really happy to see me every morning. 

Today was the final and 18th day of birdwatching. Now I'm not superstitious (that is a lie, I should be a baseball player), but in Judaism the number 18 is known as chai, which means life. Long story short, it's a very good omen, and I think very much a reflection of what this trip was about. Although, to be honest, I think I'll be breaking out my little kid binoculars and doing some Appalachian birdwatching when I return. Being able to identify all the birds you see is both alarming and satisfying, to only be able to do it on the Indian subcontinent seems like a waste. 

I saw another rose ringed parakeet today. They've become like the extra long, weird hairs that you occasionally find growing out of your cheek, or some other odd place on your face. Clearly they've been there a while, because, come on what is this, two inches long? How have I never seen this? Once you see them, you're now acutely aware of their presence. 

There is still a lone purple heron. I believe this supports my theory that the day I saw three, it was book club day. It would make sense, because, I mean, no one hosts book club twice in a row, who is Stephanie the Purple Heron trying to impress? We get it, you can make a cheese plate and your house is immaculate, but you still can't go twice. 

Sarah came with me in the afternoon to see the birds. I think she got to see everything in one day. There were plenty of interesting birds, a funeral procession, and the whole SBS was there. Saying goodbye to everyone was a little sad. I am, in general, bad with goodbyes, because I don't really believe in them. Being in different places doesn't mean that you'll never see each other again. For this reason, it was more of an until next time. I'll be back for Shiva's wedding soon enough and when the planets align and I get married, there will be a whole cluster of Indian faces at mine. Forever goodbyes are a choice. 

Ruddy Shelducks come in pairs~June 23

I can't say today was the most exciting day. It's the day before the last day, so everything just feels a little sluggish. 

Today's bird is the Ruddy Shelduck. When I first noticed this bird, I was very excited. They have a great, almost copper coloring, and love to float around the wetland in pairs. I always assumed that there were only a pair that inhabited the wetland. Today, however, I was looking at the last site, where the ducks usually hang out, and two Shelducks became ten. Who knew I had a whole flock of Shelducks?

Surprise!
www.vogelwarte.ch

Squad Selfie~June 22

Pre-afternoon birdwatching, Sarah M and I took a trip to Chennai Silks. Turns out Saratha's is like Macy's, and Chennai Silks is like Nordstrom's. I refer to Nordstrom's as Nordys, that is my level of devotion to that establishment, so clearly Chennai Silks was right up my alley. I think the trick with Chennai Silks, is that it's very bright, and very white, and the sari floor is even more glamorous. Upon seeing the bridal saris, I'm thinking marrying an Indian, so I can have an Indian wedding, is not the worst idea I've ever had. I went to senior prom with an Indian, clearly marriage is the next logical step. It is to be noted, that the bridal saris cost about as much as a wedding dress in America, that is how beautiful and bejeweled they are.

 Our actual mission at Chennai Silks was to get an Indian style shirt for Sarah's dad. When we finally found the "ethnic" men's section, it was in a corner next to bejeweled wedding jackets, that's how small the section was. The men here almost exclusively wear Western style clothing, while the women are extremely traditional. 

As a young American woman, having to wear long, modest clothing every day, is becoming a little oppressive after a month. It's easy to think about the women here as oppressed too, when you, the American, are sweating out gallons of sweat and just in general, melting in the Indian sun. It's such an American way of seeing though. You can get trapped in this internal dialogue, that these women should be free to wear shorts and tank tops, and run about no toe rings, and zero responsibility, like us American women. But what if these women like how things are? The men here wear Polos and Levi's, but the women still wear all of their beautiful clothing and jewelry. 

I don't think women in India are so much oppressed, as they enjoy their culture, their version of beauty, and their traditions. If not for these women, where would "India" be. You can build cities, skyscrapers, create clean tap water, and run an impressive no littering campaign, and India will begin to look different and modern, but these women are the reason that India will always be India. If she wants to wear shorts, then she should absolutely, but I am a guest in her culture, not some sort of star spangled savior. I hope that anyone who travels to this extraordinary country will be mindful of that. 

