Children's Day Performance

My apologies for being so negligent with this blog. My only excuse is that there have been so many things happening that I've been overwhelmed by how much I need to post! So, to come will be postings on Durga Puja, Diwali, Halloween, a trip to Taki, and my birthday (whew!) but for now, I thought you'd all like to see the performance I did for Children's Day at my school. While Teachers' Day is celebrated on the birthday of India's second president, Children's Day is celebrated on the birthday (November 14) of India's first prime minister, Jawaharlal Nehru. I was told by one of the teachers that the kids were expecting me to perform something so I thought I'd give them what they've been asking for from the first day, a dance. The muses were smiling upon me because almost instantly, I could hear the music I wanted to dance to in my head: a mash up of the Bhangra song, Aye Jatt, the latest Bollywood hit, Chammak Challo, and the song my students have requested me to sing the most, Justin Bieber's Baby. I was the opening act for the day's performances and even though there were several places where my mind failed and improvisation was necessary, the reaction of the student's was even better than imagined. They clapped along, sang along, and cheered when they noticed I incorporated the signature Chammak Challo move into my Bhangra choreography. For the rest of the day, whenever I left the sanctity of the teachers' corner, I was swarmed by kids saying how much they liked the dance, sentiments that made the newly opened blisters on my feet well worth it :-)

Two Months of Travel

I finally uploaded my photos, gathered my thoughts, and here it is, the long awaited post about my recent travels.

Puri, Orissa - August 20-21

Our first trip out of Kolkata was to the beach town Puri in Orissa, the state southwest of West Bengal. We took a night train but because we purchased the tickets last minute, Sarah and I ended up sharing a bunk which meant sleeping sitting up all night. Surprisingly, it wasn't as uncomfortable as I thought it would be! Once arriving in Puri, we checked into our hostel and headed straight for the beach. The life guards there wear white, dunce-cap-like hats and hold hands with "swimmers" as the waves crash upon them to make sure they don't drown. I didn't venture into the bay but instead spent my time sipping coconut water safely in the shade.

The next day we visited the 700 year old Konark Sun Temple which was so much more than the erotic carvings for which it's known; there were carvings of dances from all over India, influences from countries in Africa and Asia, and depictions of everyday life. While the temple was obviously the main attraction, at times we couldn't help but feel like we were a close second, with people asking us for photos at every turn or simply snapping away without asking for permission. It's a position we often find ourselves in and our answer completely depends on the situation. In this case, we turned down everyone who asked because had we said yes, we would have been swarmed. In other situations, though, when there are less people around, we're more likely to say yes. Another factor is who's doing the asking; being asked by a teenage boy or single adult male is completely different than being asked by a child or family.

After Konark, we went shopping for crafts at a nearby town and then at Raghurajpur, an artisan village. When we drove up to the village, every shop owner/artist came out of his store beckoning us to visit. The process was repeated whenever we exited a shop. With 10-15 shops, it was a bit overwhelming. The art form most prevalent in this community is patachitra, an extremely detailed and intricate style of painting. Each artist would show us hundreds of pieces, each one different from the other which made it incredibly difficult to choose. I could have easily bought ten but was somehow able to limit myself to three :-)

For more pictures, click here

Bishnupur, West Bengal - August 28-29

Our second trip was arranged and led by our Bangla teacher, Protimadi. We visited Bishnupur, a temple city west of Kolkata. The two-day trip included visits to nine temples, one canon, two artisan villages, and a sari factory. One memorable moment happened at Radhashtan Temple. We had just finished looking around and were sipping tea in the car when all of the sudden, I saw about five monkeys jump seemingly from nowhere onto the temple wall. I screamed, "Monkeys!!!" and we hurried out to see them. However, these monkeys were huge and they kept coming. I could hear their strength as they leapt over the rooftops and have to admit that even I, someone who has always liked my primate cousins, was a bit scared.

The first village we visited was Dighna where they make brass sculptures called dokra. The artisans first sculpt the figures in wax, making a mold onto which they place the brass. When we visited, they were busy making some cute, fist-sized owls. When we were done with our purchases there, we then went to a terracotta artisan village called Panchmura where the artist was sculpting huge figures in preparation for the upcoming Durga Puja (more on that later!).

Lastly, we visited a sari shop where we saw the inner workings of the factory. To weave the designs, they use cards with wholes in them, reminding me of the old punch cards for computers that, while I've never seen, have been told once existed ;-) It was a very complicated system that I couldn't wrap my mind around and made me appreciate even more the Bishnupuri sari I ended up buying.

