GUESS WHAT??? SCHOOL'S STARTING!!!!!!!

If you haven't heard yet, tommorow's the first day of school!!!

ARE YOU EXCITED????

I'm not.

I've always been thrilled when the first day of school rolls around. But this year, not so much.

I guess I look forward to meeting new people and such, but I don't feel the enthusiasm that everyone else seems to. Maybe there's something wrong with me. I dunno.

I don't even know what I'm going to wear.

*GASP*

Oh, shut up.

Anyways, I have to finish reading that book...

Whoops.

Bye, then.

Nicknames

I’ve noticed that my mother’s old friends have very interesting names: Rufus, Bubbles, Talkative, Fatima, Edward, Rosie, Merlin, Dallas (or Dallu), and of course, my grandparents’ names: Yulette and Roland, or Tutu and Roly. I guess some are nicknames (nobody here would even think of naming their child Bubbles). This has inspired me to think of some nicknames myself. I’ve only had a few nicknames in my life, and none of them lasted very long: Kriskris (by my brother when he was little), Kristie, the Good Witch Loch Ness Princess of Inverness or something like that (please don’t ask where it came from), FabTab (yes, I remember that), ummmm… oh yeah, Lobes. Nothing spectacular. But nobody ever called me Kristy or Krista or Kris. When I was younger I was a little disappointed by that.

Anyways, I’d like to make up nicknames for anyone who reads this (not that anyone does). So let me know, and I’ll give you a nickname that I promise I’ll use for as long as I can remember to. And if you have any suggestions for someone else, that’s good, too.

India.

Okay, so while I was in India I was really bored and I had a laptop and a lot of free time so I wrote a lot about India. You don't have to read it, but I thought you would think it was interesting to know how different some places in the world are from here.

So...here it is:

6-24-09

Hey, guys. I realize that its yesterday and you must be sleeping right now. Weird. It’s so humid here, I don’t even know what’s sweat and what’s water vapor. I don’t think I can write in paragraphs, so I think I’ll write a list of what’s happenin’ with me in India. I think I qualify to write about India for all these Americans because, though I my heritage is Indian, I am culturally very much American and I don’t really know much about India.