Fabulous

At some point between bending in the wind like a daisy and almost falling over onto a cow, I found out why they call this Wind Monsoon season. To put it into relatable terms, I was half expecting to see the Wicked Witch of the West riding her bike in the wind. That was what I was dealing with today. As I watched the birds crash into each other, as they were tossed by the wind, I realized they were even less amused than I was. 

The cows also seemed to be in a fowl (see what I did there) mood today. One cow was hog tied on the ground, getting reshoed, and he was NOT happy when he got up. Then another cow came running down the road. For the record, the cows don't run, they mosey. This cow, however, was running. She soon rejoined her cow friends at one of our sites, so Shiva made us go to the sites out of order, for fear of being caught up in the cowpocalypse. I asked if I could say hello to my baby cow, but Shiva vetoed that, and I was forced to declare my love out the window as we passed by. I know my baby cow heard me though, our bond is deep. 

From Left: Shiva, me Shyam, DJ, little boy, security guard

The little boy who works at the crematory was back today. It was perfect timing, because Shiva has had a little bag of school supplies and a chocolate bar for him in the car since we first met him. Shiva asked me to give the bag of treats to him, which I thought was ridiculous. Shiva should get the credit for the gifts, right? Shiva refused to give him the bag though, so I gave the little boy the gift. He looked genuinely confused when I handed it to him, but when he realized it was for him, a smile spread across his face. The boys later explained to me, that as a foreigner, I'm "special" to them and it means more for me to give the gift than for Shiva to do so. I thought this was odd, to me, the gift was an incredibly thoughtful gift from someone that the little boy could look up to. In any event, I am continuously moved by how kind and good the people in India are, I think Shiva is well placed in the Social Work Department. 

Welcome to my Wetland

It's a beautiful home for birds

And a daily reminder that humans are ruining the Earth

Magical bird home

Trash invading magical bird home

www.flickr.com

Today's bird is the Rose-Ringed Parakeet. Shyam has been telling me, periodically, for two weeks now, that he's seen one of these birds. When I go to look, there is never a parakeet. Naturally, I assumed Shyam was seeing things. Today I saw the error of my ways when a flash of green came out of a bush and flew up into the air. I pulled out my binoculars and wouldn't you know it, it's a Rose-Ringed Parakeet. In conclusion, it is now public record that Shyam was right.

Parakeet Whisperer

                                 

I'm not lost, just American~June 20 & 21

The three of us decided to celebrate our last weekend in Trichy with a trip to Punbugar, a giant outdoor street market. The wind season has caused the weather to be much cooler so we can actually go out during the day without melting. The one downside of being obviously foreign in India, is that any time you're walking down a street, every rickshaw driver will slow down to ask if you want a ride. I have legs, I can walk, thanks. Apparently, being foreign equals being lost.

We spent most of the day looking for jewelry and gifts for friends. Everything is so cheap compared to the U.S. so you can really shop for days. When buying Indian jewelry however, you have to pay attention to the earring backs. Most will be a screw back, the issue is that the post is the size of a small gauge. How these women fit them in their ears, I could not tell you. Sarah and I have been trying since we accidentally bought a pair, and it's been a really disappointing and sad endeavor. The other Sarah however, got her ears pierced as a baby and she can wear them. It should be noted, that she got her ears pierced in Africa. The ear piercing process here is obviously something I can live without seeing. 

On Sunday, the dreaded moment finally occurred, I saw a monkey. Come to find out there were actually two monkeys, and the one we saw was an adolescent. As much as I dislike monkeys, he had a really cute face. I can almost understand why people enjoy them so much. If I didn't know their adorable monkey faces were just a trap, set in order to bite you and give you all kinds of diseases, I'd probably like them too. 

We had a great last weekend in Trichy, it's odd to think this time next weekend we'll be home.

