I haven't written lately because there hasn't been a lot to say; I've spent most of the past week dealing with stomach problems. Sometimes I felt okay for a few hours but I never trusted myself to stray too far from the hotel bathroom. Toilets here are interesting; the one in the hotel is “European style,” which means a regular kind of flush toilet we're used to. “Indian toilets,” which I haven't actually seen or used yet, are much more primitive and require you to squat. There is also either toilet paper which you use and put in a separate place (not in the toilet) or a way to use your hand and water. I haven't been eager to experience using these bathrooms with the diarrhea I've had.
This past weekend, after spending nearly all of the week in the hotel, we had planned to go out and do something, but once again, we weren't able to. It seemed that we were rotating who was feeling sick and who was just fine. We did manage to have dinner on Sunday night with Fazal (Colin's coworker who had previously been working in Chicago and will come back in October when his visa is valid again). It was nice to see a somewhat familiar face, even though I'd only met him once while he was in Chicago.
I spend most of the time reading; my . It's great that the TV stations already has captions put on Western movies in English since the TV does not have a way to turn on the captions, but I don't watch much; it's usually the same movies repeatedly such as “Fantastic Four: The Silver Surfer.” We have watched “Bee Movie,” “
We've ordered room service a few times. It is actually much cheaper than eating in the restaurant downstairs. There is continental breakfast buffet in the morning and I always get a hardboiled egg as part of my meal. The coffee is interesting; it appears to be very strong coffee which is brewed and then when someone orders it, they put some in a cup with steamed milk. It is very different but definitely tasty.
Most food is traditional Indian food, but they do attempt to make American or European cuisine. “French toast” is bizarre – it is two slim pieces of slightly toasted bread with a thin layer of red jelly in between them. The pasta is okay, but just don't expect it to be great. On the room service menu there are choices for hamburgers but they never eat beef here so the choices are vegetarian and turkey. I've eaten these before the trip and am not a big fan of them, but might get one just to try it.
I've been slowly feeling better, so hopefully, at the very least I will be able to enjoy the weekend in Delhi and at the Taj Mahal. We plan to fly there Saturday morning with Prashant (Colin's boss) to see some of Delhi. On Sunday, after Prashant leaves to go back to Chicago, we'll make our way to the Taj Mahal before flying back that night to Hyderabad.
Yesterday it rained constantly. There has been very little rain during this monsoon season in the area, which they heavily depend upon for their crops, so the rain was definitely welcome. I tried to take pictures of the rain but if you've ever tried to do that, you'll know that it's hard to do. I noticed a small boy run out onto the balcony in one of the apartments across from us when it first started raining midday. He stuck his hand out between the bars, trying to feel the drops. Soon his mother followed him, holding a bowl and a spoonful of food, coaxing him back inside to continue eating lunch.
The rain did cause problems though; Colin wasn't able to get home until about 10 pm last night. The roads and traffic were disastrous. Colin usually doesn't get home until sometime after eight but the car leaves the hotel no earlier than 9:30 in the morning. It was expected that he would have long hours but it should be easier to get home when Prashant leaves because then Colin can come back without waiting for him. Even then, he'll most likely spend most of the evening working, but I've told him that's much better than him coming back so late.
Tonight we're going out with Prashant to a Chinese restaurant. I'm eager to have non-Indian food, see what Chinese food is like here, but most of all get the chance to leave the hotel.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Monday, August 10, 2009
First Indian Experiences
4-6 August 2009 Tuesday-Thursday
Traveling to Hyderabad, India
The trip has been an overwhelming experience. I feel like I am still arriving. Our 777 took off from O'Hare at 7:20 pm on Tuesday (August 4) night and lasted 14 hours and 40 minutes. We were lucky and got to change our seats to window and aisle in the back (Section 3) of the plane instead of seats which would have let Colin have an aisle and me one of the middle seats.
We were able to see many places on our flight despite sleeping, it being dark, or having the window closed most of the time. The sun was just barely set when we started our mostly northward journey over Wisconsin, Lake Michigan, Traverse City, Charlevoix, Mackinac Island, the Soo, and onwards through the vast Canadian wilderness, peering down at the landscape of lights shimmering in the enveloping darkness. I was so excited to be able to spot what was below us by the shape of the land defined by the lakes. "Lake Ann, where Aunt Bobbie has a cabin, is one of those itty bitty lakes right there." "I can see Becca's house! Well, not really, but I know it's right in there." I was worried I wouldn't be able to see Charlevoix, but sure enough, there was the tell-tale cluster of Round Lake and Lake Charlevoix, with Beaver Island and its necklace of smaller islands nearby. I couldn't exactly pick out where Burnett Road was; the trees seem to block almost all the light in that area, but I figured out a pretty good approximation of where it, or at least Brooks Hill, was.
We were still awake a couple hours or so later, when we looked out and tried to make sense of what we saw. Colin kept wanting to open the window to see if he could catch a glimpse of the Aurora Borealis (northern lights) as he had on this trip to Spain, but there were no mystical dancing colors to be seen. However, there was clouds/water/ice below us - what it was I could never quite decide, especially since the texture would change and the flight status map wouldn't show us near Greenland yet. I took some Benadryl and by the time we got to Iceland, I was so out of it that when Colin tried to wake me up, excitedly pointing out Rejkjavik, it was all I could do to say "mmph" and promptly go back to sleep without looking out the window. Sometime while we slept the sun "rose" in the west and we flew straight over Moscow. I woke up a bit before Colin and sometime after Colin woke up, I was able to crack open the window to see desert below. Soon we came to the Himalayas which were, of course, awesome. Just as we were about to hit the tarmac in New Delhi the sun was setting again.
Delhi
The first encounter on Indian soil was a mostly stressful experience but not overly negative. We were made to fill out a form declaring that yes, we were coming from a country where there were cases of the H1N1 flu and no, we hadn't had a fever in the last few days. There was a queue where they checked with an infrared camera for anyone who might be feverish before we went through the normal checkpoint. The bored guy who scanned my passport and visa didn't say a word to me, merely stamping it before shooing me on. Colin had a different story; his passport was a couple years older than mine and showed a picture and signature from high school. His signature on the entrance form was very different from the one on the passport and the guard didn't think the picture resembled Colin enough to be authentic. It took a long time, in which I started to slightly panic and try to figure out what I'd do if he wasn't let through. But thankfully, he was. Otherwise this would be a very different story.
The bus ride took us right on the runways themselves to cross and get to the domestic air terminal. When we stepped out, the heat, humidity, and smells hit us full on. The limited experience I've had with India so far involves very distinct spicy smells. I don't know how else to describe them. To add to the sense of bizarreness, our soap reminds us of green jello in look and smell.
That night, Wednesday night, was spent in the domestic terminal in New Delhi. It was unwise to go out after the sun had set and our flight was really early so trying to find a hotel room didn't make much sense anyway. The security was different; there was no one else there at the time so the guards were all clustered in groups. They ushered me to a screening room for females where I was checked by a female guard who I managed to understand when she asked "5:50 flight??" like "You're seriously staying here until then?" We had 7 and a half hours to go.