1. Soooo freaking many people. And they’re all outside, all the time, whether it’s sitting on the street or standing in their veranda and staring at the people below for no apparent reason. But at the same time, there’s a sense of community and an “everybody knows everybody” feeling. And every time we walk down the street, we meet someone that knows my mom. I guess it just seems like a lotta people because they’re all squashed into a tiny space and you can see everyone from outside.
2. Everyone drives recklessly and everyone walks in the middle of the street. And I’ve seen exactly one policeman who was standing around, eating something. Also, in America, people generally care when someone honks and usually it is something worth swearing about. If someone swore every time a car honks here, I’m telling you, babies’ first words would be obscene. You see, every time a driver feels it is too quiet, sees too many cars on the road, or a person walking right in front of it, they honk, and like I said before, everyone walks in the middle of the street and there are quite a few cars and auto rickshaws (a kind of tiny taxi with no doors or seatbelts, which reminds me: no one wears seatbelts. And again, the police don’t seem to care.) I’ve seen exactly one stoplight, and either it wasn’t working or no one really noticed it was there.
3. Everything is dirty. There are no carpets or rugs because of this, and I really want to take a shower like four times a day.
4. They have cool looking brooms made out of bamboo or something exotic.
5. I have seen several men wearing skirts. Or to be specific, sheets. Yes, in India, men do not have an insane urge to be so masculine. I’ve seen several young fellows with their arm wrapped casually on the shoulders of their friends. I think, in general, people are more comfortable and touchy with each other than people in the U.S.
6. Everyone wears flip-flops. I guess it makes sense though, with all the rain and dirtiness and stuff. Except for my one relative (my dad’s second cousins son, I think?). He and his brother are too cool for that and they wear skater shoes. He’s really nice though and has this swell British accent.
7. Since everyone sits outside, it’s hard to tell who’s homeless and who’s not. I mean, there’re the really obvious ones who are in rags sleeping on the side of the road, but there are also a bunch of men that sit on the sidewalk, not really doing anything, just kind of hanging out. Sometimes these people are dressed okay, so I know they’re not homeless, but every so often there is the old man dressed in a sheet, and that’s kind of hard to tell because some of them talk to clearly non-homeless people. I guess maybe they could be poor and live in a shack, but they’re not homeless.
8. I saw some interesting things today: a chicken getting its head cut off, while its brothers and sisters screamed in a pen underneath it, a naked child standing around outside, and an old, gay Indian guy who happened to be a very good friend of my parents.
9. Everybody is Indian. That musta sounded dumb, (Well, duh, Kristen, you’re in INDIA.) but out of the thousands of people I’ve seen standing around on the streets, I’ve seen about two non-Indians. I guess I’m used to America where there are people of every race, but even in Europe you see a few black people or Asians. And another dumb thing is, I feel really out of place here. Everybody on the roads stares at me, and I guess it could be because I would have been at school had I lived here, but the same thing happened when we were walking around in the evening, when all the kids were out of school. It can’t be my clothes: I’m wearing flip-flops (which, as I said, are the necessary footwear) and there are a bunch of people that wear the same kind of clothes as me. And I don’t talk loudly so they can’t hear my accent. Maybe they have special foreigner radar built in to them. It could be my skin color, though. Still, I would have lived here if my parents hadn’t moved to the U.S. so I dunno.
10. Whenever I tell people that I’m Indian and I’m Christian, they look at me funny, like I converted or something, but there are so many Catholics here. It’s probably because we’re in Bombay, and other cities wouldn’t have so many, but everywhere we go I see little signs on people’s doors saying, “God bless this house” with a little picture of a cross, and there are a bunch of statues of Mary and a gazillion churches. I haven’t seen one temple or anything. There are also a lot of Catholic schools, but I think even some non-Christians go to those.
11. There are so many animals on the road, and they’re not afraid to go near humans by any means. Cats (I saw the cutest little kitten), dogs, crows, cows, cockroaches, and millions of flies that sit on all the food that people buy and eat. There is no piece of food in this city that has not been sat on by an insect at one point in time.
12. I want to sit on one of the cows.
13. There are a lot of garbage men, but it you wouldn’t think that if you saw all the garbage on the streets.
14. I keep saying everything and everyone and no one and nobody. That reminds me of a very good quote (you’re going to love this): “Only a Sith speaks in absolutes.” (or something like that) –Jedi Master Obi Wan Kenobi. Anakin is going to the DARK SIDE!!!
15. Sorry. I really felt the need to say that.
16. You might be wondering when I’m getting the time to type all this. (I’m sure you’re not, but that sentence sounded good, so whatever.) It’s because I AM BORED OUT OF MY MIND! (Not surprisingly.) It’s currently like nap time. Why would you need a nap time??? And I guess it’s the official nap time because apparently, all the stores are closed. I have done nothing here but sleep. Yeah, the hot weather makes you extremely tired, but SO WHAT? Why did we even bother coming here when there’s nothing to do? And the people that we’re visiting are all OLD. They’re ancient! I had no idea that my mother had SO MANY senior friends. I mean I know she likes old people, but I didn’t know that even in her younger days, she was best buds with all kinds of old fogies. Whatever. The point is, I have nothing to do, so you should feel sorry for me. If you want to feel really sorry for me, realize that I have no internet or TV or cell phone or friends here. Maybe I will have gotten onto the Internet to post this. (I have a laptop but no internet.) I am determined to find someplace where I can. I am suffering serious facebook withdrawal.
17. Now I feel slightly bad for saying that. There are all these poor people on the streets who have probably never seen a computer in their life, and here I am complaining about not having one for a few days.
18. That’s it for now.

6-25-09 Stuff I’ve noticed

I saw a Chinese guy today. And a black guy on a motorcycle. I think the people who sit on the road by the house (actually, there aren’t any houses, just apartment kind of things. I guess they’re condos because people own them, but whatever. I have only seen one real house, but many villages of little huts made out of junk.)

Okay, so you know that guy who came to our school who had miniscule legs, so he had those prosthetic legs and he ran like a gorilla? And you know how everybody was like “Awwww…I feel so bad for him.” Well, I saw a guy like that yesterday, only he had the same condition with his hands and he was standing on a busy part of the sidewalk where people were selling clothes but he didn’t have those things that were like stilts or prosthetic legs that the other guy we saw has, so he was about a foot tall and everybody just ignored him. I’ve also seen a guy without fingers and a guy without a forearm and other random homeless people missing various body parts.