For more pictures, click here

Himachal Pradesh - September 10-19

Our longest trip so far was to Himachal Pradesh, the second most northern state in the country. We began by taking a night bus from Delhi to Manali but, due to a landslide, our bus didn't make it to our destination. After being stuck for five hours on the outskirts of a town, the family on whose porch we sough refuge from the sun kindly called a cab for us and our new friend from France. When we finally arrived at Mountain Dew Guesthouse, our first task was to find breakfast, which we did at the Moon Dance Restaurant. We then visited a tourist office to arrange a three day trek in the Chandrakhani pass of the Himalayas and after doing that, visited some temples and sipped some tea.

The next day, we left for our trek and after a long, muddy, winding road, we piled out of the truck only to look up and see two men had been riding on top the entire time along with our supplies! They were two of the three Nepali supermen whom carried our tents and food. Even though they were stick thin, carried two to three times the weight we carried and had less than ideal footwear (one was in flip flops), they hiked at least twice as fast as us. The first day was 2 1/2 hours of hiking straight up and the entire time I was regretting the decision to go. While I was in shape before leaving for India, the prevalence of sweets and energy-sapping humidity in Kolkata have left me soft after three months. Needless to say, I was relieved when we reached camp, even if it was overrun by cows by the end of the night.

The second day of the trek, we started off with a morning stretch and a huge breakfast (I was never hungry on the three day journey!). This was the most rewarding of the days, hiking in the clouds, seeing horses along the way, and having tea in the hut of a strikingly beautiful young couple and their son.

Day three was by far the hardest of the days. After about an hour hike to the peak of our trek, we had to start the journey down, a journey my legs were definitely not up for. By lunch time, I had two jello sticks supporting my weight and so often resorted to simply sitting down and sliding. Being so close to the end also made it mentally difficult because we were never quiet as close as it seemed. The trail took us through Malana, an isolated village whose inhabitants considers non-Malanas untouchable and therefore have many rules for non-Malana visitors, such as no touching buildings or people. When we finally ended our hike, words cannot describe the relief I felt, both physical and mental!

Our next leg of the journey was another night bus, this time to Mcleodganj, the home of the Dalai Lama in exile. While not a particularly hilly place, our trek caught up to us and every step we came to in this Tibetan flavored town might as well have been Mt. Everest. The icing on the top of the cake was when Julie and I went to a meditation class. The teacher met us near his place so he could show us the way which ended up being 10-15 minutes of climbing stairs, and I'm not exaggerating. Sore muscles aside, Mcleodganj was an amazing place that had a completely different feel than any other place we've visited so far. It rained just about every day we were there which was actually quiet welcome because that, along with the cold air, gave me the autumn I've been missing.

Lastly, we took yet another night bus to Shimla, a hill station and once winter home of the British Raj. Let me emphasize "hill." The town recreated our trek in the Himalayas so our poor legs did not get any rest. Because I was only there for one day and was trying to give my legs as much rest as possible, I didn't see the huge Hanuman (the monkey god) statue that overlooks the town and just tried to relax a bit. And it worked! By the time I got back to Kolkata, my legs were recovered and I didn't have to hobble into class the next day :-)

For more pictures, click here

Teachers' Day

First of all, apologies for my recent absence. I've been trying to recover from a virus that my doctor determined was cause by being bitten from a critter very common in West Bengal...the travel bug. It probably happened when I escaped to the beaches of Puri three weeks ago and it only got worse when, the next week, I visited the temples of Bishnupur. I've been told that fresh, mountain air might cure me so now I'm off to Himachal Pradesh for the next 10 days. But have no fear, this is not a lethal disease. It merely makes it very difficult to sit in front of the computer, sorting through hundreds of photos, deciding which adventures to share, especially when what little energy I do have has to go into lesson planning for the 500 students I see every week...and into planning my next trip :-)

I promise to blog about my trips soon but for now, I'd like to share the highlight of my week, Teachers' Day. Celebrated on September 5 in honor of Dr. Sarvepalli Radhakrishna, an educator and the second president of India, it's a day for students to honor and show thanks for their teachers. At my school, we had a special assembly in the morning where different student groups sang songs and performed dances and where the 12th grade students, dressed in sarees and suits as opposed to their normal blue and white uniforms, were given the responsibility to teach the younger students for the day.