The night was spent mostly staring into space or reading. Colin managed an hour of sleep and I laid down for fifteen minutes with no success. There was wireless and it was even free, but we didn't have the right power adaptors and couldn't access the internet anyway; we had to have a code sent as a text message to a cellphone. We did try sending it to my US phone but it never came. The airport filled up with people as the night wore on, but at first it was almost barren except for the employees.
When the time finally dwindled down to less than two hours before boarding time, we walked over to a sort of cafe and got coffees and pastries for about 5 USD total. While it wasn't a full breakfast and my paper cup leaked, it was delicious. I decided ahead of time I wasn't going to even pretend to try to understand what exactly I ate here. We got a fuller breakfast on the two-hour flight and one of the ladies sitting near us was from Michigan and was visiting extended family near Hyderabad with her husband who was also Indian and their two young sons. The flight was largely uneventful which tends to be a good thing for flights. We were served breakfast and I picked the omelet again.
Hyderabad
The first thing I noticed was that Hyderabad seemed significantly cooler than Delhi at 6 in the morning had been. This is only relative though; the humidity is quite high and it's usually in the 80s during the day.
After disembarking, we really didn't have a clue how we were going to get to the hotel. Magically, there was a sign saying “Mr. Colin Alworth” and the guy led us to a car from the hotel. The ride into the city was overwhelming (I can't think of any other word to describe these first Indian encounters). Honking seems to be the way to alert other drivers. I don't think they even have turn signals – they certainly never use them. Some of the buses have “Please honk” written on the back of them. When Colin asked a coworker what this really meant (was it to be funny or was it serious?), the coworker didn't know. I don't remember much of the rest of Thursday; jet lag had taken over by then. I know there was some napping, Colin went to the office for a couple of hours, and then it was bedtime.
7 August 2009 Friday
Today was Colin's first full day at work. Both of us were dealing with stomach issues, mostly gas, all day. The power adaptor I had at the hotel for my computer failed to work. The older, British version of “Death at a Funeral” was on TV after dinner so we watched it. We weren't very tired so we fell asleep around 2 am.
8 August 2009 Saturday
We slept in and missed the breakfast hours. I was feeling “cabin fever” and finally got Colin to go with me outside. It was just a walk around the block but for a first taste of being within the city it was overwhelming. We didn't stop anywhere and no one grabbed at us. Later, I didn't feel good so we stayed in the rest of the day. We also asked for a new adaptor but didn't get it probably because they forgot about it.
9 August 2009 Sunday
We went out to lunch across the street (the first time I'd eaten outside of the hotel since we'd arrived) at a place that was called a coffee shop. The two dishes were really spicy, but one more so than the other. They were both different types of flat breads with different sauces to dip into. Our mouths were on fire, our eyes were red, and I was constantly blowing my nose. The price was roughly a third of what lunch at the hotel would have been. There was some drizzle while we were out and quite a bit of lightning at one point, but it never really rained. When we came back in, it was Colin's turn to feel bad and we ended up not going back out that day. I finally got a plug adaptor that works!
10 August 2009 Today
Colin's boss had flown in during the night from visiting his family elsewhere in India and he joined us for breakfast. I had my first excursion out of the hotel without Colin. It was only two hours, at a bookstore, but when the driver asked if I wanted to go back to the hotel I said “yes” with relief. It's not that I don't like being out there (haven't made up my mind yet), but it's just so overwhelming. Everything here is overwhelming. I thought I'd have lots to write about while being here but it turns out the problem is I simply can't seem to make much sense of it myself, let alone come up with conclusions and witty insights.
I spent more at the bookstore than I had intended to; I had told myself to get only two or three books and then other things I liked. No one thing was overly expensive to me and the books had prices that were really attractive for an American bookworm. For 1822 rupees, or 38 dollars, I got six books, two notebooks, four pens, and nailclippers. The most expensive book was 295 rupees, or just over 6 dollars and it's the Hyderabad history book (“Hyderabad: A Biography” by Narendra Luther). There's also an English-Hindi phrase book and a small travel book on Hyderabad. I made sure not to get just non-fiction books related to India; I got “Eat, Pray, Love” (Elizabeth Gilbert), “Setting Free the Bears” (John Irving), and “Freakonomics” (Levitt and Dubner).
While normally I would have probably put back at least half the books, the prices weren't the only reason I got so many; Colin insisted that this is my vacation and I don't have to go and have a hair-raising adventure every day. After all, I am traveling for four weeks and I intend to do lots of reading during the much-needed downtime. I brought very little but I did bring, along with the thick India travel guide, three reading books and I'm almost done with the second one.
When I was back at the hotel room, someone dropped off an elaborate flower basket that contains 13 roses and a cluster of white flowers. They still had droplets clinging to their petals and there was no indication of where they came from so I assumed it was normal hotel business.
For lunch, I went back to the coffee shop and ordered one of the same things we'd had yesterday – but asked for “not too spicy.” I was surprised to find how quickly I've adapted to spice because I dipped almost every piece in the sauces. It was very good. Along with a liter of mineral water and a cup of coffee, the lunch was about 125 rupees – a grand total of $2.50. When I walked back to the hotel, I realized I had metal coins in the money belt. I had to pull it out of my pants and fish them out, putting them in the basket before walking through the metal detector. I smiled, showing that I realized the comic scene I just gave them and they certainly acknowledged that yes, that was rather silly. From now on, I'm putting the coins in my pocket. Coins are worth no more than ten cents a piece, after all.
Traveling to Hyderabad, India
The trip has been an overwhelming experience. I feel like I am still arriving. Our 777 took off from O'Hare at 7:20 pm on Tuesday (August 4) night and lasted 14 hours and 40 minutes. We were lucky and got to change our seats to window and aisle in the back (Section 3) of the plane instead of seats which would have let Colin have an aisle and me one of the middle seats.
We were able to see many places on our flight despite sleeping, it being dark, or having the window closed most of the time. The sun was just barely set when we started our mostly northward journey over Wisconsin, Lake Michigan, Traverse City, Charlevoix, Mackinac Island, the Soo, and onwards through the vast Canadian wilderness, peering down at the landscape of lights shimmering in the enveloping darkness. I was so excited to be able to spot what was below us by the shape of the land defined by the lakes. "Lake Ann, where Aunt Bobbie has a cabin, is one of those itty bitty lakes right there." "I can see Becca's house! Well, not really, but I know it's right in there." I was worried I wouldn't be able to see Charlevoix, but sure enough, there was the tell-tale cluster of Round Lake and Lake Charlevoix, with Beaver Island and its necklace of smaller islands nearby. I couldn't exactly pick out where Burnett Road was; the trees seem to block almost all the light in that area, but I figured out a pretty good approximation of where it, or at least Brooks Hill, was.