TGIF ya'll~ June 19

It seems crazy that there's only one week left in Trichy. I think we're all ready to enjoy this last week as much as we can, but I'd be lying if I didn't say I was looking forward to being home. I need a Cook Out tray and the new season of Orange is the New Black in my life. 

As we were leaving the site today, we were stopped at a railroad crossing, as there was a train coming. This happens every so often and I am always amazed as Shiva and Shyam describe the kind of train it is. Today it was a "goods"train that was carrying coal. This identification prompted a five minute discussion about a large company that uses said coal for power. These conversations are so interesting to me because when I see a train in America, my identification is pretty closely aligned with that of a two year old boy's. It goes something like "blue train, fast, whoosh". It's always interesting to see how connected the two boys can be to everything that goes on around them. 

In the afternoon, a new girl, a friend of Shiva's, came with us. She has a very bright and cheerful face, the sort of face a person you'd like to be friends with has. When we stopped for afternoon tea, we have tea twice a day now, I requested "Indian" tea today. After careful observation, I've noticed that this tea shop seems to make uncurdled masala tea, so naturally I was prepared to try again. I was not disappointed. Not only was the tea made well, but it had ginger in it. It was a little firey from the ginger but still sweet, I'd love to learn to make it. 

www.worldwildlifeimages.com

Today's bird is the Purple Heron. I've seen as many as three at once in the wetland, but most of the time there is just one. It's a very elegant bird and I love to watch it walk around in the water. I have a sneaking suspicion their is a nest in a large patch of tall grass behind the water in the wetland, but so far I haven't seen any little herons.

Like Eat, Pray, Love but sadly without Javier Bardem~June 18

Today was a long day for your favorite Americans abroad. I'm sure that my whimsical adventures around Trichy sound adorable and like I'm living the life, which honestly, in some aspects, you're right, but India is difficult sometimes. For the most part, I have a good sense of humor and a general willingness to go with what the world sends my way, but sometimes India can be a little exhausting.  

Some days, the difference in culture is overwhelming and frustrating and you're about one more thing away from chain smoking cigarettes on the roof with the French exchange students. That being said, I would in no way, have had the experience that I've had in India, any other place. I am approaching my senior year of college and all I've felt for the past two years is exhaustion. To be an Honors student and not feel smart enough, motivated enough, or successful enough is defeating. India will teach you a lot of things, but mostly it will teach you to be grateful. 

Traveling has been wonderful and the Indian people are so kind and generous, but it is hard not to realize, suddenly and glaringly, how much, we as Americans, have. College has felt like an eternity of suffering for me, but to have so much independence and the freedom to change my mind as I grow is everything. The number of opportunities we have at our disposal is mind boggling. How is it, that with everything we have, we still manage to feel unsatisfied? If India has taught me one thing, it's that I've always had all the things I needed, I just never appreciated their presence. Pursuing your interests and passions and becoming a successful adult is not difficult, it's a privilege. Carrying ten pounds of water on your head, being seven years old and a major source of income for your family, are both difficult things, education is not. 

If you want to lie in the sun and cuddle cheetahs, go to South Africa, they have a Hard Rock Cafe. But if you want to ask yourself questions you never thought you needed to, if you need a reality check, if you love spicy foods and lots of colors, if you need a refresher in genuine human kindness, come to India. Some days will be difficult, some days you do not want to deal with it, but at the end of the day, you will have spent a month in a beautiful, interesting country and you will be changed for the better. 

Today's bird is the Emily. It likes tiramisu and Cheerwine and nice boys who make breakfast. 

"If you wear a bindi, your face will be more pretty"~June 17

Yesterday marked the first day of Arani Audi or Wind Season. This season is hands down, the best idea India's ever had. It's essentially a period of time, before monsoon season begins, when it is just really windy. It's like a giant fan wherever you walk and I love it. 