When the assembly was over, I went to the staff lounge with the rest of the teachers and was soon greeted by student after student bearing cards, flowers and pens. Some of the students touched my feet out which I found very endearing but, not having experienced that before, wasn't sure how to respond. While I observed other teachers touching the childrens' heads, whenever I tried to do so, I could never get the timing right; I would either inadvertently "bless" them with way too much force or I would miss them completely. Ah the joys of learning the social etiquette of a new culture! I'm sure by the end of my time here, though, I'll find the blessed sweet spot.

After the parade of gifts, I went to one of my 8th grade classes for a special program they put together for all of their teachers. They had singing, a skit, a harmonium and guitar performance, a dance performance, and of course, food. After that, there was more food in the staff lounge: luchi (a fried bread also known as puri), a spicy potato dish, and mishti (sweets). The afternoon was taken up with a cricket match between the 12th grade and a team made up of both 11th graders and teachers. I watched the game with a group of my students and we had so much fun! I taught them a song I learned in Campfire (Wadaliacha) they taught me the first words of the Indian national anthem (Jana gana mana adhinayaka jaya he was all I could manage), we told each other jokes, and basically paid no attention whatsoever to the game. Well, until the ball came flying toward us, that is. Then we looked up for a couple of seconds before going back to chatting. While I would have liked to cheer on my friends on the field, I was so glad to finally get to talk to my students on a more personal level. It was a great end to a great Teachers' Day.

The Wait Is Over

I remember the night very clearly. It was a Sunday in September and I was talking on the phone to my friend Reshama. We were both feeling the need to escape at that particular point in time and she threw out the idea that we go to India for a couple of months. While the suggestion seemed too spontaneous for this practical Pam, part of it spoke to me and as oon as we hung up I decided to see if Fulbright had any programs in India (I had looked on their sight in the past for programs in Spanish-speaking countries but my language skills weren’t quite at the level that was required). That’s when I happened upon the English Teaching Assistantship and with each sentence I read, my heart beat a bit faster; my experiences and future goals coincided almost perfectly with their requirements. I spent the next five weeks writing essays, gathering transcripts, and requesting references. On October 18, 2010 I hit the send button and the waiting began. On August 1, 2011 I stepped through the gates of Kendriya Vidyalaya, Salt Lake No.2 as an English Teaching Assistant and the waiting was over.

My eight months at Kendriya Vidyalaya, Salt Lake No. 2 started quiet memorably at the school’s morning assembly. Besides the usual announcements, singing of the national anthem, and a prayer, there was also a special section welcoming me to the school; an adorable four or five year old girl, dressed in yellow and adorned with gold, presented me with a yellow rose before performing a classical Indian dance; a girl who was probably around 12 years old welcomed me to the school with an eloquent (and memorized!) speech; the principal presented me with a copy of Rabindranath Tagore’s Gitanjali; and, the most touching part for me was when one of their highly talented music students sang Tagore’s Ami Chini Go Chini, whose first two lines, roughly translated, are I know you, I so know you, O lady of the foreign land. Needless to say, the first 25 minutes of school made quite an impression.

There are so many stories and reflections I could share about my first two weeks at the school but I’ll just give some highlights:

Friendship Day: While Friendship Day is officially the first Sunday of August, it seemed to be a weeklong event at my school. I received my first friendship band on August 2 and my last on August 8. In all, I racked up a grand total of 7 bracelets plus one cup of Fanta. Not too bad! When I asked one of the teachers where Friendship Day came from, she said the U.S. but, having never heard of it, decided to turn to my trusty pal, Wikipedia. And sure enough, it was started in the U.S. by none other than Hallmark! That’s right, folks. It’s a Hallmark holiday. It only lasted about twenty years in the States, from 1919 to the 1940s, but now it’s very popular all throughout Asia and South America.

Tiffin Time: I made quite a stir my second day at school when I brought daal and bhat (lentils and rice) to eat during lunch. All the teachers looked at me with shock and awe, wondering how I could have learned to make such an Indian dish. One of the teachers even pinched my daal-and-bhat-filled cheeks, as she exclaimed, “You’re turning Indian!” Of course, if she had tasted my so-called authentic Indian dish, she might have revoked that statement. It’s so nice to have at least those 30 minutes every day to socialize with the teachers. Sometimes I sit there, listening to their lively Bangla conversations, trying to pick out a word here or there; other times we talk about the best places to shop for food or clothes. They’ve given me recipes, advised me on the best way to get to South City Mall, told me where to take dance classes…basically, any question I have I can put before the teachers and someone will have an answer. They’re my Google!