We were still awake a couple hours or so later, when we looked out and tried to make sense of what we saw. Colin kept wanting to open the window to see if he could catch a glimpse of the Aurora Borealis (northern lights) as he had on this trip to Spain, but there were no mystical dancing colors to be seen. However, there was clouds/water/ice below us - what it was I could never quite decide, especially since the texture would change and the flight status map wouldn't show us near Greenland yet. I took some Benadryl and by the time we got to Iceland, I was so out of it that when Colin tried to wake me up, excitedly pointing out Rejkjavik, it was all I could do to say "mmph" and promptly go back to sleep without looking out the window. Sometime while we slept the sun "rose" in the west and we flew straight over Moscow. I woke up a bit before Colin and sometime after Colin woke up, I was able to crack open the window to see desert below. Soon we came to the Himalayas which were, of course, awesome. Just as we were about to hit the tarmac in New Delhi the sun was setting again.
Delhi
The first encounter on Indian soil was a mostly stressful experience but not overly negative. We were made to fill out a form declaring that yes, we were coming from a country where there were cases of the H1N1 flu and no, we hadn't had a fever in the last few days. There was a queue where they checked with an infrared camera for anyone who might be feverish before we went through the normal checkpoint. The bored guy who scanned my passport and visa didn't say a word to me, merely stamping it before shooing me on. Colin had a different story; his passport was a couple years older than mine and showed a picture and signature from high school. His signature on the entrance form was very different from the one on the passport and the guard didn't think the picture resembled Colin enough to be authentic. It took a long time, in which I started to slightly panic and try to figure out what I'd do if he wasn't let through. But thankfully, he was. Otherwise this would be a very different story.
The bus ride took us right on the runways themselves to cross and get to the domestic air terminal. When we stepped out, the heat, humidity, and smells hit us full on. The limited experience I've had with India so far involves very distinct spicy smells. I don't know how else to describe them. To add to the sense of bizarreness, our soap reminds us of green jello in look and smell.
That night, Wednesday night, was spent in the domestic terminal in New Delhi. It was unwise to go out after the sun had set and our flight was really early so trying to find a hotel room didn't make much sense anyway. The security was different; there was no one else there at the time so the guards were all clustered in groups. They ushered me to a screening room for females where I was checked by a female guard who I managed to understand when she asked "5:50 flight??" like "You're seriously staying here until then?" We had 7 and a half hours to go.
The night was spent mostly staring into space or reading. Colin managed an hour of sleep and I laid down for fifteen minutes with no success. There was wireless and it was even free, but we didn't have the right power adaptors and couldn't access the internet anyway; we had to have a code sent as a text message to a cellphone. We did try sending it to my US phone but it never came. The airport filled up with people as the night wore on, but at first it was almost barren except for the employees.
When the time finally dwindled down to less than two hours before boarding time, we walked over to a sort of cafe and got coffees and pastries for about 5 USD total. While it wasn't a full breakfast and my paper cup leaked, it was delicious. I decided ahead of time I wasn't going to even pretend to try to understand what exactly I ate here. We got a fuller breakfast on the two-hour flight and one of the ladies sitting near us was from Michigan and was visiting extended family near Hyderabad with her husband who was also Indian and their two young sons. The flight was largely uneventful which tends to be a good thing for flights. We were served breakfast and I picked the omelet again.
Hyderabad
The first thing I noticed was that Hyderabad seemed significantly cooler than Delhi at 6 in the morning had been. This is only relative though; the humidity is quite high and it's usually in the 80s during the day.
After disembarking, we really didn't have a clue how we were going to get to the hotel. Magically, there was a sign saying “Mr. Colin Alworth” and the guy led us to a car from the hotel. The ride into the city was overwhelming (I can't think of any other word to describe these first Indian encounters). Honking seems to be the way to alert other drivers. I don't think they even have turn signals – they certainly never use them. Some of the buses have “Please honk” written on the back of them. When Colin asked a coworker what this really meant (was it to be funny or was it serious?), the coworker didn't know. I don't remember much of the rest of Thursday; jet lag had taken over by then. I know there was some napping, Colin went to the office for a couple of hours, and then it was bedtime.
7 August 2009 Friday
Today was Colin's first full day at work. Both of us were dealing with stomach issues, mostly gas, all day. The power adaptor I had at the hotel for my computer failed to work. The older, British version of “Death at a Funeral” was on TV after dinner so we watched it. We weren't very tired so we fell asleep around 2 am.
8 August 2009 Saturday
We slept in and missed the breakfast hours. I was feeling “cabin fever” and finally got Colin to go with me outside. It was just a walk around the block but for a first taste of being within the city it was overwhelming. We didn't stop anywhere and no one grabbed at us. Later, I didn't feel good so we stayed in the rest of the day. We also asked for a new adaptor but didn't get it probably because they forgot about it.
9 August 2009 Sunday
We went out to lunch across the street (the first time I'd eaten outside of the hotel since we'd arrived) at a place that was called a coffee shop. The two dishes were really spicy, but one more so than the other. They were both different types of flat breads with different sauces to dip into. Our mouths were on fire, our eyes were red, and I was constantly blowing my nose. The price was roughly a third of what lunch at the hotel would have been. There was some drizzle while we were out and quite a bit of lightning at one point, but it never really rained. When we came back in, it was Colin's turn to feel bad and we ended up not going back out that day. I finally got a plug adaptor that works!
10 August 2009 Today
Colin's boss had flown in during the night from visiting his family elsewhere in India and he joined us for breakfast. I had my first excursion out of the hotel without Colin. It was only two hours, at a bookstore, but when the driver asked if I wanted to go back to the hotel I said “yes” with relief. It's not that I don't like being out there (haven't made up my mind yet), but it's just so overwhelming. Everything here is overwhelming. I thought I'd have lots to write about while being here but it turns out the problem is I simply can't seem to make much sense of it myself, let alone come up with conclusions and witty insights.
I spent more at the bookstore than I had intended to; I had told myself to get only two or three books and then other things I liked. No one thing was overly expensive to me and the books had prices that were really attractive for an American bookworm. For 1822 rupees, or 38 dollars, I got six books, two notebooks, four pens, and nailclippers. The most expensive book was 295 rupees, or just over 6 dollars and it's the Hyderabad history book (“Hyderabad: A Biography” by Narendra Luther). There's also an English-Hindi phrase book and a small travel book on Hyderabad. I made sure not to get just non-fiction books related to India; I got “Eat, Pray, Love” (Elizabeth Gilbert), “Setting Free the Bears” (John Irving), and “Freakonomics” (Levitt and Dubner).
While normally I would have probably put back at least half the books, the prices weren't the only reason I got so many; Colin insisted that this is my vacation and I don't have to go and have a hair-raising adventure every day. After all, I am traveling for four weeks and I intend to do lots of reading during the much-needed downtime. I brought very little but I did bring, along with the thick India travel guide, three reading books and I'm almost done with the second one.