Shown: More pretty faces

My favorite frequenter of the wetland road is an old man who walks his Pomeranian every morning. I always smile adoringly at the dog, which is my way of asking if I can pet him/her, so far, the owner just looks at me like I'm an alien, while his little dog pulls on the leash like a toddler wearing a leash backpack. Judging from the immaculate state of the little dog's coat, I wouldn't be surprised if he had his own room. Today, my fascination with the dog and his owner reached a new level. They must have been feeling especially Hindu today because both owner AND dog had long red powder marks down their foreheads. I'd laugh, but my own mother forbids our pets from eating pork products, as pork is not kosher and our dogs are of course, Jewish, like the rest of the family.

Today I wore some traditional style Indian earrings that I picked up in Pondicherry. I'm pretty in love with them. They look like little upside down bowls with beads hanging off of them. My head bobble has become twice as satisfying, as now my earrings jingle with the movement. I'm pretty sure that explains the origin of the head bobble. Shyam and Shiva were very excited about my earrings. Shyam noticed my cartilage piercing as well and asked about it. I told him I had gotten it when I was 18 because I thought I was cool. He was exceedingly pleased with its existence. He told me if I just wore a bindi, I'd have a "more pretty face". Solid advice Shyam. 

birding.in

Today's bird is the Purple Sunbird. This tiny little bird loves to give me whiplash as it races around the grasses. At this point, I can identify the tiny rapid moving blob as a Sunbird, so I don't have to turn in circles with binoculars held up to my face anymore. I do believe this levels me up to a novice birdwatcher. These birds tend to cluster together and chatter at one another in the grasses. It sounds something like a Kindergarten classroom.  

https://Farunachalabirds.blogspot.com

The Purple Sunbird has received the spotlight because this morning I saw a male in full breeding plumage. I noticed this little man because he would not shut up. I mean seriously, it went on forever and ever. I just stared at the little bird waiting for it to stop screeching. It did not. Mind you, at this point I was not aware it was a male trying to holler at some lady birds, I just thought it was the most annoying creature to ever grace this Earth. When I finally found it in the bird guide, I had an overwhelming feeling that everything I knew was a lie. I thought I knew what a Purple Sunbird looked like, but I only knew half the story. When I told you birdwatching could be really deep, I was being serious. 

Green Bee-eater Gang~June 16

Manikandan was extremely happy to see me this morning. Apparently, he had been very concerned with my whereabouts these past few days and was fearful that I had left the country without saying goodbye. I assured him I would never do such a thing and we still had over a week of tea together. I always thought I needed a dog to feel this loved every morning but apparently all I needed was a good barista. 

As I was standing on my mound of dirt in the sea of garbage this morning, I spied two big gray blobs with big fat tails scurrying into the brush. I immediately perked up and reached for my binoculars. Upon viewing them I assumed they were just monkeys and dropped my binoculars in disgust. Monkeys are the worst. I looked over to Shyam nonchalantly and asked if I was current in my identification. He looked over and said "not monkeys, anteaters". ANTEATERS!!! This was the point at which I became a toddler on pixie stixs. I began to howl "Anteaaaaters, nooooo, come baaaaack". Shyam looked genuinely concerned. I am still bitter that I missed them. 

My anguish was soon lessened when Shiva told me that he brought bananas to feed the cows. A day that starts with wet cow noses is my kind of day. The driver of the cow cart was genuinely amused by enthusiasm. For a country in which cows are sacred, I feel like I'm the only one who really appreciates them. 

View page: ibc.lynxeds.com

Today's bird is the Green Bee-eater. In the early days of the blog, I mistakenly thought they Blue-Tailed Bee-eaters. As it would turn out, they have no blue tails, just lots of green. Remember how we talked about birdwatching being kind of a shot in the dark? This is an example of that. Nevertheless, the Bee-eaters were MIA for a while, I was a little distraught because they're some of my favorites. The Bee-eaters, however, have made a reappearance, as in there are four times as many now. 