Clothes are SO CHEAP here. I went into this mall kind of place which by their standards is considered fancy and expensive, maybe like what Hollister or Abercrombie would be in the U.S. They actually check your bags when you come in. I looked at a men’s shirt that was on display. According to my mom’s currency conversion rate, the shirt would have been about fifteen dollars. And it was one of the more expensive things in the store. When is the last time you bought a nice shirt (not a t-shirt) at Abercrombie for fifteen dollars? It was actually pretty funny because all of the clothes they were selling on the street were what we wore a few years ago. I think they sell the extra clothes from the place where they manufacture them for the U.S. Actually, everything here is cheaper: food, appliances, whatever. That’s what I think anyway.

It’s strange. Even though my mom lived here like twenty years ago, every time we go out, she meets at least one person who she knows. And they recognize her and everything. Usually, they’re ancient, so I guess she knew all the old people when she lived here, and the old people are still here, but older.

This morning I went out and I realized how much people spit. Everywhere there is spit flying into the air. Within 30 seconds I counted seven people spitting, and I was walking pretty slow. Even rickshaw drivers lean out of the non-existent doors to spit. Another strange habit of all the people that sit on the road is drinking these little cups of brown liquid. It looks like coffee or tea, but why would they drink it from cups that look like shot glasses? I don’t want to ask.

I’ve noticed that everything here is rundown and old-looking. Every building, whether it’s someone’s apartment, a store, a school, or a church looks like it’s about to collapse. Yeah, I guess there are a few newer apartment buildings, but I think that those are really expensive, because we’ve been to many people’s houses, and even the ones that are not exactly rich, but doing well, live in a crumbly, old building. There are a few restaurants that are nice-looking and actually have doors, and even… air conditioning. I’ve only been in one, and that was a Baskin Robbins. There’s also a Domino’s down the street, and they deliver pizzas by motorcycles with locked metal boxes on the back because I guess cars would take to long since they’re too big to drive everywhere. (That’s what people do. Sometimes people drive in the middle of the road or the wrong side of the street.)

I wish I knew someone here. I feel so lonely.

6/26/09- Little kids, more mysterious brown liquid, and a famous lady

Sometimes I see young kids standing around and I immediately wonder why they aren’t at school. I keep forgetting that many kids around here don’t go to school. It’s actually kind of hard to tell the very poor people from the middle class. Everybody generally wears the same clothes and looks the same. Only the beggar people with missing limbs wear rags.

Today we went into the train station and I took a picture and some lady got mad at me. I’m sure none of you really care, but whatever.

I saw a small boy, around eight or nine drinking some of that brown liquid in a tiny glass. That makes it even more mysterious to me because I haven’t seen many children drink coffee before, and I don’t think he would be so blatant about it if it were alcohol.

Woah, I just realized that I can see this famous Indian movie star lady’s condo from here. At least I think that’s where she lives. And if it is, I’m sure that the big balcony on top is hers, so if she were to go outside, I could see her from this window right here. I think she just got married, though, (to some famous actor guy I think, and I know this because the newspapers are filled with celebrity gossip shiz) so she probably lives with her husband. But maybe they live here. It wouldn’t really matter to me, except I actually know who she is because she was in the remake of The Pink Panther 2 and I saw her on a commercial yesterday for hair dye. I think I’ll stare out the window for a few seconds. Nope. She’s not there. Oh well. Hey! I found out that a famous cricket player lives there, too. He has his own restaurant and everything.But I don’t really care about cricket.

Later

Many people seem to be singing to themselves here. Especially security guards, and there are a lot of them that stand outside stores.

6/27/09- Religion

All the people here are so religious. They all go to church once a week or go to some temple thing, I guess if they’re non-Christian. Every apartment complex has a little statue or shrine kind of thing to some saint or god. I think that’s interesting. I mean if you weren’t that religion and you lived there, would you really want it to be outside your house every day?

We went past some slums yesterday and saw all the children outside. There were a bunch of fully naked children, and they weren’t even babies. But the women wore saris (some kind of traditional dress) that looked just like anyone else’s. I mean if they weren’t there, I (being a foreigner) would never know that they were that poor.

People don’t stare at me as much anymore. I think they’re used to seeing me now. And places we’ve gone besides Bandra (the part of Bombay where we’re staying) have more people that look like they’re not from there (more meaning I’ve seen about three at a time).

