Burns' Night

Friday night started off as a nice quiet night. A bit windy, but the prospect of sushi was enough to get me out the door. Unfortunately, the sushi restaurant was full. So we (Alejandro, Giorgia, Maria, Angela, Gaetano, and I) went to a Dutch restaurant in Cow Square that I had been to with my parents. The lamb chops were excellent. After dinner Alejandro and I were feeling a bit lazy, but he had been invited to a Scottish party. He called Jairo, who was there, and he said that they were just sitting around talking and drinking. How boring, I thought. But it was on the way home, so we figured that we would stop by...

When we arrived at Wendy's house (our Scottish English (writing) teacher) we found some friends drinking whiskey and reciting poetry. I felt like I was back in college for a moment. It turns out that January 25th is known as Burns' Night. To celebrate the birthday of the Scottish poet Robert Burns, one reads poetry and drinks whiskey and eats shortbread (we had missed the pudding earlier). So, there was poetry, singing, stories, recipes, and even a game.



Then there was the dancing. The rug was rolled up and the socks and shoes came off. The rest of the evening was spent dizzying ourselves by locking elbows and twirling for eight counts. Unfortunately I do not have authorization to show that video.

Alejandro and I came home around 3AM. The Australian Open was on, so he suggested we watch a bit of tennis. I changed into my pyjamas and dragged my duvet two doors down to his room and made myself comfortable on the floor. I think I fell asleep before the first point was over. I woke up at about 11AM the next day feeling great, except for a dream about teaching snakes how to slither in straight line. I think Burns would have been satisfied.

Googling Home

So, I was just looking at maps. I was trying not to read the papers I have. Anyway, I found out that on Google maps, at least within the US, when you Google your address there are photos of your house. I got to visit my parents house (looks like spring) and my place in the city. I feel like I'm stalking my own house. I can even see my curtains through the window! How strange...

Bindia

The photos of my trip to visit Bin in India are finally up in Part I and Part II. I had a fantastic time there and hope to go back, just not to Nandi Hills...

In Calcutta we stayed with Bin's parents. They had just moved there from Shillong. I was also able to meet Bin's sister and her husband, as well as many friends of his. The brother of one friend was getting married, so we were invited to the wedding. We did not attend the ceremony, but the following day there was a New Year's Eve party at the house of the groom's family. The way the house was decorated made me think I was in a movie. There were flowers everywhere and the view from the rooftop was superb. There was a Rajastani band that played throughout the evening, and we drank and socialized until the early morning.

The next day was the wedding reception. Bin's cousin helped me pick out a sari the day before and the mother of a friend of Bin's dressed me. I felt like I was getting a bed sheet wrapped around me for a toga party (granted, it was a very luxurious and elegant bed sheet). After 20 minutes of folding and tucking I emerged.

The reception was nice, we only got to briefly congratulate the couple. Most time was spent eating. The food was excellent with a buffet of dozens of types of foods, including a curried lobster. The desserts were delightfully sweet and after dinner, instead of an aperitif, I tasted some paan. Paan is a digestive. It is a betel nut paste and some spices enclosed in a betel leaf. One is supposed to eat the whole thing at once, but I was forced to bite it into pieces and chew and suck (the leaf is huge). The party was fantastic, though I was happy to shed my sari when we got home due to my excessive fear of spilling something on it through the entire evening (try to delicately deshell curried lobster without making a mess...it's near impossible).

The Incident

Still in India, now in Bangalore, but head back to Delft tomorrow night. Today is Bin's first day at work so I am sorting out all our photos and buying random things for his new apartment (just moved in on Monday). The holiday was great, except for an incident yesterday...A prime example of a tragedy that does not occur...

First of all, we are both alright, but yesterday we were attacked. We had left the city to do some hiking. There was a bit of confusion between us. I guess that I had neglected to tell Bin that there were stairs and our driver thought that we were crazy to climb the road that went to the top of this hill. So we figured out that we can hike up the road and take the stairs down on the other side. It was 8km of road to the top.

There were some vehicles on the road, a few buses and cars, some motorbikes with couples. Just after 3km a bike with two men on it stopped. Bin and I both thought it was odd that one guy looked like he was covering the license plate with a handkerchief, but we kept walking. Then he started to talk to us, ask where we were from, wanting to shake our hands... we kept walking. We walk a bit faster he walks faster (his friend is sitting on the bike with it in gear) we tell him to leave us alone that we just want to be by ourselves. Then he grabs Bin's hand to try to pull him away and then grabs me around the waist and picks me up like he's going to carry me off...