Where the new hoard of Bee-eaters came from I couldn't tell you. I made this discovery today as I was watching one of the Bee-eaters fly around. Bee-eaters are very playful. They love to fly up quickly and then fall back until they're right at the lily pads, at which point they fly back up suddenly. I saw one such Bee-eater flying around like this, but when it started its ascent, ten more Bee-eaters followed. It was like a volcano of Green Bee-eaters exploded. Shyam and I watched in slack jawed, wide eyed amazement. Just when I think I know these birds, they surprise me. 

Keeping up with the Joneses~June 15

This morning we arrived back in Trichy at 3:30AM. Before going to Pondicherry, I could not get out of Trichy fast enough. I needed to see new things, people and the ocean. As we drove back into Trichy however, I couldn't imagine spending another day away. It was only a weekend but I really missed seeing the SBS, I'm not sure how I'm going to handle leaving them to go back to America. But as Shiva said today "when you come back for my wedding, I'll show you my village" and really truly in a few years that's exactly what I'll be doing.  I don't believe in goodbyes. 

Thankfully, Dr. Relton told the students we'd be taking the morning off, as I wouldn't be getting back until very early in the morning. This meant no 5:30 wake up, which as you can imagine, was blissful. During the day I mostly focused on pulling all my things back together and assessing potential issues with packing all the things I'd bought in Pondicherry. I may or may not have gone a little crazy, but I pride myself on my gift giving abilities and India has been no exception. 

While at the site today I met the boy who actually lights the bodies on fire in the traditional crematory. That's what he is too, a boy. Shiva told me he's 12 years old and that he works instead of going to
school. Of course this turned me into a cooing, horrified American. Shiva said the boy doesn't like school and is happy with his position. It's just very hard to fathom. To look into the face of a 12 year old boy with more courage and maturity than my peers and probably myself was very humbling. I just remember looking at Shiva and saying "but shouldn't he be out playing".

http://leesbirdblog.files.wordpress.com/2010/07/pied-kingfisher2.jpg

Today's bird is the Pied Kingfisher. As you know, we've already addressed the eclectic White-Throated Kingfisher. The Pied Kingfisher is the opposite of the White-Throated Kingfisher in terms of aesthetic and in the case of my wetland in terms of birdy marital bliss. The Pied Kingfisher is an almost checkered pattern of black and white, very classy and clean cut. These birds obviously belong to a country club in Charlotte. Whenever I see one Pied Kingfisher sitting on some grass, I immediately look for the mate. Sometimes it takes a few minutes, he's probably turning in his golf clubs, but sure enough the other Kingfisher will come fluttering over to sit beside its mate. At this moment I always become acutely aware of how incredibly single I am. I'd like to say that a pair of chessboard patterned birds don't make me the teeniest bit bitter, but here we are folks. For obvious reasons, my  pair of Pied Kingfisher are named the Joneses. 

Perusing Pondy~June 13 & 14

The time is approximately 4:00 AM and my feet are planted on the floor of The Richmond hotel in Pondicherry, India. I stand facing a bespectacled man who I have just awoken with my entrance to his hotel. The room is dark and I am tense, as I ask him if it would be possible to check in before 12:00. I see his shadow shift as he begins to shake his head. Suddenly, his face is lit by a warm light. We all turn to look out the door, where a group of three men have constructed and lit a bonfire. In the middle of the street. Right in front of the hotel. The man looks wide eyed at the security guard who returns his gaze. He sits down and begins typing away at the computer. Five minutes later the three of us are laying side to side in a big, fluffy bed. Sometimes life provides better stories than we could ever imagine making up ourselves. 

When we got on the bus to Pondicherry, I can't say we had anticipated what would happen a mere four hours later. In fact, the whole sleeping bus arrangement seemed like a wonderful idea. You sleep on the way there and wake up refreshed and ready to conquer your new lands. First and foremost, the bus is late as a rule. This was not an irritation for us, we had all the time in the world. As we climbed onto the bus we observed Indians of all ages in peaceful deep sleeps. Our bus was not air-conditioned, but as it began to move the breeze was actually preferable. This lovely breeze became more and more rapid as I realized we were driving VERY fast. Oh good gravy, what have we done. At one point I opened my eyes right as the bus made, what must have been close to a ninety degree turn, narrowly missing a tiny dwelling. Clearly this bus ride was an adventure, that being said, seeing the Indian country side at night was a sight I'm glad I saw. I, however, highly recommend the immediate printing and sale of I survived the Indiana Jones Temple of Doom Bus shirts.