6.28.09- More famous people

We were passing by this actor guy’s house today and there was a huge crowd of people outside the gate yelling his name (and it wasn’t screaming young girls! It was some old men who probably had nothing better to do) so anyways, my mom told me that that guy went to my dad’s school and in her words, “took his schoolbooks”. I take that to mean that my dad tried to beat him up. I should ask him about that. He loves to tell me about how he supposedly got into fights and won with other kids when he was in school.

6/29/09- Short people, funny smells, and Michael Jackson

Heeheehee…I discovered that there are a LOT of short people here in Bandra. And sometimes, I feel tall. It’s a strange feeling.

So yesterday I found out that the movie Slumdog Millionaire was shot close by here, and that they used actual people who lived there to act. I just thought that was kind of interesting.

There are so many smells that I think my nose has gone numb. There’s food smells, exhaust pipe smells from the cars and autorickshaws and the crappy smell that makes you feel like the air is full of garbage (which it probably is, I wouldn’t be surprised).

Oh yeah! I forgot to share my thoughts on Michael Jackson. He may have been a terrible person, or maybe a great one personality-wise and niceness-wise, but I wouldn’t know, and honestly, that’s none of my business (although everyone else seems to think it’s theirs). But I think Michael Jackson was a great person because of the respect and fame he got despite his strangeness. Although some people made fun of him, (and I can totally see why) I don’t think there will never be another singer that will get the same respect for their music and artistry even though they are extremely flamboyant and do the kind of ridiculous things (gross-looking plastic surgery, etc.) that he did. They may end up being famous, but only because they are taken as weirdos trying to be funny. And Michael Jackson, in my opinion, earned that respect because he cared about stuff, or at least he pretended to. He didn’t try to look like a freak because he wanted people to laugh at him. It was just what he wanted to do, and he did it seriously. Not that I’m opposed to people trying to be funny. Okay. That’s it. I’m done. It’s too bad he died. May he rest in peace.

7/3/09

猛暑の候、

According to Microsoft Word, that is a greeting for July in Japanese. If anyone knows what it means please let me know. I mean Word could be lying and it could be a horrible swear word that they just put in there for unsuspecting English-speakers.
It’s almost the fourth of July, one of my favorite holidays, and no one even knows what it is here. That makes me sad. I miss all the carnivals and the Ferris wheel and the fireworks and the hot dogs and the ice cream. I think I’ll be able to use the internet today. Yippee. Sigh. I feel depressed. At least today we’re going to some cousins’ house. They all have exciting British accents and are much more I dunno… “hip”? Whatever. It should be better than sitting here with all these old people.

6/4/09

I’ve had my first hot shower in sooo long. (The hot water in our shower is conveniently broken.) We went to the beach (which was filthy, of course) but it was pretty fun.

6/6/09

I’ve finally seen the actual city of Mumbai, and it’s not that great. It’s just like here, only the buildings are higher and there are a few more people. And everybody stops when the light turns red.

The people are so rude. Everyone we meet that hasn’t seen my mom in fourteen years looks at her and says, “You’ve gotten fat!” or something similar. I’m not denying it, but they could be a little politer, no matter how fat she is. They haven’t seen me before so they can’t really tell me that I’ve gotten fat. Although one lady told me I was “just right”. Um… okay.

There are so many exciting mustaches here. I’ve seen people with the craziest facial hair. And they don’t seem to be out of place. I was staring at a guy with a long handlebar (which curved up at the ends) and nobody else seemed to even notice it.

Darn! I just realized that I forgot to sing “I’m on a Boat” when I went on a boat today. Oh well.

6/7/09

Okay, so you know that game people play during long car trips where you get ten points when you spot a limousine? Well, I’ve been playing that game, except instead of limousines, there are white people. Actually, Asians (obviously not Indians, though) are five points, Europeans are six points, Africans are seven points and Americans are ten points. So far I’ve got like fifteen points. Is doing this cruel? I don’t think so. I’m merely pointing out that there are very few white people here.

I think that I have become less racist to Indians. It sounds stupid since I am one, but I’ve always

6/12/09- Camping with a crazy old priest who likes to drink

I’ve just been “camping” with a priest, a Hungarian, and a doctor lady. It was pretty interesting. It wasn’t really camping. In fact, I thought it was a lot more comfortable in the little cottage we were at than the place we’ve been staying in. I mean we had to sleep on the ground, but we have to here, too because there’s only two beds. And it wasn’t really the wilderness, but we were on a mountain and there were a bunch of trees. Still, all night we could hear the truck horns on the highway (most of them being little songs that my mom thought a band was playing).