I scream.

I had no idea I could scream like that. Somehow Bin gets this guy off of me and pulls me away. We stare at the guy for a moment and walk the other way and this guy gets on the bike with his friend and they speed off.

We pondered what to do and then walked back down, never reaching the top. I was terrified. I was really bothered that the didn't even make an attempt for the camera or the watch or the backpack, which means that these guys just wanted me.

We made it back to Bangalore safely. I'm ready to return to Holland.

Incredible !ndia

I'm not sure if you've seen the add campaign, but I've seen it everywhere. Not just here in India, but in The Economist, posters on bus shelters, billboards, everywhere. Bin and I are in Jaipur right now. Yesterday was a day that can only be described as incredible. We woke early and took the train from Delhi to Agra. We saw the Taj Mahal. Nice from afar, but slightly disappointing up close. We visited the Agra Fort too, then decided to take a bus to Fathepur Sikre to see another fort. That bus ride bought back a flood of memories of my travels throughout Africa with McHale. At the bus stop we got a bus that was to leave when it was full. But there was a political speech going on so the drivers were all listening to it. So then we heard another bus was leaving, so exited one bus for another that was so packed we couldn't even make it near the door. We returned to the other bus and waited. As soon as the speech was over the driver arrived and we left.

About 20 minutes of driving later we were back at the same bus station. Wait a few minutes then leave again. The road that we took was rural, paved when the British were there but never kept up. It was a dusty bumpy mess, as I sat next to a window that did not close. It took about two hours to cover 60km. When we finally arrived in Fathepur Sikre dusk was falling and the fort was closed, so we wandered around the tiny town as people stared in awe of me (being white of course). We met some nice people, had some chai, and went by the side of the road to wait for the bus to Jaipur. It arrived after 15 minutes, but the next 5 hours of my life I was almost scared to death by the maneuvers of this driver. Indian drivers are good, but aggressive, missing each other by centimeters. I did not want to sit close to the front for fear of actually seeing what the driver saw. We eventually arrived in Jaipur near midnight and spent an hour trying to find an available room. What a wonderful day.

I will, hopefully, have time to post photos of this adventure and others this weekend when Bin and I go to his house in Calcutta...

Whitewash

First snow of the year is here! Just a dusting, but it looks beautiful from my bedroom window. I know it's nothing like what in Chicago, but a nice reminder of home.

Creatures

I had an interesting experience last week. Julia, Carlos, the Iranian, and I went to a Dutch graduation party. Well, we sort of crashed the party. Julia was friends with one of the guys in the band and he invited us. So, at about 11:30PM on a Friday night, instead of going to a pub for a beer or two, we had a different type of evening.

The party was as a fraternity house. Apparently fraternity members do not reside there, but have it as a public space. And the space can be rented out as well, as was the case last Friday. The party was for Catalijn, who now has a masters (I think) in physics! As we arrived, a group of friends were reciting poems to honor her. I don't know what they were about, since they were in Dutch, but it seemed like roast. When that was done the band started playing again, but no one danced. It seems that Dutch parties are similar to American parties, everyone talks and no one dances. But we started to dance, and dance, and dance until 2AM, when we were a bit tired and the party seemed to be ending. Thought it wasn't the best party I've ever been to, it was lots of fun, since it was so different. Hopefully we can find more parties to crash...

Sweet Home Chicago

Last weekend I was in Chicago, back home for the second time this year. This trip was much longer than last, it was six days instead of four, but this time there was much more to do. The reason that I went home was because one of my closest friends, Nicole, got married, thus much of my visit was spent doing things related to the wedding.

I've known Nicole since high school, almost 15 years, and the first adjective that could be use to describe her is, "late". One of my main duties as a bridesmaid was to make sure that she showed up on time. That was actually accomplished, give or take 20 minutes. We had appointments for hair and nails, dropping off dresses and picking up shoes, getting to synagogue, and we even made it to the rehearsal dinner on time just as the Saturday snow storm was icing over.

The wedding was beautiful. I consider myself a conservative Jew, but Nicole and Rudy are modern orthodox. So this wedding was similar to previous weddings that I had attended, but had a few differences. Most of what I was not used to was the separation of the men and women, not all the time, but only for certain parts. The men had bottles of liquor, the women had fruit salad and soda. The men entertain the groom and the women entertain the bride, so there was alot of dancing and singing. But after the ceremony the genders were once again mixed.