Kheer: The teaching highlight of my first week was in one of my 8th grade classes during an activity about general and specific. I had divided the class into groups based on their interests and each group was supposed to present to the class four to five detailed descriptions or facts about their topic. The second group that went was made up of three girls and their topic was food, specifically the Indian rice pudding called kheer. I was not prepared for what followed. First, rather than one person giving their sentence of introduction, they alternated, each saying one word of the sentence. Then, each girl gave a description fit for The Joy of Cooking Indian Food of the ingredients needed, cooking instructions, and possible variations for the dish. I can only imagine what they would have presented if I had given them more than the 15 minutes I allotted for the activity!

Learning about teaching: The biggest realization I had this week was how much this experience is going to prepare me for being a teacher. When I enter graduate school next summer, I’ll have had nine months of learning ways to manage a classroom of 40 energetic students, of altering lessons on the spot to fit the needs of a class, of experimenting with activities to see what does and doesn’t work in a large classroom setting. While I knew I would learn a lot from being an ETA, after the first week I realized just how much “a lot” will be.

Last Day of Bangla Class

Here are all the girls who were taking Bangla lessons this summer at the American Institute for Indian Studies along with four of our teachers.

Victoria Memorial and Hooghly River

Our first two weekends in Kolkata were filled with orientation activities and settling into our new places so the four other ETAs and I decided we had better see at least some of the city before we began teaching. So, two weekends ago, we decided to go to south Kolkata to visit the impressive Victoria Memorial which was dedicated to Queen Victoria, the Empress of India, by the British in 1921, 20 years after her death.>Walking onto the well-manicured grounds, we were transported into another time and it was easy to forget we were in a large, bustling city. The memorial hall itself is now a museum, with every wall filled with photographs, engravings, and artwork that tells the story of Kolkata and some of her best known inhabitants. We tried to get a photograph of all of us in front of the memorial but the three people we asked turned us down, either because they didn't understand or they didn't want to get up from their bench. Oh well. On the way to the memorial, we also came across the Maidan (see third photo on left) which, at five square kilometers, is the largest open field in Kolkata. We had to be careful where we stepped, though, because in the area we were walking through, horses outnumbered people.

Last weekend, we visited the Hooghly (or Hugli) River, an arm of the Ganges. It's located quite a ways away from Salt Lake so to get there we had to take a bus, an auto, and the metro, followed by a 30-45 minute walk. It being a particularly hot and humid day, the shaded stairs that went down to the river were a welcome sight. They were also, however, a welcome sight to all the kids in the area who were playing in the river but who quickly jumped out upon seeing the arrival of five sweaty, American women. They all started talking to us at once in a mixture of Hindi, English, and Bangla, commenting on our red cheeks and immediately wanting their pictures taken. As we were taking pictures of them, their parents were taking pictures of us. Then, when we asked about taking a boat to the other side, the children eagerly took us by the hands and pulled us to the dock just a short distance down the road. It was an experience unlike any I have had before. In the center of the city, we are stared at but this level of outward curiosity is just not shown. When it was time to leave (this time in a cab) the children put their hands out to ours in the ASL sign for "I Love You", which I copied and then touched my fingers to theirs. I don't know what possessed me to do so except that I assumed it was a greeting of some sort. In any case, they were thrilled when I did it so I must have done it right...whatever it was!

Magic Words

When we first started our Bangla lessons two weeks ago, I assumed communication would be the primary benefit. However, at least up to this point, most everyone I’ve interacted with knows enough English to facilitate communication and if they don’t, there’s always someone nearby eager to help translate my words or my accent. While I’m very much looking forward to being able to communicate in Bangla, so far I think the primary benefit of learning to speak the language is not the exchange of information but the connections that are formed with people. When I was going shopping for a kurta (long tunic) on Wednesday and described one of the pieces the saleswoman showed me as shundor (pretty), her eyes lit up and she started giggling. We started speaking to each other in broken English and broken Bangla as she asked about what brought me to Kolkata and as I asked her for fashion advice. Earlier that night, a similar exchange happened at an amazing Bengali restaurant, Bhojohori Manna. There, the staff were eager to recommend dishes, happy to de-shell the chingri (jumbo prawns), and all hoped we would abar achen (come again). As with the saleswoman, once we started using Bangla, their faces lit up and they started asking us questions and teaching us words. They were such amazing interactions and they’ve made me even more determined to become conversant in Bangla before I leave. If just a few words could have such a huge effect, imagine what a complete sentence could do!

