chola temple

During my last weeks in India, I got to do a little sightseeing. I visited Thanjavur to see a really old and famous temple. I saw the Brihadeeswarar Temple, a magnificent building constructed by the Chola kings of south India. It was a breathtaking sight.

At the temple there was an elephant, who could bless you (for a small price). If you offered the elephant some rupees, it would suck them up with its trunk. Then he would bless you by placing his trunk on your noggin'

This temple also had a large statue of Nandi, the cow god (and mount of Shiva).

memo from the big guys

Dearest reader:
I regret to inform you that your blogger is unable to spell "wikipedia" correctly in her blog. Even under the extreme circumstances of her being in a place with few internets, this is intolerable. We apologize for any inconvenience and cost.

Sincerely,
The people of Wikipedia and not Wikepedia

jack fruit is wikepedia-friendly

Although some of my friends have called this ugly fruit you see to the right a Jacob's fruit, I found out that it is actually called Jack fruit. (See, AWT, I don't make up everything ;).

This watermelon-sized monster is cut open to reveal a stringy, sticky interior. Some of the guys put coconut oil on their hands to keep from getting their paws gummed up by the latex-like strands. This stringy part contains chubby, petal-shaped fruits of a yellow color, each containing within a large seed. These seeds can be boiled and eaten. They have a chestnut-y flavor to them, and apparently you can fry them with masala (mixture of Indian spices) for a nice treat!

Accompanying your fact-checked blog entry today are some photos or our Jack fruit feast.

Jack fruit viscera:


the edible part:

seeds:


Jayakumar pulls one out with his teeth:


Raja and a Jack fruit tongue:


the whole gang:

stay tuned

I'm back from my sightseeing travels, and I'll update the blog with stories and pictures as soon as possible--it may take a few days.

To whet your appetite for all things India: I finally saw some wild elephants--six of 'em!

sardines

Riding the bus in India is every bit as crazy as the tour books say it is. I have never been so close to so many human bodies.

Jacob's Fruit

Yesterday afternoon, Jayakumar and the others at the lab introduced me to a new food, the Jacob’s fruit. We all climbed on the roof of the lab (accessible by stairway), and cut up the unusual fruit. Sitting cross-legged (Indian style?) on the roof, with the wind blowing off the ghats, Raja’s cellphone playing Tamil music, and stuffing myself with the sweet fruit, I realized that I only have 10 more days in this magical place.

While we were washing the sticky Jake fruit juice off of our hands, Devani turned and said to me, “You won’t have company like us in the U.S.”

I know.

give me 5 to 10 minutes

It is understood that when someone says “give me two seconds” or “give me a few minutes,” they aren’t expecting you to pull out a stopwatch. It seems to me that the Indian equivalent is “just wait five minutes” or “just wait ten minutes.” This is increased in increments of five minutes, depending on the time.

It never takes that long. But, then again, it never only takes us a few minutes.

my face on Indian news

While I was in Thiruppudaimaruthur Bird Sanctuary (around the time of my birthday), we stayed in the house of a former chief justice of India, who was off in New Delhi for the time being. In the main room of the house was a picture of the judge’s son with former president Clinton (which everyone was very excited to show me, the token American). One day, the judge called, and when he found out that an American was staying in his rest house, he wanted to talk to me. I jammered my way through the telephone conversation, explaining the research that we were doing in his hometown and my reasons for coming to India. The next day, my birthday, he called me to wish me a happy birthday and to wish me a long life. The day after that, he sent a news team to film some of our research. An interview with Jayakumar and one with myself were aired on Indian national television. Wow.

akka, vanga!

One day while were in Koonthankulam Bird Sanctuary, a friend of Jayakumar’s stopped by to visit him. That evening, the three of us traveled to a nearby village to have dinner with his parents and grandparents. One of the little girls got very excited that I was there. Her mother leaned over to me and told me that the little girl had only seen white people on the television—that this was a very important experience for her. The little girl rushed me around (here is where you have your mental image of this skinny white girl being dragged around by a small Indian child) to meet every single grandparent, auntie, and uncle. The whole time, she giggled and shouted “akka, vanga,” which means “come, sister.” She once remarked to her mother in Tamil that I was so white that she seemed African!

What a lovely, crazy day.

welcoming faces

While I was in the field, I was continually surprised
by how hospitable people were in the smaller
Indian villages. I was the only white person in the whole of Koonthankulam, so I attracted a lot of curious children and adults. Once, I was invited (read: ushered) into someone’s home for afternoon tea so that I could meet every member of their extended family. After parting, they insisted that I come for breakfast…or dinner…or whatever.

