Henna and Imambara

Sunday After a lazy day of catching up on sleep, Moumita picked Michael and I up to go to Gariahat with the sole purpose of getting Henna on my hands. On the street I saw a woman give me a double take, not uncommon, but realized it was Jyodi the girl I met on the bus! We talked for a while, I introduced her to Moumita, and we exchanged emails since Michael’s phone was stolen. It was night, and we stopped under a lit cluster of chairs on the sidewalk. I looked up a design in a book and two men took each hand and rapidly made the design spread to both underside and top of my hand to mid arm. So cool. I feel like a pretty pretty princess. 

 Except now my watch looks really out of place, so I took it off. Not knowing the time is not only going to take a toll on my sanity, but my lab co-workers (the lab has no timers) always ask me to time experiments—most do not have watches of their own. edit:: Practicality won over vanity and I now wear my black swiss army watch over my henna.  Monday/Tuesdsay Dr. Duran came from the HHMI program at UF to check up on Michael and I and see how we were doing. We took off Tuesday to show Dr. Duran around. Even though we left an hour early to meet the driver and car hired by the Institute, in typical Indian fashion, we were still an hour late to pick Dr. Duran up at his hotel. We rushed to a meeting with the head of Fullbright Scholars in India. After introducing our projects and ourselves, we were asked to participate in helping mentor Fullbright Scholars from India. Before we left, Michael and I were invited to attend a cultural performance at the center the following night. Back in the cab and after a quick stop to grab sandwiches and delicious delicious non instant coffee at Barrista (the Starbucks of India), we made our way on the winding 2 hour road out of Kolkata into the town of Hooghly. In the car ride, besides of course looking out at the emotionally beautiful Indian countryside, I was able to pick Dr. Duran’s brain on graduate school and Public Health Programs. He gave me invaluable advice, contact people and encouragement. Just last year I would never have been able to put myself out there like that, asking for help from such an important person. But I’ve grown a lot, and maybe it’s India, but I know what I want now and the dream has solidified into a very real goal. The first sight we visited was a church built in the 1500s. We climbed to the roof and lit candles. Even the Christian church had a sense of Hindu culture to it, everything was out in the open air, even the altars had windows that were not smothered in stained glass. We sat in the garden and discussed our impressions of the trip so far and what we think could improve further student trips. It was nice to hear Dr. Duran legitimize some of my feelings of loneliness and displacement. We are the first students to go on this trip and it was very much up to us to pave the way. Then our driver, who at this point had become a friend, negotiated a boat ride to the famous Imambara mosque. In the boat, we passed Indian cowboys herding and washing their cows through the Ganges. The cows would swim and the men would hold onto the cows or even ride them. Of course, my camera died in my bag. The mosque was like an abandoned palace: gorgeous faded murals, crumbing pillars, a dark hall saturated with low multicolored chandeliers. I covered my head with my Dupatta (salwar scarf) and took off my shoes. When the huge belltower would chime, pigeons would circle up out of their perches and cover the sky. I went up the million stairs in the minaret (ladies side of course) and passed the large bells and up to the tip of the tower; I could see all of India. If the stairs hadn’t already taken my breath away the view would have punched it out of me. Back in Kolkata Dr. Duran picked up his handmade suits on Park Street. So, if anyone wants a customized tailored suit for $100, send me your measurements. For dinner, we went to a highly recommended restaurant Peter Cat and found it eh. Just after we dropped Dr. Duran off, I had a little panic attack. I couldn’t believe he was leaving to go home and I was still here in this dark and confusing country for another 5 weeks. I love India but the time here is very trying and difficult. The intensity of feelings passed but the residue still lingers.