Youthful ignorance and coffee after our bedtime

In our minds, we would arrive in Pondicherry and hang out in the bus station until day break when we would begin our adventure. When we rolled up to a dark closed station, this derailed our plans. This is the point in the story where we became real adult travelers. We looked at one another and got a rickshaw to the hotel. We didn't know how it would pan out but the bottom line was that each of us knew we couldn't stay there. The ensuing bonfire was a wildcard but one that worked in our favor.

Waking up from our exhaustion in a tasteful India meets France room, we were all feeling very thankful for our success in getting to Pondicherry. As we walked out onto the Pondicherry street we headed straight for the ocean. The seashore was a much needed reprieve from busy, noisy Trichy. We even saw some fellow foreigners. The day that followed consisted of a massive amount of shopping and the greedy consumption of a big beautiful bowl of pasta.

Day two of Pondicherry was a bit more challenging. We had to check out of the hotel by noon, which meant all of our purchases and bags had to be lugged around with us until our departure at 11:00 that night. We figured this wouldn't be anything more than inconvenient. Turns out the beautiful cobblestoned streets of Pondicherry had recently been smothered in sticky black tar. These smoother streets added a heat to the air we did not imagine was possible. So the three lovely American girls melted their way through the Pondicherry streets.

Bring on the Beast.

Armed with a map and an uncrushable spirit, we criss-crossed the streets of Pondicherry, eating delicious desserts at Baker Street and much to my delight, paying Pondicherry Museum a visit. It was hot and exhausting but as we sat together at dinner that night we were happy and healthy and proud of our ability to adapt. It was a great weekend of adventures and excellent gift shopping. We made friends with a shopkeeper, took a picture with a baby, that was thrust into Sarah's lap, and eventually adopted our mistaken French identities by returning the townspeoples' Bonjour's. When in the France of the East, channel your inner Belle.

Baskins Robins: Wetland Edition~June 12

Thirty-one: the number of birds we've found in the wetland so far. Thirty one, individual species, can be found in an area the size of maybe, the App State football stadium. That's pretty amazing. When we were researching to come to India, I read about the immense biodiversity here but to see it is something entirely different. It's hard to be out at the site every day and not get a little Eco Warrior about the situation. The pollution from the trash stays mainly on the banks of the wetland but what happens when it begins to migrate into the water? The water becomes toxic, the fish die, the plants die, and then the birds may die but ultimately they will leave. It's very difficult to fathom.

The SBS has developed a kind of following. There are a few elderly men that like to walk the road in the evenings and they've begun to birdwatch as well. When we see them we always call them over so we can point some different birds out to them. I see them now point birds out to one another. There are a group of children that like to come see me too as they wonder the road creating toys from the trash. The other day a six piece band marched up to me. Each boy had developed an individual instrument from random pieces of styrofoam and sticks. The very professional manner in which they conducted the band made my heart warm and also sad. These little boys work all day and this is their only play time. They have practically nothing but are still courteous and playful and so curious. They are my favorite people to birdwatch with, their excitement always intensifies my own. 