I didn't spent the whole weekend with Nicole, Rudy, and their families. I was able to spend some time with my own as well. On Friday morning I had the honor of waking up The Kid (my brother David). I think that it was more of me doing my parents a favor, since it is almost impossible to get my brother out of bed. After jumping on the bed, and poking at him with one of my old foils, he finally peeked his head out and declared, "I have nothing to wear." Exhibit A, to your right, is his closet.

Mom and I went to the Field Museum to see the exhibit on maps. It was incredible. They had over a millennia worth of maps. The docent said it would take about 45 minutes to view, but Mom and I spent about two hours there. I loved it, they had some of my favorite maps there (yes, there actually are some maps that I consider my favorites, such as the "Geological Map of England and Wales and Part of Scotland" by William Smith and "The loss of men during Hannibal’s march to Italy, 218 B.C. and Napoleon’s march to Moscow, 1812-13" by Charles Joseph Minard). We only had half an hour to look at the Darwin exhibit, but that was alright, since I preferred the maps. I hung out with Dad at his office and at the airport, drinking cups of tea. Every conversation with him I learn something.

Ruth was also in town, with Vince, so I got to see them at Connie and Greg's place (east meets west with the Chinese Christmas tree), plus for dim sum in Chinatown. Drew joined us as well. It was nice to see him again. He is letting me borrow one of his bike boxes so I was able to bring my racing bike back to Delft. It was surprisingly easy, though the box is a bit awkward, I did not have to pay an extra fee to bring it with. It is my baby now. I took a long ride this morning, the sun was out, though so was the wind. I was so happy to be geared up and gliding through the wetlands, chatting with Julia (we were going slow since I'm not quite in the cycling shape I was before).

It think that was pretty much my whole weekend. Oh, I did some shopping. Some of it was in the shops, but most was looking through my parent's basement, peering though boxes that I packed a year ago, looking for my shoes that I swear I left right there (not recalling that our home is actually lived in and I cannot expect things to stay put for months). It was a really nice visit home. I got to see some snow, but leave before the storm hit (though I got to watch our plane being de-iced). Time to plan my next vacation.

Istanbul

Last week Carlitos and I spent a few days in Istanbul. Although the weather was terrible, cold and rainy, just like Delft, the city was amazing.

The first thing we did, once we arrived, was go to the baths. Mom had recommended, Cagaloglu Hamami, where she had visited a few years back, which was also noted in the book "1000 Places to See Before You Die." While I have to admit that I own the book, though interesting, I find it a bit pretentious. At the baths, the books logo was plastered everywhere on everything. I found it very sad that such a beautiful and historic bath now relies solely on that book for marketing. It seemed completely unnecessary, for based on the quality of my bath I would assume that word of mouth would be sufficient.

I was first lead into a changing room and given a high school locker room size towel (maybe slightly bigger and definitely softer) to cover myself. Wooden sandals were also provided. I was then taken to the bath. It was a beautiful columned room with marble floors, dozens of faucets and sinks along the walls, and a foot high platform in the center. I was brought to a warm basin full of flowing water and with a quick flick of the wrist my guide/massuse had removed my towel and instructed me to "wash!"

I spent about 20 minutes just pouring water over myself until I was instructed back and laid on the marble slab for a scrubbing. I was scrubbed within an inch of my life. As a friend of mine has said, "You go in with a tan and come out without one." A bit more washing followed. Then was the massage. It was so relaxing that I almost fell asleep. Then another rinse. Finally I was soaped up, my hair was washed, I was rinsed off again. By that time I was absolutely exhausted and could not do anything but sit and sip tea in the beautiful entrance hall until I could gather the strength to meet Carlitos on the men's side (women were allowed to be in the men's entrance area but men were not allowed in the women's).

Carlitos' experience was a bit different. Before we went to the baths he got a shave. He seemed a bit apprehensive at first, questioning the barber on his experience (25 years) when he saw the straight razor. The barber was quite thorough. After the shave he brought out what looked like a big cotton swab that the then set alight and used to burn off excess ear hairs! After that I went off to my bath and he went off to his, but Carlitos said that his massage was not as thorough and paid a bit extra for a second one and that his whole experience was not quite as long as mine and became a bit anxious having to wait for me for almost an hour. But on the whole we both enjoyed the experience.