Settling In

My home for the year!

The view from the balcony

I’m slowly but surely settling in to my new life in Kolkata.Julie, Sarah, and I moved into our apartment on Wednesday morning, registered at the FRRO that afternoon, and managed to navigate the city in the midst of a transportation strike to arrive on time to our Bangla class on Thursday morning. While taking public transportation is always an adventure, one which I plan to blog about later, I would say getting to the FRRO was the adventure of the week. What is FRRO, you ask? Well, to put it simply, foreigners who will be in India for more than 6 months are required to register at the Foreign Regional Registration Office within 14 days of arriving in the country. You can’t leave the country without this registration so unless you want to register late and pay a heavy fine, it’s best to get it done as soon as possible. Although there was an FRRO right next to the hotel we stayed in last week, the office for Salt Lake (the area of Kolkata in which we live) was pretty far out of the city so we were driven by Sumanta (our program coordinator), a colleague of his, and our facilitator, Oisharjya. 

A different view from the balcony

What should have been an inconvenient 45 minute drive turned into an unbearable 90 minute
drive because our driver made a wrong turn. 
Then, when we finally arrived at the FRRO, we
were greeted with boarded up windows and a locked door. The office had moved. Sumanta’s colleague was able to ask around to find out the new location of the FRRO and about 20 minutes later, we arrived. The process itself was painless. We filled out one form, gave them all sorts of paperwork and some passport photos, waited awhile, were asked a few questions to verify the information they were given, and that was it. We left at around 2:00 and thankfully the driver didn’t get lost on the way back.  We’ll have to return next week to pick up the booklet that confirms our registration which means we’ll probably miss another day of Bangla.  Ah well. I’ll have plenty of time to study on the way there!

ami bangla sikhchi (I am learning Bangla)!

We were thrown into the deep end on Monday with our first Bangla class...four hours of Bangla class, but already it's becoming easier. Having knowledge of Hindi, however minute it is, has definitely helped me with the sounds, letters, and some grammar concepts (e.g. both have a subject-object-verb structure rather than English's subject-verb-object structure) but there aren't as many similarities in vocabulary as I thought there would be. We're taking classes at the American Institute for Indian Studies and have separate but equally amazing teachers for each subject: writing, grammar, speaking, vocabulary, and listening. In the vocabulary class alone I think we've been given over 200 words to learn this week so when they say intensive, they mean intensive. It's a language-lover's dream!

To give you a sample of what we've learned, here's my Bangla introduction:

amar nam pamela ar ami iowa theke esechi. My name is Pamela and I'm from Iowa.

Ekhon, ami salt lake-e thaki ar ami bangla sikhchi. Right now, I'm living in Salt Lake and am learning Bangla.

kendriya vidalayate ami pOre ekhane english pOrabo. Later, I will be teaching English at Kendriya Vidyalaya.

bEs! That's all!

July 5-9: Orientation

The view from our Kolkata hotel room

Our orientation session in Delhi was a short day and a half, after which we five Kolkata ETAs left to continue the orientation in our new city. During those several days, we met with security officials from the US Embassy about staying safe, a doctor about staying healthy, and current Fulbrighters about living in the city. During the Kolkata portion especially, many pieces started coming together regarding what we’ll be doing these next nine months; we met our English teacher trainer who will meet with us twice a month starting in August to help us become more effective ETAs and to offer advice for any problems we might be experiencing; we had a getting-to-know-you session with our host school principals and teachers and later, were able to visit the schools and work out a teaching schedule (I’ll be teaching four, 35-minute classes a day for grades 6-8); we visited the American Institute for Indian Studies where we’ll be taking intensive Bangla classes for the next three weeks; and, most importantly, we met with our facilitator, Oisharjya, a local college student with the arduous task of teaching three bumbling Americans how to survive in the city. She has taught us how to take all forms of transportation (bus, taxi, auto rickshaw, and metro), shown us where to buy the latest fashions (Fab India) and basic necessities (Big Bazaar), helped with the apartment search, and will be spending several hours with us tomorrow as we register with the foreign registration office. Without her holding our hands along the way, I don’t know how we would have survived this first week!