I couldn’t help but think how this situation would be in America. It’s not that we aren’t friendly folk—trust me, I’ve learned to love “Southern hospitality” as much as the next person. I just don’t think we would see a foreigner walking down our streets and insist that they come inside and feel at home. It was an amazing experience. I only hope that one day one of my Indian friends is able to visit my home. Then, it will be my turn to play host, and we will see if I can return the favor.

wear your sari to work day

On Wednesday, two of the girl scholars at SACON, Rachna and Ezhilara dressed me up in a sari for office. Ezhila provided the sari and anklets, and Rachna gave me the finishing touches of bindi and bangles. The surprised office workers exclaimed that now, I was "a real Indian girl."


Ezhilara (left) and Rachna (right)

All dolled up...
A group of scholars after dinner:

postmortem

Thursday, I got to perform a postmortem of a bird. I removed the brain, heart, liver, kidneys, stomach contents, flight muscles, and feet bones and muscles in order to do pesticide analysis and heavy metal analysis. From my career as a biology major, I've had plenty of experience with dissections, so this was no problem for me. The only hard part was opening the skull to get at the brains (some of the brains leaked through the nose--oops!). We weighed the organ samples and then placed them in the freezer for later analysis.


Measuring... (please note the sexy orange gloves and SARS mask)Weighing...

Taking out the brains...Post-post-mortem:

Weighing the organs...
P.S. I didn't get bird flu.

P.P.S. If you are in the Lugoff area, please check out the this information about my lost doggie. Thanks.

monkey business

Some moments in life reassure you, letting you know that you've made the right choices. My visit to Vedanthangal Bird Sanctuary was one of these such moments. You know you've picked the right profession when monkeys are playing in the trees around your head while you are trying to count your bird populations. Biology rocks.

Here I am in front of the bird sanctuary:

Here I am in front of the sign for the sanctuary with the birdwatcher who heads up the place:

We did something no good biologist should do--feed the monkeys. Don't worry, I got my karmatic punishment--later the "king" of the monkeys almost attacked me because he had labeled me as a vending machine. Don't feed the monkeys! (even if it is really fun)

myoo-zee-um

Also while in Thirupudaimaruthur Bird Sanctuary, I was able to visit a small museum of art and pieces of everyday life from the Tamil's past.

A god:

These sheets have natural medicinal remedies written on them in Tamil.

This one's for you, Ryan Wilson.

dravidian architecture

This episode of subcontinental breakfast is dedicated to Caitlin Bennett, future architect extraordinare.

While in Thirupudaimaruthur Bird Sanctuary, I got to tour a famous temple there. The temple itself seems sparse, with alcoves alotted to the various gods. But, once I went up the stairs (the temple looks like a step pyramid from the outside), I saw beautiful artwork and wood carvings. But I think pictures will speak volumes more than my pitiful commentary.


All of the carvings were done of wood.

Some beautiful paintings detailing the stories of the gods:

Here I am with my birdwatcher friend, burning my feet on the hot temple roof.

piranda naal vaazhthukkal! (happy birthday!)

While I was in the field, I celebrated my 21st birthday in the village of Thirupudaimaruthur (Jayakumar likes to ask me to pronounce it so that he can laugh at me). In the morning, Jayakumar had a cake ready for me. After we lit the five candles, I blew them out. So far, just like a normal birthday.




After the candles were extinguished, it was my job as the birthday girl to cut the cake for everyone. I handed everyone a piece, in order of their importance. I actually had idea who was important or not, so I just followed everyone else's instructions. I was offered the first bite of everyone's cake. Jayakumar then took some of the icing and swiped it on my nose. I have a feeling that nose-icing is not the traditional part.



Then, I went to the Hindu temple in order to receive my birthday blessing. Afterwards, we went to the swami's house. The swami's wife had prepared some helwa, which is a South Indian dessert. The only way I can describe it is sticky sweet goodness (which is even better because you get to eat it with your hands). There was also some banana pudding-type item. It was a lot like our banana pudding, sans vanilla wafers and plus a lot more sugar. Then, they gave me a traditional Indian gift. It included an Indian rupee and some traditional Indian things, including bananas. These chubby little bananas are the best I have tasted in the world (sorry South America).

One of the gods of the temple:

Here I am receiving my blessing in the home of the swami.

Then, I receive my gift.

Here I am with the birdwatcher (on the right), the swami (the buff one in the orange lungi), and his family.


On birthdays, Indians traditionally give sweets to everyone. I passed out some caramels to anybody that I passed that morning--even the confused ladies that were going to the temple to worship.

Later in the day, we explored a forest that one of the birdwatchers had planted himself ten years ago. I saw three wild peacocks! Then, the birdwatcher, who is also a farmer, gave me the chance to learn to plant rice in one of his paddies. I was a super slow planter compared to his deft workers. I guess that rules out rice paddy worker as a potential profession.


While I didn't spend my 21st birthday exercising my legal rights in a bar downtown, I had a most memorable experience. There will be plenty of time for bar tabs later in life.

Special thanks to Granny Anne and Michael Brown who sent me birthday cards! I've got the cards hanging up in my hostel room to remind me of home.