The rest of the holiday was spent seeing the big sites and trying not to buy a carpet. The first site was the Topkapi Palace. This was where the sultans lived for hundreds of years. In honor of Bin, our first stop was a tour of the harem, the former home of the sultans' many concubines and children. The rest of the palace was full of small museums and treasures. Then to the Aya Sophia, a church built by Emperor Justinian that was used for almost thousand years before being transformed into a mosque for the next five hundred years, and is now is a museum. It's a mammoth structure. Across the plaza was the Blue Mosque, which was just as beautiful, but a bit more slender. We also spent some time at the Grand Bazaar and the Spice Bazaar. As many of you know, I hate shopping. I hate looking and looking for something that may not be perfect and is probably overpriced. I do like spending money, but that is completely different than the act of shopping.

At the Grand Bazaar everyone was trying to sell us a carpet. The whole ceremony is quite interesting. If you even glance at carpet you will be invited into the shop. You enter reluctantly, and take a seat, trying not to look at anything for too long. You are asked if you want tea, and when the response is yes, the assistant is sent out to fine a tea boy wandering about the market. Then the carpets begin to be unrolled and piled, one on top of the other. First you narrow down the size, then the style, then the colors. Finally you have a rug that you like, not necessarily love, but like. And the negotiations start. They say a number, you say a number, you think it's too high, the price is reduced a little, you say you are a poor student, the price is reduced a bit more, you say you need to think about it, the priced is cut by a bit, you say that you need to go to the bank, and suddenly the price is a bit less. Then you take their card and say you will return. And you don't.

I actually saw one carpet I liked. It was cream and light blue and made of silk, about five feet wide and eight feet long. It would have probably cost almost the five figures (in dollars). I am glad that I did not start the negotiations on that one...

Photos will be posted later, maybe a few more stories too. But not today, I need to pack.

The Visa Raj

I'm going to India during the winter holiday. One of my best friends from IHE, Bin, has returned home and I shall visit him. I need a visa for India. Apparently everyone needs a visa for India. I know this because I googled it. I also found the application online, as well as the address and list of fees. It should be easy. But, of course, it is not.

Giorgia came with me to Den Haag. She had some documents of Bin's that needed to be certified by the Dutch foreign office, as well as the Indian Embassy. We left Delft at 9AM. The foreign office was simple, very Dutch. An orderly line, a simple fee schedule, and done in 10 minutes. Then we walked to the Indian Embassy. Once we found it we followed the signs and arrow that read "Passports and Visas" to a small basement office. There, I was informed that, no, in fact they do not process visas there, but that had outsourced it! The Indians are outsourcing now. Anyway, the visa office was down the street, about a 10 minute walk. I left Giorgia at the embassy to get her documents stamped.

I went to the visa service office, took a number, and waited my turn. When I got to the desk and my application had been approved, I was informed that the fee would be €90! But the form says €50? Well, she explained, the normal fee is €50 for the visa, but for Americans it is €75, plus a €15 service fee. I asked why that was not noted, she replied that it was noted online. I disagreed, and said that the form online was the exact same form as in the office that showed both the wrong address and the wrong fee and that if the current information had been accessible online that I would have found it. What other explanation did I have for showing up at the visa office with only €85!

Yes, I was €5 short. I've been waiting on a tuition refund from the institute that is still yet to come and I did not take out extra cash besides the €50 that I had assumed the visa would cost. So I had to wait for Giorgia. She was having her own problems with the embassy, they needed document copies and the copy guy wanted to be paid above and beyond the €50 it was costing to get the documents stamped. She said some choice Italian words to him and got the copies made and met me at the visa office minutes before it closed for the morning. Once I paid, I was informed that I had to return at 4:30PM to pick up the visa.

So Giorgia and I spent the afternoon in a cafe. Well, I spent the afternoon there and Giorgia left for a short while to meet her professor at the train station. I have no idea why they decided to meet at the train station in Den Haag, but apparently it was a useful meeting. The afternoon was much more relaxing, Giorgia was able to pick up her documents from the embassy early and I was able to get my visa without anymore hassle. And we were back in Delft by about 5PM. Only 8 hours to get the visa.

Epilogue
I was lucky to get my visa so easily. A Brazilian friend waited all day in Den Haag then found out the misspelled her name in the visa and had to return the next day for the corrected copy. Her boyfriend didn't fare much better, since he will be going to India for a three day conference, plus two weeks of tourism, he was informed that he could not get a tourist visa, but needed a business visa, thus a letter of invitation. I was lucky.