When I was back at the hotel room, someone dropped off an elaborate flower basket that contains 13 roses and a cluster of white flowers. They still had droplets clinging to their petals and there was no indication of where they came from so I assumed it was normal hotel business.
For lunch, I went back to the coffee shop and ordered one of the same things we'd had yesterday – but asked for “not too spicy.” I was surprised to find how quickly I've adapted to spice because I dipped almost every piece in the sauces. It was very good. Along with a liter of mineral water and a cup of coffee, the lunch was about 125 rupees – a grand total of $2.50. When I walked back to the hotel, I realized I had metal coins in the money belt. I had to pull it out of my pants and fish them out, putting them in the basket before walking through the metal detector. I smiled, showing that I realized the comic scene I just gave them and they certainly acknowledged that yes, that was rather silly. From now on, I'm putting the coins in my pocket. Coins are worth no more than ten cents a piece, after all.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Ohmygosh I'm going to India
For those who don't already know, Colin and I are going to India. Tomorrow night. There's general excitement, stress, and "what the heck are we doing??" which Colin can easily answer "Work, work, work." Me? I'm mostly just tagging along, having no real commitments until school starts Wednesday, September 2nd. So yes, nearly a solid month of India is quickly approaching.
It wasn't until less than a week ago we knew for certain we were going. I'm already a bit hazy on exactly when the suggestion was made, but it was roughly a week before that that Colin's bosses asked "Is your passport up to date?" This resulted in a scramble to find it. That weekend we made a trip south to Bloomington (I really needed more clothes anyway) where we hung out with Susan, did tons of laundry, and I grabbed whatever I thought might be needed.
We'd spent the following Tuesday getting the visas. Colin and I drove downtown to drop off the forms and passports and had to scramble when we found we went to the wrong address listed on the application ten minutes before our appointment. Since he was the one who had to go, I drove around in circles - downtown Chicago (first time actually) - while he went in. Later that day I took the train and picked them up. Apparently, a generic name like "Karen Larsen" takes longer to check than a unique one like "Colin Alworth" because my email notifying the visa was ready to be picked up came quite a bit later than Colin, much to his nervousness. I hadn't taken my cellphone since you can't take electronic devices and only a small lady's handbag is permitted. I scribbled down some sudoku puzzles for the rides and only carried a bright yellow folder in my hands. On the way back, I was hot and thirsty so I grabbed a strange but tasty drink called Strawberry Pom Smootea at an Argo Tea.
Wednesday night we went to the airport to get the tickets; the website wouldn't deal with the travel vouchers Colin had gotten last December from agreeing to wait for later flights from San Mateo. They needed to be used soon before they expired. Thursday I got a camera at a local store called Wolf Camera. I'd done some research and decided a Canon point-and-shoot (SD1200 IS) would fit the bill. Initially, I was quite happy with just ordering another Minolta Dimage X (or any of the newer versions in that series) but Colin pointed out that there's been a lot of development in digital cameras since I got my first one in 2003. I could have ordered it online and fretted about when it'd get here, but I wanted to test and play with it, especially since we were spending the weekend in Duluth. I'm quite happy with it, don't have any complaints so far and I've taken about 200 pictures.
Duluth was a whirlwind but, as always, it was great to see Colin's family. Sure, there's the drama of the extended family but I knew the "battlefield" and wasn't too affected. Finally got to meet Nina! She's quite the energetic tomboy and I got lots of shots of her goofing around with Colin. We had a boat tour along the shore Saturday. The weekend was cool and cloudy, with some short thunderstorms and rainshowers. Since India is going to be really hot and humid, Duluth wasn't helping us prepare for it. But then again, what the heck would? I spent a lot of time wrapped up in blankets and never took my sweatshirt off except when we were at Nana's in the tropical heat. I even slept with the bed electrically heated.
Most of my spare time has been spent reading, either online or print books, about India. We will be mostly in Hyderabad, which is not touted as a tourist city. It is also known as Cyberabad (cyber city); Colin will be working in an area where there are 80,000 other programmers. However, there are things to see and places to go in the area, it is known for its fabulous food, and we know we are going to spend time in at least Delhi and at the Taj Mahal on the weekends. I've skimmed a few guidebooks (Lonely Planet's is by far the best) and other non-fiction. I really enjoy reading "A Traveler's History of India" by Sinharaja Tammita-Delgoda but it's a library book and I'm planning on taking very little and mostly stuff I can leave behind. After all, stuff is cheap there and I have only clothes appropriate for northern US colder climate and society (shorts aren't worn in India). So my backpack is all I'm carrying. To India. For a month.
I'm constantly wondering, "What the heck am I doing?" The answer: Going off on an adventure (with the love of my life during monsoon season to the most foreign land I've been to yet that had never really been on my list of places to visit).
It wasn't until less than a week ago we knew for certain we were going. I'm already a bit hazy on exactly when the suggestion was made, but it was roughly a week before that that Colin's bosses asked "Is your passport up to date?" This resulted in a scramble to find it. That weekend we made a trip south to Bloomington (I really needed more clothes anyway) where we hung out with Susan, did tons of laundry, and I grabbed whatever I thought might be needed.
We'd spent the following Tuesday getting the visas. Colin and I drove downtown to drop off the forms and passports and had to scramble when we found we went to the wrong address listed on the application ten minutes before our appointment. Since he was the one who had to go, I drove around in circles - downtown Chicago (first time actually) - while he went in. Later that day I took the train and picked them up. Apparently, a generic name like "Karen Larsen" takes longer to check than a unique one like "Colin Alworth" because my email notifying the visa was ready to be picked up came quite a bit later than Colin, much to his nervousness. I hadn't taken my cellphone since you can't take electronic devices and only a small lady's handbag is permitted. I scribbled down some sudoku puzzles for the rides and only carried a bright yellow folder in my hands. On the way back, I was hot and thirsty so I grabbed a strange but tasty drink called Strawberry Pom Smootea at an Argo Tea.
Wednesday night we went to the airport to get the tickets; the website wouldn't deal with the travel vouchers Colin had gotten last December from agreeing to wait for later flights from San Mateo. They needed to be used soon before they expired. Thursday I got a camera at a local store called Wolf Camera. I'd done some research and decided a Canon point-and-shoot (SD1200 IS) would fit the bill. Initially, I was quite happy with just ordering another Minolta Dimage X (or any of the newer versions in that series) but Colin pointed out that there's been a lot of development in digital cameras since I got my first one in 2003. I could have ordered it online and fretted about when it'd get here, but I wanted to test and play with it, especially since we were spending the weekend in Duluth. I'm quite happy with it, don't have any complaints so far and I've taken about 200 pictures.
