Hello...

...My name is Catherine, and I've been sober for 27 days.
But that all changes tonight!  You see, today I ventured out to the local liquor store and picked up two bottles of India's finest wine.

I'm sure Indian wine is nothing less than pleasing on the palette...  Here's a literal description from the back of one of the bottles:

Savour the delight of Four Seasons.  Whether it's the sprightliness of a fresh spring morning, the joyous warmth of a glorious summer afternoon, the tingling nip of a crisp autumn twilight, or the biting chill of an icy winter night.  To everything there is a season.  And to every season, there is an experience.  An experience captured by our new range of Four Seasons wines to suit every occasion.

...If only I just had 10 rupees every time I've heard someone talk about a tingling nip...
(Sorry, couldn't help myself.)

At least one of my bottles has captured the experience of every occasion.  I hope the occasion of "I've-moved-8,000-miles-away-from-home-to-a-remote-mountain-in-India-to-live-with-missionaries-and-do-who-knows-what-even-though-I-myself-am-not-a-wilderness-girl-or-devout-Christian-so-I'll-just-enjoy-a-glass-every-now-and-then-as-an-escape-from-the-extremity-of-being-completely-out-of-my-element-here" is included in that range.

We'll see...

Cheers!

Dear Sister. Dear Friend

I may not have been able to call you on your birthday this year, but at least you can't say I didn't try to show you some birthday blog love.

Sorry it's a bit late, but without further ado...

I hope know you enjoyed.
Now go out and be "Sasha Fierce" during this next 32nd year of your life.
(By the way, how many years have we been celebrating you're 32nd now?  It's getting awfully confusing.)

3rd Week

Another week down, and another rainbow in the sky.

I might make it through this trip alive after all!

When The Lights Go Down In The City

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the city of Kalimpong at night.

24 Before 24

Recently I was inspired by one of the blogs I read to create a 24 Before 24 list.  (I do love my bucket lists!)  It's simply 24 things I'd like to do before I turn 24 on my next birthday.  So before June 28th rolls back around, I'd like to do the following:

1. Bake soufflé(s)
2. Hanglide
3. Grow an herb garden
4. Learn to knit
5. Moonlight picnic
6. Make a (kick-ass) mix tape
7. Have a "date" night with my dad
8. Host a dinner party
9. Go to an orchestra concert
10. Join a stock photography website
11. Play Bingo in a Bingo Hall
12. Visit Nepal
13. Treat a stranger to a meal
14. Ride on a riverboat
15. Make my own postcards
16. Go to a Spirited Art class
17. Shop at a farmer's market
18. (Try to) Water ski
19. Visit a brewery, winery, or distillery
20. Dabble in lomography
21. Create a photo wall in my (currently hypothetical) apartment
22. Learn to do a cartwheel
23. Visit a state I've never been to
24. Be in the audience of a TV show/taping

So those are my four random goals over the next 10 months or so. I'll do my best to blog all about them as I cross them off.

Beetle Mania

As I terrifyingly delightfully learned the other night, Kalimpong is the home to some pretty massive beetles.  Oh, the joys of discovering all the creepy-crawly things of the Himilayas!  Because I know nothing about the science of insects, the only thing I can really tell you about these beetles is that they are big, black, and tan and have pinchers--aka, not my ideal discovery.

As luck would have it, the boys in the house absolutely love these beetles.  They literally collect them and keep them as pets.  No joke, I literally walked into the dining room after school to find three beetles sitting on the table where the boys had left them to feast on apples.  (Sidenote: It was only a matter of moments before the newest rule of the house was "No beetles on the table."  Do all boys need such guidelines?!)  So as much as I may not like the idea of living with such insects, there is no excaping it.

So this afternoon, in a brave attempt (that made an interesting photo-op), I embraced the beetle mania.  This is what insued:

As harmless as it ended up being, I think I'll still keep a comfortable distance from these, and all, bugs as long as I can help it.

Wanted: Dead or Alive

Today I was robbed.

Not of my money.
Not of my credit card.
Not of my camera or iPod.
And not even of my dignity.

...I was robbed of my bra.
Yes, my bra.

It was snatched right from the balcony where the clothes were hanging to dry.

My first thought was "What Kalimpong woman even has boobs big enough to fill it!".  After talking with Karin, though, I realized I was just being naive.  Most likely, it was a guy who stole it.  ...Creeper.

So if you happen to see a native Kalimpong male enjoying the thrills of a grey Victoria's Secret bra,it's most likely at my expense.