July 5-6: The Taj

Entering the Taj Majal Hotel was entering a world of extreme hospitality. After 14+ hours on a plane, well, let’s just say I wasn’t the freshest looking I’ve ever been and my mind was a bit mushy but that

didn’t seem to faze them one bit. I stepped out of the car and was immediately greeted with Welcome Madame by the several staff people who surrounded my car. My bags were whisked away before I could utter a word and perhaps noticing my less than alert mental state, I was gently guided to the security desk where I had to step through a metal detector and have my handbag scanned (a common occurrence in India). When I asked about my luggage, I was assured they would be following me shortly and at that moment, the 14 other ETAs arrived from a Delhi excursion so I was now greeted with a chorus of Hello Pamela’s and questions about how my flight went. Before I could answer, I was asked to follow a staff person to the check-in desk, a journey of 10 feet during which at

least 15 Welcome Madame’s, Hello Madame’s, and Good Morning Madame’s were uttered. As I was going through the usual check-in procedures, my program manager, Sumanta, magically appeared by my side, asking how I was, helping me check-in, and answering my questions about the day’s schedule. I was then guided to my room by a woman in a beautiful sari, the uniform for female Taj employees, and my luggage, as promised, soon followed. I had about an hour before our first session of the day and so I took what became the best shower of my entire life, played around with the room remote on the nightstand (see photo at left), and took in the gorgeous view.

July 3-5: The Flight

The beginning of my trip started somewhat rocky. I missed my flight due to a mistake on my part (note to self: learn to read 24 hour time) so rather than flying from Boston to Chicago to Delhi, I flew from Boston to London to Mumbai to Delhi. Sleeping was difficult on the plane due to two factors: 1) my chair didn’t recline on the Boston to London flight and 2) the flight attendant on the flight from London to Mumbai flight insisted on waking me up whenever a savory snack or meal was served. While I understand the importance of eating, sometimes a girl just wants to sleep! Once landing in Mumbai (at 2am), I took a 10-minute bus ride from the plane to immigration, got my necessary clearance, gathered my luggage, and headed into the sea of people needing to board buses back to their terminals. The vast majority of people in the mass had trollies piled high with bags and boxes of every shape and size so occasionally, someone on airport staff would notice little ol’ me with my one roller bag and one backpack and direct me to go straight ahead...until I hit another bottle neck and was forced to stop. I was so tired and clueless at this point that I just took it all in and had faith that eventually I’d get to my terminal, which I did with plenty of time to spare.

The last leg of my journey was a short 1 ½ hour flight from Mumbai to Delhi and I spent it sitting next to a sweet, elderly Punjabi man. We bonded over Bhangra and I showed him photos of me dancing, which he thoroughly enjoyed. When the Indian meal came (that’s right, there was a meal on that short of flight!), he explained to me what everything was and how best to eat it. Being completely stuffed, I put my head back and closed my eyes only to be slightly jarred a couple of minutes later when my seat suddenly tipped back! As it turns out, my new friend saw I was a bit tired so decided to help me out by reclining the seat for me. So, although my flight started out a bit rough, it had a nice ending.

Greetings from Kolkata!

I can’t believe it’s only been a week! The combination of our full days, the hot weather, and jet lag (which honestly, hasn’t been that bad) has meant that by 7:00, I can barely keep my eyes open. I’ll be starting Bangla classes this week so the pace should slow down a bit, making it easier for me to blog. Plus, our school has free internet, making it much cheaper for me to blog J So, rather than one huge post about this past week, plan on seeing several posts within the next couple of days covering all my adventures to date.

Let the games begin!

In her book, "Snakes and Ladders: Glimpes of Modern India," Gita Mehta draws a comparison between the ancient board game Snakes and Ladders (also known as Chutes and Ladders) and India's first fifty years as an independent nation, both of which she characterized as having joyous highs followed by dismaying, or in some cases disastrous, lows. As I read her descriptions of the"roller-coaster ride" experienced in both areas, I couldn't help but contemplate the ride that waits for me in India. As a Fulbright English Teaching Assistant living and working in Kolkata for nine months, I know I will experience the ups and downs, the ladders and snakes, that come with adjusting to life in another culture. And while I hope this blog will 1) keep my family and friends up-to-date with my adventures and 2) provide helpful information to prospective Fulbright ETAs, there is also a more personal reason for documenting my experiences; when sliding down the snakes, it will remind me of the ladders I've climbed and when perched atop a ladder, it will help me appreciate how far I've come while gazing at the snakes below. In five, short hours, it's time to roll the dice!