Duluth was a whirlwind but, as always, it was great to see Colin's family. Sure, there's the drama of the extended family but I knew the "battlefield" and wasn't too affected. Finally got to meet Nina! She's quite the energetic tomboy and I got lots of shots of her goofing around with Colin. We had a boat tour along the shore Saturday. The weekend was cool and cloudy, with some short thunderstorms and rainshowers. Since India is going to be really hot and humid, Duluth wasn't helping us prepare for it. But then again, what the heck would? I spent a lot of time wrapped up in blankets and never took my sweatshirt off except when we were at Nana's in the tropical heat. I even slept with the bed electrically heated.
Most of my spare time has been spent reading, either online or print books, about India. We will be mostly in Hyderabad, which is not touted as a tourist city. It is also known as Cyberabad (cyber city); Colin will be working in an area where there are 80,000 other programmers. However, there are things to see and places to go in the area, it is known for its fabulous food, and we know we are going to spend time in at least Delhi and at the Taj Mahal on the weekends. I've skimmed a few guidebooks (Lonely Planet's is by far the best) and other non-fiction. I really enjoy reading "A Traveler's History of India" by Sinharaja Tammita-Delgoda but it's a library book and I'm planning on taking very little and mostly stuff I can leave behind. After all, stuff is cheap there and I have only clothes appropriate for northern US colder climate and society (shorts aren't worn in India). So my backpack is all I'm carrying. To India. For a month.
I'm constantly wondering, "What the heck am I doing?" The answer: Going off on an adventure (with the love of my life during monsoon season to the most foreign land I've been to yet that had never really been on my list of places to visit).
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Crap versus Quality
I just came home from the local library where I got to check things out for the first time! Quite excited to enjoy the books, with the topics being India and the origin of American English language (not in the same book). I had also picked up some DVDs which I hope Colin will like. Burn After Reading definitely, Pursuit of Happyness maybe, and The Darjeeling Limited? Probably not, but who knows? I seem to have a soft spot for picking up those movies with skeptical quality ...
I was catching up on my feeds, mostly of the library flavor, when I suddenly felt the urge to click on the tvguide.com browser tab. Now, why? Why, in the face of such treasures I'd been so excited about just moments before? Why, in the face of intriguing, career-related posts including news of the LOC trying out cloud storage?
So the fact that I'd been sitting reading for two hours about North Korea and then sampling a bunch of books could have something to do with it. Perhaps my mind desired some wandering and easy entertainment. Junk food instead of whole grains. No matter how yummy and good for me the grains are ... sometimes I just gotta have the stuff that is pretty much worthless for me.
This laziness, opting for the easier path with more immediate reward, is both beneficial and detrimental for humankind as evidenced by our ability to use brains to make tools and tasks easier and faster, and the abundance of quick-fix, get-rich, etc. promises. My philosophy for most things in life is simple: balance. This means watching an irresistable episode of NCIS (with a blurb mentioning a frozen guy coming back to life, could you resist?) while looking to do some dishes, read "Made in America: An Informal History of the English Language in the United States" ... that is, depending on when Colin is done at work for the day and I pick him up.
I was catching up on my feeds, mostly of the library flavor, when I suddenly felt the urge to click on the tvguide.com browser tab. Now, why? Why, in the face of such treasures I'd been so excited about just moments before? Why, in the face of intriguing, career-related posts including news of the LOC trying out cloud storage?
So the fact that I'd been sitting reading for two hours about North Korea and then sampling a bunch of books could have something to do with it. Perhaps my mind desired some wandering and easy entertainment. Junk food instead of whole grains. No matter how yummy and good for me the grains are ... sometimes I just gotta have the stuff that is pretty much worthless for me.
This laziness, opting for the easier path with more immediate reward, is both beneficial and detrimental for humankind as evidenced by our ability to use brains to make tools and tasks easier and faster, and the abundance of quick-fix, get-rich, etc. promises. My philosophy for most things in life is simple: balance. This means watching an irresistable episode of NCIS (with a blurb mentioning a frozen guy coming back to life, could you resist?) while looking to do some dishes, read "Made in America: An Informal History of the English Language in the United States" ... that is, depending on when Colin is done at work for the day and I pick him up.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Tales of Worms, Tadpoles, and a Rabbit
This is an extremely large post, and for that I apologize. I hope that the clean breaks help. I wrote two-thirds one day and then the remaining didn't get finished until six days later. I'm quickly (hopefully) relearning how to plan blogposts again. Of course, read any/all/none of wildlife stories as you wish, but my personal favorite is the bunny. I came across a cute overload today that makes me believe the bunny was much less than a week old.
Bucket of worms:
Among the crazy things that have happened over the last year, there have been a series of not-so-hidden attempts at keeping pets, starting with last year's tadpoles who had a happy ending. In August I decided to do more green things, so when I visited the Alworth family, they happily gave me a bucket of redworms for vermicomposting. I've grown up used to recycling and composting, but composting in a small apartment with no yard was a challenge I waited to tackle until I had some time to do research in the summer. I have always been amazed at how much "garbage" I manage to prevent from ending up in the trashcan. Still, I continue to be baffled at how to best take care of worms but since they've managed to live quite happily so far, I'm not too worried.
When I had to move out of my apartment, I tackled my worm bin, which had occupied space under the kitchen island for ten months. This turned out to be much harder and took longer than I'd anticipated, because it was more mud than dirt. I'd noticed the wet problem a couple weeks earlier but hadn't done anything with it (both because I was busy and didn't know quite what I was supposed to do). It was actually fun to spread it out on a plastic sheet on the kitchen floor and pick up clumps, finding a mass of squirming worms on the bottom (they get away from any light as fast as they can since it can kill them). These worms did just fine of a diet consisting mainly of eggshells (which you could still see chunks of) and coffee grounds. The mostly worm-free mud (it was impossible to get them all) I gave to Susan, who was happy to have it for her garden. The worms went north to Colin's new apartment in the bucket they came in many generations earlier.
Orphaned bunny:
Laura and Mom came to pick me up right after winter semester classes ended and we took a car trip to Georgia (this itself should be a separate post). They dropped me off in Bloomington the Sunday before my birthday. The next day, I decided to walk to campus. My internet wasn't working that day and I'd left my netbook cord in the last hotel we'd stayed at, so I was carrying my heavy laptop and it was hot. When I was almost to campus, I noticed something alive, pink, and squirming on the sidewalk. It took me awhile to figure out what it was; I realized it wouldn't survive if I left it, so I picked it up and a closer look at its ears confirmed that it was a very young bunny rabbit. It was less than a week old and I still can't fathom how it got where it was; there were no bushes or covering anywhere near it. Since I didn't have internet at home, I decided to try my luck at the library and pressed on, cupping the bunny in my hands to keep it as warm as I could. No one really seemed to have more than a passing interest in why I was holding my hands like that in front of me.
