Washing the gray right outta my hair

Today was the day I got rid of all the gray hair that India has given me.  Thanks India, but no thanks.  I don't know if you remember but back in January my hair was falling out in handfuls.  Luckily it stopped after 6 weeks.  I gave it time to grow back so today I thought it was high time to make a visit to a local salon for a cut and color.  The place came friend recommended and we were actually there last week with Glen as my guinea pig.  They did a pretty good job with him so I thought I'd go for it.  With much trepidation I sat in the barber's chair and rattled off a list of my worries.  "Please don't chop off too much, I'm getting married in July and want my hair longish.  I don't want my hair to fall out.  I don't want you to turn my hair red or orange".  You know, the usual requests.  Fortunately all turned out well, the gray is gone, my hair is a little lighter and healthier and I am much more happy.  For 50 bucks you can't beat that!  


The funniest bit about the whole thing is that the salon was so crowded.  Not necessarily of customers but mostly employees.  There is a guy for e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g!  There was one guy to cut and color my hair but there was another guy to brush my hair, another guy to wash my hair, another guy to blow dry my hair while yet a another guy was drying/styling my hair, another guy to bring me some water, and another guy to bring me tea.  Oh my goodness how do you leave a tip?!!!  If there were only more guys at the post office, one could be a stamp licker....THAT would make me a happy camper!  (see post below)

New meaning of 'Going Postal'

What was intended to be a quick trip to the post office ended up being a half an hour of chaos.  See, people don't queue in line here...they push and shove and demand to be served immediately.  Unfortunately, this has rubbed off on me and instead of being the patient person I once was, I am now aggressive in line determined not to let anybody get in front of me.  Elbows out, eyes alert, stand firm.  After finally being acknowledged by the post office worker at the counter he weighs one of my packages, gives it back, then goes to help someone else at the other end of the counter.  He comes back a few minutes later, weighs my other package and gives it back, with no indication of how much this is going to cost.  Patiently, I wait as he goes to help yet another customer at another counter.  This may seem strange to you but it is the norm here.  After waiting 5 or so minutes, my driver takes my packages to the other counter where we wait again.  Then finally the guy returns and tells me how much it is going to cost.  Great!  I get my rupees out and hand them over, however, I find that he just isn't ready to accept my money.  Wait again.  A few minutes later he is ready to take my money.  I wait a few minutes more for postage stamps.  Almost 50 of them!  To be plastered across the entire box!  Are you freaking kidding me?  There's got to be a better way.  Oh there is...but Indians don't know a freaking thing about efficiency.  I'm over generalizing here but find that this is just another thing that aggravates me about this country.  Another thing that I end up shaking my head at and smiling about.  Not so much grateful for the experience but appreciative of the way things are done back home.  Did I mention that I had to go to another counter where I had to take a glue bottle and paste all the stamps on myself???  Did I also mention that nobody will be getting Christmas presents this year from India???

  

Masochism

It's really hard to retell the experience here.  I don't even know what I really want to say right now.  Anything and everything I come up with feels so inadequate.  You really have to come see it and experience it for yourself.  Glen's lovely mum is the only one that has an idea.  I want to write something meaningful but I find all that comes to mind is blase boring shit.  There is so much about India that I don't know and never will.  Expats here either love it or hate it.  People pay tons of money to come to this spiritual land to 'find themselves'.  And I'm here.  Living it.  Doing it.  But I don't feel the least bit enlightened.  Grown, sure but not enlightened.  I am in awe.  I am in disgust.  I am ambivalent.  I am inspired.  I am pissed.  I don't care.  I want more.  There was life before India, which was easy and I knew how to do it.  Then there is life in India and instead of resisting it I am learning to let go and be a part of it.  No matter how you look at it, India changes you.  She breaks you down and makes you learn another way and I'm just trusting the experience....however hellish it might feel sometimes.  I don't have a whole lot more to add in terms of reflection, analysis, story, or narrative so I'll just share with you a few new things India... 



~ the power outages, they don't stop.  Not even when you are blow drying your hair.


~ the honking doesn't stop


~ the cows!  I haven't gotten used to them walking in the middle of the road.


~ the poverty.  At almost every traffic light there is someone banging on my car window begging for money.  You're not supposed to give them money but today I did...to a man that had obviously lost his entire arm.  It made me so sad.

~  when relaying numbers, instead of saying 88OO (eight eight zero zero), I now say double eight, double zero etc.


~ when crossing the street it is necessary to say a short prayer and then count your toes after you've successfully made it across...it's like taking life into your own hands


~ instead of moving house or offices, people shift houses or offices.  Glen shifted offices a few weeks ago


~ I go to yoga, come home and my house is clean.  It's MAGIC!  


~  When you are trying to get information from someone or try to understand what they want you say "tell me".  


~ you cannot leave voicemail here which is a curse and a blessing.  I have become a mad texter  (or would that be sms-er?)


~  oh and it's already 108 degrees F (42 degrees C).  Yuck.


Yes, I'll admit it was my crazy idea to come here and I will also say I don't regret it.  I'm just living it and learning to let go.  You discover who you are when you're real far from home.  Love it or hate it.  

Tashi Deley!

Mt. Everest

Tashi Deley is a greeting in the small villages in the mountains of Nepal past Lukla.  It's been a while since I posted and I promise to write more things about India soon but I need to get this post out of the way!  For our birthdays this year we booked a trekking trip in the Nepal Himalayas.  We didn't have any training, we didn't have many expectations except to hopefully catch a glimpse of Mt. Everest.  We certainly didn't expect to get diarrhea (our tummies finally got used to living in Delhi!), we didn't expect to get altitude sickness, we didn't expect a horrendous 7 hour uphill climb on only our 2nd day.  But we also didn't expect being held captive of the beauty of the mountains which are like no other place on earth.  We also didn't expect such a rewarding feeling of accomplishment at the end of the 7 day trek.

The tiniest runway ever!

Start of our trek.  We had no idea what we were in for!

Adrenaline inducing suspension bridge

Not acclimatizing well

Don't talk to me

Nepali children

Our 5 ft. porter carrying 3 loads

Steering clear!

Handsome hiker

Miserable

Uphill

Wilderness

Stupa

Ama Dablam

Om Mani Padme Hum

Tamserku

Nepali cuties

Everest, Nuptse, Ama Dablam (l-r)

Above Namche Bazaar

We made it thanks to Ranjan!

Best birthday!  Ok 2nd best birthday.

Why can't people get a one syllable name right???