As I've been filling in the Excel sheet with the numbers from my paper notes, which, for the record is a bigger task than I imagined, I've been trying to decide which bird I'll choose today. I think the Pheasabt-tailed Jacana will be the bird of the day. I've picked this bird primarily because it illustrates an important lesson in amateur birding- sometimes you don't know what the hell bird you're looking at and you just go with one. Have no fear, after a few days you will become older and wiser and, as in my case, doubtful of the identifications others make. You may notice a tiny stripe, a difference in beak color, or, in the case of the Jacana, a patch of gold coloring on the nape of the neck. Birding is, after all, a learning curve. It's been two weeks and I'm already surprisingly good at identification but sometimes you just don't know. Cue my new best book friend: Birds of the Indian Subcontinent. It's a game really, you flip through until something looks like what you're seeing, you read a little about it and then decide whether that's it or it's different. After a while bird watching you'll pick up on the general body shape of different types of birds. You may not know the exact type of finch but you know it's a finch. 

www.pinterest.com

The Pheasant-Tailed Jacana is generally the shape of a giant dove, but with super long legs, so the super model version of a dove. The males currently have long curled tails for the breeding season. We often see pairs of these birds roaming the lily pads. The Purple Moorhens and they tend to have the occasional territory issue but for the most part they coexist peacefully. I got a treat this morning and saw my first baby Jacana. It was a fully brown and black striped little chick that hobbled after its mother, as she searched for food. It's good to know at least one male Jacana didn't grow his tail in vain. 

White-Throated Kingfisher Woes~June 11

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The first bird I saw in the wetland that really impressed me, was the White-Throated Kingfisher. In all honesty, after the initial oo-ah how pretty phase, you realize that the bird is kind of goofy looking. It's almost like one of those playdough sets, where you make the different pieces in the mold and then mash them all together to make some kind of truly ugly creation. Your mom will pretend to like it, but she gave birth to you and has a ten year contract requiring that she think everything you do is awesome. Perhaps their underlying ugliness is why I love the White-Throated (not to be confused with the Pied Kingfisher which we will discuss later) Kingfisher so much. I, as a matter of principle, love ugly things: ugly art, ugly furniture, ugly animals, etc. Ugly things, unlike beautiful things, are interesting.

From what I can tell, the Kingfishers tend to keep to pairs. It's very sweet and I would give a kidney to see some Kingfisher babies. Unlike the Purple Moorhen however, The Kingfishers don't hang out on the water. If they land on something, it is either a stone pillar or a long piece of grass. Lately, I've only been seeing one White-Throated Kingfisher at a time. I'm a little concerned. Do birds get into fights with their significant others? Did Mrs. White-Throated Kingfisher throw a fit and leave Mr. White-Throated Kingfisher to fly around sullenly? Birding is a mostly tame hobby, but there is a certain level of dramatic interpretation possible. When you see the same birds every day, you become a little attached to them and their bird lives. I have a running hunch that the three Purple Herrons that live in the wetland are part of a book club. 

Up to my eyes in Purple Moorhens~June 10

Today I woke up feeling like I had gotten hit by a bus. Fabulous, this is the way I like to start every day. When Shiva arrives at 5:30 AM, I already know that I should just go back to bed. We get to the site and after about two minutes counting birds, I feel pretty certain that I need to go back to bed. Shiva takes me back to the dorm, I sleep for essentially the rest of the morning and awake feeling much, much better. The medicine I'm taking seems to be working well and I'm ready to get back out into the field in the afternoon. On a humorous note, the SBS didn't notice that I wasn't looking well because they can't tell when my skin is pale, to them I'm always pale.

After my near death experience (for those of you prone to hysteria, this is sarcasm, I did not almost die in India), I go back to the field in the afternoon with a renewed interest and appreciation for the birds. It's not that I don't like the birds, I do. They're beautiful, colorful, and sometimes they do silly things, like fly in and out of the lily pads, maybe for food or maybe because it's fun. When you look at the same thing every day though, you forget how beautiful it really is. I feel this way about Boone every time I drive back up through the Parkway. We're constantly forgetting to remember how beautiful the familiar things are. So, now that our main character, yours truly, has had a defining moment in their journey, I think that every day I'll tell you about one of my birds. Yes, they are my birds, every single one.

View page: indianaturewatch.net
This is a picture I took from the internet for your reference.
I'm by no means close enough to the birds to take pictures of my own.