One of the benefits of being a library student, you get to know the people who work in the university libraries. So I walked up to the main desk and said to a classmate I'd had "Okay, don't freak out, but I have a baby bunny and I have no clue what to do with it." He and another guy cooed over it before suggesting I take it to the zoology department. I walked there but they weren't able to help at all (in fact, the guy who I ultimately talked to that was supposed to help said "oh we can't have those in here, get out" and wouldn't even give any suggestions).
Back at the main library, I looked online (while I hid the bunny in the roll of my shirt on my belly) and found out it's illegal to care for wild animals and very very hard to raise wild baby rabbits. There was an address and phone number for a wildlife rehabilitator so I went home and put the bunny in a box with a warm water bottle and a t-shirt, called the place, and then drove over to drop it off. They said it would have my name (they don't name their animals but distinguish them by the names of the people who bring them) yet it was too early to tell how it was doing. Online, I found out if it squirms, it is not too stressed but it is very easy for them to be stressed and they are very sensitive to it. Sometimes it just rested but many times it would wiggle to get closer to my hand for warmth or to just plain wiggle, especially when I had it in the box. I also know it wasn't severely dehydrated. So I was optimistic. However, I never did call to visit or find out about it; I want to think happy endings.
It was strange; I had very strong desire to protect it when I saw it. I vaguely thought about diseases and whatnot when I picked it up, but they were overwhelmed with what probably is a mothering instinct. And usually I don't find myself overly fond of rabbits. Young ones, like most furry babies, are really cute, but I never thought rabbits were nice and never wanted one as a pet. Also, I'm quite familiar with their notorious ability to breed plenty of offsprings. Even though not all of them make it to adulthood, they still manage to run rampant quite easily. So, while my reactions were not entirely surprising, their intensity was.
Tadpoles, version 2009:
Colin was visiting me the weekend before I went to Georgia and we decided to try our luck at raising tadpoles again. We went back to the same puddle and collected about 12 small ones. It seems really strange that they would be planted there; it's a very barren mud puddle is in a "parking lot" that gets a lot of traffic. We didn't collect any big ones because last year the biggest died very quickly and we figured if we can catch them when they're little we can make sure they're better nourished. Again, we had no clue what species they were; they could have been salamanders, even (http://thelivingclassroom.wordpress.com/2007/10/23/tadpoles-salamanders-tomato-tamato/). Since we (or rather, I) had named most of the ones last year after the seven dwarfs, this year I named them after Disney princesses. It was a fun challenge trying to come up with a dozen princesses, including Mulan and Pocahontas.
Since I was heading on a road trip, Colin took them home for the first couple of weeks. And the results were making him believe he was a horrible tadparent; they kept dying. I still suspect that there was some disease or other uncontrollable factor in play. Colin said, "Maybe we weeded out all the good tadpoles last year." Some of them were still alive when I visited him and took them home, but by Memorial Day weekend, we had one. In fact, there were two when I started north to get Colin on our way to Michigan City but the smaller one died in transit. The last one was the biggest, bigger than any of last year's, earning her the title "Princess Fiona." Her size is the leading clue that they were probably toads instead of treefrogs. But we'll never know because she died while we were at the McBrides' beach condo. Although somewhat discouraged, the emotions weren't as bad as when they first started dying. The whole story and how much was our "fault" will never be known but I, at least, am not completely discouraged from trying it again. I say "fault" because, remember, they were in a very poor location and had an extremely low chance of making it to healthy adulthood in the first place.
Bucket of worms:
Among the crazy things that have happened over the last year, there have been a series of not-so-hidden attempts at keeping pets, starting with last year's tadpoles who had a happy ending. In August I decided to do more green things, so when I visited the Alworth family, they happily gave me a bucket of redworms for vermicomposting. I've grown up used to recycling and composting, but composting in a small apartment with no yard was a challenge I waited to tackle until I had some time to do research in the summer. I have always been amazed at how much "garbage" I manage to prevent from ending up in the trashcan. Still, I continue to be baffled at how to best take care of worms but since they've managed to live quite happily so far, I'm not too worried.
When I had to move out of my apartment, I tackled my worm bin, which had occupied space under the kitchen island for ten months. This turned out to be much harder and took longer than I'd anticipated, because it was more mud than dirt. I'd noticed the wet problem a couple weeks earlier but hadn't done anything with it (both because I was busy and didn't know quite what I was supposed to do). It was actually fun to spread it out on a plastic sheet on the kitchen floor and pick up clumps, finding a mass of squirming worms on the bottom (they get away from any light as fast as they can since it can kill them). These worms did just fine of a diet consisting mainly of eggshells (which you could still see chunks of) and coffee grounds. The mostly worm-free mud (it was impossible to get them all) I gave to Susan, who was happy to have it for her garden. The worms went north to Colin's new apartment in the bucket they came in many generations earlier.
Orphaned bunny:
Laura and Mom came to pick me up right after winter semester classes ended and we took a car trip to Georgia (this itself should be a separate post). They dropped me off in Bloomington the Sunday before my birthday. The next day, I decided to walk to campus. My internet wasn't working that day and I'd left my netbook cord in the last hotel we'd stayed at, so I was carrying my heavy laptop and it was hot. When I was almost to campus, I noticed something alive, pink, and squirming on the sidewalk. It took me awhile to figure out what it was; I realized it wouldn't survive if I left it, so I picked it up and a closer look at its ears confirmed that it was a very young bunny rabbit. It was less than a week old and I still can't fathom how it got where it was; there were no bushes or covering anywhere near it. Since I didn't have internet at home, I decided to try my luck at the library and pressed on, cupping the bunny in my hands to keep it as warm as I could. No one really seemed to have more than a passing interest in why I was holding my hands like that in front of me.
One of the benefits of being a library student, you get to know the people who work in the university libraries. So I walked up to the main desk and said to a classmate I'd had "Okay, don't freak out, but I have a baby bunny and I have no clue what to do with it." He and another guy cooed over it before suggesting I take it to the zoology department. I walked there but they weren't able to help at all (in fact, the guy who I ultimately talked to that was supposed to help said "oh we can't have those in here, get out" and wouldn't even give any suggestions).
Back at the main library, I looked online (while I hid the bunny in the roll of my shirt on my belly) and found out it's illegal to care for wild animals and very very hard to raise wild baby rabbits. There was an address and phone number for a wildlife rehabilitator so I went home and put the bunny in a box with a warm water bottle and a t-shirt, called the place, and then drove over to drop it off. They said it would have my name (they don't name their animals but distinguish them by the names of the people who bring them) yet it was too early to tell how it was doing. Online, I found out if it squirms, it is not too stressed but it is very easy for them to be stressed and they are very sensitive to it. Sometimes it just rested but many times it would wiggle to get closer to my hand for warmth or to just plain wiggle, especially when I had it in the box. I also know it wasn't severely dehydrated. So I was optimistic. However, I never did call to visit or find out about it; I want to think happy endings.