Does this kind of thing happen to other people or just me?!

My Best Buy Yet

I would just like to take a moment to proudly announce that I am the brand new owner of this totally frickin' awesome new t-shirt:

Thank you, Kalimpong Super Market; you truely do live up to your name.

Doing Victoria Treece Proud--Again

So say you've got a pizza making date with the local Mennonites, and you haven't washed your hair in X amount of days.  (X = a shamefully high number when it comes to someone with thin hair.) Not knowing much about the Mennonites and their beliefs, you're unsure whether wearing a hat would be offensive or not.  Who knows, it may be too taboo for a woman to sport such styles.  Who knows...

So what does one do in such a dilemma?

Pigtails!  Stringy, greasy, glistening pigtails.  And to go one step further and spice it up a bit due to the lack of coordinating hair accessories, I suggest tying them off with different color hair bands.  Maybe if anything, the thick, yellow band may distract the untrained eye from noticing those greasy bangs!  ...Then again, probably not.

Gross.  But maybe the Mennonites appreciate a good Laura Ingals wannabe?

The Little Things

Often I find the things that bring me the most joy--and humor--are the craziest little things.  They make my day.

For example, take wrestling cards.  They're like the concept of babseball cards, except profiling different wrestlers.  You--if you are an 8 year old boy--buy a whole sheet containing 30 or 40 wrestlers, cut it into individual cards, and then play a game.  (Unfortunately I've yet to pick up on the rules of the game or you know I'd be outside right now dominating the local street kids.)  Bottom line is, they are all the rage.  And if you know me, you should already know I, of course, love them because they are hilarious if nothing else.

Well, Joel also loves them.  Last night, while I was helping cut a few new sheets he had gotten, he was giving me the low-down on each wrestler.  In doing so, he said (and I quote), "This one's name is Jeff Hardy...  But I like to call him Jeff Party."

 

I loved it!  Is this a child of my own heart or what?!

Sing It, Judy Garland!

So not only did today bring sunshine, but hours later, there was also a rainbow!  ("Admiring a rainbow" makes for a pretty good excuse to break from homework and exam prep.)

So what did we do?
...Take pictures of the rainbow in our mouth!

DUH!

I Spy...

...(as I am sitting here uploading hundreds over overdue pictures to my Facebook,) a bright blue sky outside my window.

That's a (much welcomed) first.

Be Impressed

After the french fry feast, the Independence Day festivities, and thus the regular household help being gone for a four-day weekend, quite the mess accumulated in the kitchen.  So this morning to help out, I conquered this mountain pile of dishes:

 (Karin, please don't kill me for sharing such a picture.)

If you know me, then you know why I'd like to share such an accomplishment.  1) It's not my nature to enjoy cleaning.  And 2) The sheer fact that I conquered such a feat without complaint less than an hour after waking and having no coffee is barely shy of a miracle.

...Don't worry.  I've already given myself a pat on the back on your behalf.

Tastes of Obese America Home

Our dinner tonight was, at the very least, Heavenly...  I may be pounds kilograms heavier now, but I sure don't care...  For you see, I just had a feast of french fries!!!  Finally a taste familiar to home!  And boy were they goooood.  I even helped make them myself from scratch!  (Not that making fries from scratch is a big feat by any means, but humor me, will ya?!)  I pealed.  I cut.  I slaved away for hours upon hours.  ....Okay, so I really just peeled and cut, but even helpig with that much was newfor me!  Karin did the rest--probably a smart move not to have me in charge of the frying hot rice oil.

So for our leisurely Sunday dinner, we--Karin, the boys, and I--sat around a movie on the laptop and dines solely on our home-made fries.  (Before you go on a health rant, let me just say that we could afford to do this only after a day of odd schedules and frequent snacking.)  It was delicious!!  ...I didn't even care that the movie we were watching was Beethoven 5.  Not 1.  Not 2.  Not 3 or 4... But 5!  And just to give you an idea of how award-winning the plot and acting was, let me just say that the biggest name in the cast was Kathy Griffin.  ....Exactly...  But I didn't care, because I was in French Fry Heaven!

Twas Independence Eve...