Today we'll discuss the Purple Moorhen, because quite frankly I can't turn my head without seeing one. There are probably more Purple Moorhens than crows, which is saying something because as you'll recall, the site is surrounded in garbage and the crows love themselves some garbage. The Purple Moorhen, from what I've observed, lives in the thickets of grass in the wetland and has been busily building nests since I got here. They are about the size of chickens with brilliant blue and green and purplish (remember our discussion about ornithologists and their definition of purple) feathers. They have short, sharp red beaks that are surrounded in red skin that extends up their heads. They have chicken-like forked feet, but with longer toes, which make them look ridiculous when they half fly, half leap around. The Purple Moorhens' eggs have also started to hatch. If you look closely in the morning, you may see one or two fluffy black chicks hobbling after their mom. They are super cute and I love watching them learn to swim, they run into the floating lily pads a lot. It's like bumper cars but for tiny poultry.

Tonight, as we were sitting in the ice cream parlor with our new French exchange student Alex, Manikandan, whose tea shop is right next door, caught a glimpse of me through the window and waved in greeting. I waved back. He mimed an offer of tea, I mimed a decline of the offer, but finished it off with a head bobble, so it was polite. My Indian sign language is clearly top notch because he head bobbled in return and smiled. He then began calling to all of his friends to come see his American friend. Indians started popping up everywhere and waving to me. I waved back and smiled to all my adoring fans. The crowd finally subsided to the sound of the Sarah's laughing hysterically, Soloman being genuinely amazed at my ability to make friends with anyone, and Alex's jet lagged expression of wonder and slight confusion. Thus, part two of Beyonce being bombarded by Japanese fans came to a close.

New place, new germs~June 9

Today it finally happened. I got sick. I had known this moment was going to come. There was no way I was going to be here for a month and remain unscathed, but I didn't expect to get so sick. The day started off pretty normally. I didn't feel great in the morning but I was able to get through surveying the birds. I showed Shiva and Shyam my driver's license, after one of the girls said the man who drives them to the clinic didn't realize they could drive. I thought this was funny and asked Shiva and Shyam if they realized I could do that. They did but they were fascinated with my driver's license. Their licenses are these little flimsy photocopied papers that have a thin layer of laminate over them. I could just hear them thinking, even the driver's licenses in America are better.

The afternoon bird watching was when I really started to feel awful. Standing out in the heat made my nausea worse and I started to feel faint. To be honest, the birds in general have become uninteresting. For the most part, we can identify everything easily now and there's no real challenge left. I feel like I count Purple Moorhens in my sleep. I am always more interested in the people that use the busy road by the site. Today there was a little girl helping her dad herd their cow home. I can't imagine what it must be like to go find your cow at the end of every day but it was amusing to watch them. The girl was probably around three or four and much better accessorized than me. She was perched on the front of her dad's motorcycle and just sat there perfectly still every time he'd get off to drive the cow forward. Her real contribution however was to shout "hey!" like her dad to get the cow to go forward. She took some artistic license however and her "hey" became "heeeeeey". Shyam turned to me, noticing my absorption in the scene. I smiled guiltily and told him I'd always been a better people watcher than bird watcher.

About ten minutes later I really started feeling the illness. I eventually had to go sit in the car because I felt like I was either going to pass out or throw up. Shyam finished the last few sites we had and we headed back to the college. Shiva and Shyam were both diagnosing me the entire way back, taking my pulse and determining that I had a slight fever. I knew I had some antibiotics that my brilliant doctor had sent with me just in case, but feeling like the hot Indian sun was a perfect temperature was odd. I am the worst sick person that has ever lived. Any sort of illness, is in my mind, a terminal disease. I'm pretty pathetic. As I lay in bed, I was pretty much resolved that this was it, this was how I die, in India with a fever. I became sorry for thing I never intended to be sorry for, tried to decide if I should write notes to my loved ones, it was all just a touch dramatic. I was, however, wrapped in three layers of clothing and two blankets because I was so cold while my face was burning up. Luckily the meds did the trick and broke my fever, but it was a very long and stressful night.