It was strange; I had very strong desire to protect it when I saw it. I vaguely thought about diseases and whatnot when I picked it up, but they were overwhelmed with what probably is a mothering instinct. And usually I don't find myself overly fond of rabbits. Young ones, like most furry babies, are really cute, but I never thought rabbits were nice and never wanted one as a pet. Also, I'm quite familiar with their notorious ability to breed plenty of offsprings. Even though not all of them make it to adulthood, they still manage to run rampant quite easily. So, while my reactions were not entirely surprising, their intensity was.
Tadpoles, version 2009:
Colin was visiting me the weekend before I went to Georgia and we decided to try our luck at raising tadpoles again. We went back to the same puddle and collected about 12 small ones. It seems really strange that they would be planted there; it's a very barren mud puddle is in a "parking lot" that gets a lot of traffic. We didn't collect any big ones because last year the biggest died very quickly and we figured if we can catch them when they're little we can make sure they're better nourished. Again, we had no clue what species they were; they could have been salamanders, even (http://thelivingclassroom.wordpress.com/2007/10/23/tadpoles-salamanders-tomato-tamato/). Since we (or rather, I) had named most of the ones last year after the seven dwarfs, this year I named them after Disney princesses. It was a fun challenge trying to come up with a dozen princesses, including Mulan and Pocahontas.
Since I was heading on a road trip, Colin took them home for the first couple of weeks. And the results were making him believe he was a horrible tadparent; they kept dying. I still suspect that there was some disease or other uncontrollable factor in play. Colin said, "Maybe we weeded out all the good tadpoles last year." Some of them were still alive when I visited him and took them home, but by Memorial Day weekend, we had one. In fact, there were two when I started north to get Colin on our way to Michigan City but the smaller one died in transit. The last one was the biggest, bigger than any of last year's, earning her the title "Princess Fiona." Her size is the leading clue that they were probably toads instead of treefrogs. But we'll never know because she died while we were at the McBrides' beach condo. Although somewhat discouraged, the emotions weren't as bad as when they first started dying. The whole story and how much was our "fault" will never be known but I, at least, am not completely discouraged from trying it again. I say "fault" because, remember, they were in a very poor location and had an extremely low chance of making it to healthy adulthood in the first place.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Marmots of an undetermined species
Warning: I wrote this about three weeks ago but found it dry and long even for me, so I didn't want to feel guilty posting and boring people just when they are like "whoa! post from karen! finally!" So since I just posted a better first finally post, I don't feel as bad.
For those who decide TLDR: Basically I am talking about weird mammals I saw a year ago near my old apartment and how I couldn't figure out what they were. Probably marmots. There's also lots of librarian thoughts about trying to find out what it was.
Last summer was the first time I noticed a pair of strange furry creatures at a heritage farm called Hinkle-Garton Farm near my apartment complex. I saw them multiple times on my walk to and from school but never got a close-up view. I was surprised that any mammals larger than a rat would be living there; there are very busy roads, train tracks, and many buildings in the immediate vicinity. For me, it's similar to seeing a turkey downtown. Colin joked I that I must be making them up, until he saw them himself.
I wasn't sure what they were - pictures online of woodchucks and prairie dogs didn't look right. I'm familiar with beavers and felt certain they were not those; this was confirmed when I spotted the decidedly skinny furry tail. I was fairly confident they wasn't any other aquatic mammal such as muskrats. Further Google image searching led me astray to wild ideas such as the nutria (eradicated a few decades ago from Indiana) and capybara (found only in Central and South Americas).
The one trait that was unique was the shape of their heads. It's not at all like the round ones found in the pictures of woodchucks but much more like the angular ones of the capybara. I discovered the woodchuck is a type of marmot and felt like I was getting somewhere when I saw pictures of other marmot species with the right head shapes. However, I only found instances of high mountain-dwelling types.
There is a library-related tangent to this post topic beyond mapping a research attempt: the value of niceness. One surprisingly helpful resource was Yahoo answers, which I've bumped into many times in other research. The particular page was started with a person who seems dumb since he/she was wondering if it was a capybara and hadn't been able to find information online. This earned him/her ridicule from some people who answered but the best answer gave conducive guidance. I wouldn't be surprised if this person was a public librarian; no matter what you think of the person asking you the question or the question itself, your goal is always to give them the answers they're looking for (which is commonly not the direct answer to their question, but found through what librarians call "reference interviews" since people frequently don't know exactly what they're looking for, even if they think they do). Being nice and helping people who ask for your help is not only common courtesy but a habit that benefits everyone. Seth Godin (who writes blog posts much more frequently than I do) stresses the value of niceness:
If I'm arguing only for my personal gain, I would have had a harder time searching for the answer to my very similar inquiry if the person hadn't answered.
The search of the elusive furry neighbors remains inconclusive, but I'm happy (for now) to call them "marmots of an undetermined species".
For those who decide TLDR: Basically I am talking about weird mammals I saw a year ago near my old apartment and how I couldn't figure out what they were. Probably marmots. There's also lots of librarian thoughts about trying to find out what it was.
Last summer was the first time I noticed a pair of strange furry creatures at a heritage farm called Hinkle-Garton Farm near my apartment complex. I saw them multiple times on my walk to and from school but never got a close-up view. I was surprised that any mammals larger than a rat would be living there; there are very busy roads, train tracks, and many buildings in the immediate vicinity. For me, it's similar to seeing a turkey downtown. Colin joked I that I must be making them up, until he saw them himself.
I wasn't sure what they were - pictures online of woodchucks and prairie dogs didn't look right. I'm familiar with beavers and felt certain they were not those; this was confirmed when I spotted the decidedly skinny furry tail. I was fairly confident they wasn't any other aquatic mammal such as muskrats. Further Google image searching led me astray to wild ideas such as the nutria (eradicated a few decades ago from Indiana) and capybara (found only in Central and South Americas).
The one trait that was unique was the shape of their heads. It's not at all like the round ones found in the pictures of woodchucks but much more like the angular ones of the capybara. I discovered the woodchuck is a type of marmot and felt like I was getting somewhere when I saw pictures of other marmot species with the right head shapes. However, I only found instances of high mountain-dwelling types.
There is a library-related tangent to this post topic beyond mapping a research attempt: the value of niceness. One surprisingly helpful resource was Yahoo answers, which I've bumped into many times in other research. The particular page was started with a person who seems dumb since he/she was wondering if it was a capybara and hadn't been able to find information online. This earned him/her ridicule from some people who answered but the best answer gave conducive guidance. I wouldn't be surprised if this person was a public librarian; no matter what you think of the person asking you the question or the question itself, your goal is always to give them the answers they're looking for (which is commonly not the direct answer to their question, but found through what librarians call "reference interviews" since people frequently don't know exactly what they're looking for, even if they think they do). Being nice and helping people who ask for your help is not only common courtesy but a habit that benefits everyone. Seth Godin (who writes blog posts much more frequently than I do) stresses the value of niceness:
it doesn't matter who's "right". What matters is that giving people the benefit of the doubt and treating them with respect is not only more fun, it works better too.