See, the priest is an old friend of my mom’s because he took her on these kind of trips when she was little and even when she was not so little. And she asked him to take us on one of these trips. So we went with him on this retreat he was having for a group of twenty-year-olds but they stayed somewhere else and we stayed with the priest guy and the two other people. It was nice being out of the city. And the priest guy was pretty amusing. Unlike most other priests he liked singing very loudly constantly, drinking (every five minutes he’d say, “Where’s the beer?”), and trekking through mountains and small waterfalls. It was also nice being away from my grandparents for a little while. They were getting a wee bit annoying.

7/17/09- Kreepers

I’ve met so many creepers here in India. There was the guy who was singing softly to himself while walking directly behind me, the security guard who has staring contests with me (He always wins. Actually, now he seems to have changed jobs and works at a café down the road.) and the sad kind the little boy outside the KFC who followed me and tapped me and brought his hand to his mouth, asking for food with hand motions. Most of the stuff is sad creepy. Like why don’t those guys standing around staring at me on the road have a job? And of course the little boy. I’ve seen so many beggars, (my favorite being the cross-dressing men who stick their hand into your car and almost demand money) but the children are the ones who make me the saddest. And there are so many.

7/10/09- What is so different?

I was talking to someone yesterday, and I told them that India is really different, like unexpectedly different. Naturally, they asked how. And stupidly, I didn’t know what to say. It’s hard to explain, really. It’s just a feeling that you get from the whole country. But I think I know why:

1. The contrast between poverty and wealth- outside or across the street from fancy expensive places like the Taj hotel (where Hillary Clinton is staying right now), there’re beggars and children selling crappy stuff.

2. People behave differently around each other. There’s a whole different etiquette. Not more or less polite, just different.

3. There are so many people, and things, and colors, and smells, and sounds. Even out in the country, every square inch of land is covered in rice fields and small villages

Ack. I should go. My mom’s picking my dad up from the airport and she’ll be mad if I’m still awake.

Now I'm back. And bored. It feels so quite compared to the constant noise of India. And cold.

Hey there.

Hey guys! India is sooooo different and I have so much stuff to tell you, but it's all on my laptop and I can't connect it to the internet right now. I miss you all and I'm realllly bored. Email me or something. I'm lonely here.

I'm leaving!

So...if you haven't heard, I'm leaving for India on Sunday. I'm gonna be there for SIX WHOLE WEEKS!!! I think we're taking the laptop, so I'll post photos and stuff here. I'm going to have nothing to do; any suggestions? If you want, (this is kinda cheesy, but whatever) give me your address and I'll send you a postcard. I have nothing better to do.

I'll miss you guys!

Overly Used and Abused Words/Phrases.

I am proposing a challenge to me and my (so far) one follower:

Make a list of words or phrases you say far too often. It can be any length.

Go a certain period of time (a week, day, month, year? I haven't decided. Tell me what you think.) without saying any of the words on the list.

I guess I'm doing this to expand my vocabulary. And maybe it'll help me sound less dumb.

I've always also thought that saying words too often makes them lose or change their meaning, and people who use those words often sound stupid. To put it bluntly.

Here's my list:

1. irritating (this one was because I always thought people say "annoying" too much and that "annoying" was annoying. And now I say "irritating" too much.

2. Oh well. (I'm always sighing and constantly saying this.)

3. Sigh. (See 2.)

4. I dunno.

5. Whatever.

6. Sorry. (This really should be number one. I have apologized to everything, from a table to a person who wasn't there.)

7. Hrm. (Or erm. or hmmm. or er.)

8. whoops

That's all I can think of for now. And I realize my list is different than most other people's. I say strange things.

Hello.

Hey guys. It's Kristen. I have decided to publish some of my thoughts, adventures, and complaints online in hopes that someone will be entertained or inspired. I guess if no one reads it I'll just start ranting and pretend people do read it. I apologize for not being a very good writer. I'm not that great with words. Maybe this will help me get better at it. Maybe, if I can, I might write about my adventures in India this summer. Hrm. Interesting. We'll see.