If I'm arguing only for my personal gain, I would have had a harder time searching for the answer to my very similar inquiry if the person hadn't answered.
The search of the elusive furry neighbors remains inconclusive, but I'm happy (for now) to call them "marmots of an undetermined species".
New places, new dramas
So finally summer vacation is here! I just finished the final project for my summer class this afternoon. Scary to think it's the last, but I think it's mainly because change of any kind tends to be at least a little scary. And it's gonna be short - 7 weeks left, I read in the Indiana Daily Student this week.
Lots of changes have been happening, including officially moving into my new room across town yesterday (I actually first slept here two days before that). Fountain Park, the big ginornous apartment complex, told me I couldn't live there for only six months. Twelve, maybe ten, but not six! Even though they happily let me move in with a signed six-months' lease in the first place. So started a long arduous journey to find another place to set up my stuff for the last semester of grad school. Lots of trawling through ads, craigslist, and campus site for housing. It'd be fun to count all the emails I sent and either didn't get a response or they replied with a "no." Not really.
There was a house with a room for only the fall semester. Perfect, even very close to campus. I even went to check it out. Problem was that right then I was waiting to hear if I had landed a dream summer internship at Yellowstone NP (I didn't get it). I was told I'd be called if the other person moved forward on the offer. The next week, when I finally got the Yellowstone response, I emailed back and found out that the other person had grabbed it up the day after I was there. I did have misgivings about the extremely small kitchen for five girls (most undergrads), but I was gonna take anything except frat/sorority crap at this point.
Another offer was a guy who was looking for roommates but he didn't currently live in Bloomington. I still don't know where he actually was living, but his job was going to relocate him here and he was always running around on business trips and it was hard to get ahold of him. I did meet up with him and liked him but the house was not a done deal; it turned out the people who lived there (and owned the house) didn't actually know if they were going to rent it out. In the end, they didn't and I wished the guy good luck.
At the same time, I was juggling an offer from a recent SLIS alumnus, Duane. Turned out we had been there together last winter before he graduated but apparently never really met. He was info sci not library sci, so really not a surprise. His house was outside of the city limits, about five miles from campus, but the price was right and he was willing to let me stay there for just six months (after I offered to pay two extra months' rent, which is a deal at this point). The previous roomie had moved out abruptly and he wanted to keep up with his mortgage payments. So here I am, living with two guys.
Oh, and neither are Duane. I have yet to meet him in person; he's got a job in England. The two others are Robbie and Chris, both journalism majors (Chris undergrad, Robbie is working on his master's). Robbie also has a teenaged son, Tim, who is hanging around for the summer. The two of them plus Duane's ten-year-old dog Hank spend most of the time on a boat. I still think it's weird, being so into sailing and living here. All the lakes bigger than a pond are man-made and are or were the city's reservoirs. Lake Monroe, the biggest, is fairly large but it's still smaller than Lake Charlevoix. There's another unofficial housemate, Ray, who acts like he owns the place ... I don't understand the whole situation, but Robbie allowed sailing people to stay in his master bedroom and Ray just hasn't exactly left since he was first here two months ago. He isn't here every night but I don't really care for him. Apparently he has a girlfriend that I know was here last night but I only saw her car and flip flops as evidence.
I bump into Chris the most. He likes to talk and although he has very different views and opinions, I certainly don't mind listening. He usually sits in the middle of the big couch with his laptop and tv on. Since he saw the new Star Trek movie, he's been watching a lot of episodes. Between Whitney, Colin, and Chris, I'm feeling my disinterest (not dislike) won't survive much longer...
I don't plan on staying away as long this time, but things never go according to plans. (Do you ever wonder if we just planned for the opposite of what we want to happen, things would end up going the way we want?)
Lots of changes have been happening, including officially moving into my new room across town yesterday (I actually first slept here two days before that). Fountain Park, the big ginornous apartment complex, told me I couldn't live there for only six months. Twelve, maybe ten, but not six! Even though they happily let me move in with a signed six-months' lease in the first place. So started a long arduous journey to find another place to set up my stuff for the last semester of grad school. Lots of trawling through ads, craigslist, and campus site for housing. It'd be fun to count all the emails I sent and either didn't get a response or they replied with a "no." Not really.
There was a house with a room for only the fall semester. Perfect, even very close to campus. I even went to check it out. Problem was that right then I was waiting to hear if I had landed a dream summer internship at Yellowstone NP (I didn't get it). I was told I'd be called if the other person moved forward on the offer. The next week, when I finally got the Yellowstone response, I emailed back and found out that the other person had grabbed it up the day after I was there. I did have misgivings about the extremely small kitchen for five girls (most undergrads), but I was gonna take anything except frat/sorority crap at this point.
Another offer was a guy who was looking for roommates but he didn't currently live in Bloomington. I still don't know where he actually was living, but his job was going to relocate him here and he was always running around on business trips and it was hard to get ahold of him. I did meet up with him and liked him but the house was not a done deal; it turned out the people who lived there (and owned the house) didn't actually know if they were going to rent it out. In the end, they didn't and I wished the guy good luck.
At the same time, I was juggling an offer from a recent SLIS alumnus, Duane. Turned out we had been there together last winter before he graduated but apparently never really met. He was info sci not library sci, so really not a surprise. His house was outside of the city limits, about five miles from campus, but the price was right and he was willing to let me stay there for just six months (after I offered to pay two extra months' rent, which is a deal at this point). The previous roomie had moved out abruptly and he wanted to keep up with his mortgage payments. So here I am, living with two guys.
Oh, and neither are Duane. I have yet to meet him in person; he's got a job in England. The two others are Robbie and Chris, both journalism majors (Chris undergrad, Robbie is working on his master's). Robbie also has a teenaged son, Tim, who is hanging around for the summer. The two of them plus Duane's ten-year-old dog Hank spend most of the time on a boat. I still think it's weird, being so into sailing and living here. All the lakes bigger than a pond are man-made and are or were the city's reservoirs. Lake Monroe, the biggest, is fairly large but it's still smaller than Lake Charlevoix. There's another unofficial housemate, Ray, who acts like he owns the place ... I don't understand the whole situation, but Robbie allowed sailing people to stay in his master bedroom and Ray just hasn't exactly left since he was first here two months ago. He isn't here every night but I don't really care for him. Apparently he has a girlfriend that I know was here last night but I only saw her car and flip flops as evidence.
I bump into Chris the most. He likes to talk and although he has very different views and opinions, I certainly don't mind listening. He usually sits in the middle of the big couch with his laptop and tv on. Since he saw the new Star Trek movie, he's been watching a lot of episodes. Between Whitney, Colin, and Chris, I'm feeling my disinterest (not dislike) won't survive much longer...
I don't plan on staying away as long this time, but things never go according to plans. (Do you ever wonder if we just planned for the opposite of what we want to happen, things would end up going the way we want?)
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