Today mark's the eve of [India's] Independence Day.  As part of the celebration, we went to the town hall and watched several local schools put on a program. (Sherpa Tar, the nearby orphanage/school that Karin and Sam help run, was performing, so we went especially to cheer for them.)  Each school participating performed a short song or dance each, ranging anywhere from It's a Small World After All to more traditional Indian songs.  My favorite, however, was the group of girls decked from head-to-toe in traditional (regional) Indian garb dancing to Justin Bieber!  Yes, I did say type Justin Bieber.  (Chalk it up to Bieber Fever, I guess!)  Nothing quite says "Happy Independence India!" like the lyrics "Girl, you're an eenie-meenie-minie-moe lover"!  ...Let freedom ring, indeed!  (That is if freedom does indeed ring here; I don't know if that's too American--also read: AWESOME!--or not.)
All the other observations I made about the whole program can pretty much be summed up by saying typing: Those kids were so freakin' adorable!  Whether it was the girls with faces full of make-up dancing in traditional wear, the little boys no older than 5 in bow-ties,  the toddler girls in sparkly white dresses, or the little girl wearing a blue ballgown with purple rainboots, they were stinkin' cute.  And here are the pictures to prove it!

(This boy was portraying Ghandi)

(Purple rain boots!)

(This if from Sherpa Tar's performance.)

Spreading the Word

I know you've all been wondering, so let me go ahead and shine light to the fact:

Yes, there are Menonites in India.  Just so we're on the same page, I'm talking about fair-skinned, American Menonites.  What are they doing here, you ask...  (Don't worry, I asked [Karin] the same thing.)  Handing out pamplets--naturally.  (On Christianity, of course.)

Apparently, though I never really knew, there are Menonitesall over the world doing this very thing.  Turns out some do venture out further than Dollywood!  (True story:  I saw more Menonites walk through the gates of Dollywood than I think I have all together elsewhere my whole life!)

So now you know...

Spirits Lifted

Between the consistently lousy weather and the depressing chill songs on my iPod, I found myself in one moopy mood this afternoon.  But around 5 o'clock, that changed; the children from Sherpa Tar* came over for dinner and a movie.  It's amazing how 18 of the sweetest faces from one remote village in India can instantly lift your spirits.  I've not had the chance to work with the kids yet, but I already love 'em!



*Sherpa Tar is a smaller village about an hour and a half away.  It is there that Sam and Karin, along with the help of a few others, first took in a few abandoned children, starting an orphanage there.  Since, they have started a school within the orphanage, and are working to build a more stable envirnment for both.  So when I refer to the kids of Sherpa Tar, I am mostly speaking of the kids from the orphanage.  Seldomly, and in this case, I am also referring to a few of the other local children there as well.

Doing Victoria Treece Proud

Due to the events of last night and Mother Nature's clamoring light show, I awoke this morning not in one of my better moods.  To be specific, I awoke to Karin knocking on my door, letting me know we would be leaving for town in less than an hour.  Joy.  And this was something I couldn't back out of because I was the one who wanted to go down into town initially.

So quick recap:  Loud storms. No sleep.  Having to wake up.  (Me) Not in a good mood.  Rushed to get ready...
An ideal situation, as you can imagine...

Now let me mention the state I, or at least my hair, was in: completely dirty, greasy, and not washed for (2, 3--who's counting?) days.  I was B-E-A-Utiful to say the least, and didn't have time to do much about it given the primitive state of the "shower" here.  (See previous post.)

So how did I manage?!  ...I did exactly what Victoria Treece would do (or at least what she taught me to do during our lame, low-life freshman year of college): I put my hair up and then covered it with a hat!  And yes, I looked just as goofy lovely as you are imagining.  Even better, here's the picture to put your imagination at ease:

Lightening's Striking Again

So remember that calm, cool line in my last post about "learning to enjoy the sounds and sights of my first Himalayan storm"...?  Well let's go ahead and just throw it out the window,shall we!  Because it's easy to type such a sentiment when it's bedtime and the storm is tapering off, but when your awakened at 2 o'clock in the morning by the brightest streak of lightening you've ever seen and the loudest groan of thunder you've ever heard, it's a totally different story.  It was then, at that point exactly, that I found myself back in the "HO-LY SHIT"-state-of-mind.  And once the initial heart-attack shock passed, I became scared.  Not just scared, but pretty much scared to death.  (And if not to death, then at least into a comatose state there in my bed, under all 5 layers of covers.)  So what did I do?  Well first, I said a prayer.  I literally asked God to come and lay with me through the night.  And as childish as I may be, I fervently believed that I was laying there, spooning with God.  (He being the big spoon, of course, cause I was defenitely not brave enough for that!)  An odd concept, but it got me through the night, didn't it?!  Well, that and singing "Jesus Loves Me" and "These Are a Few of My Favorite Things" (from the Sound of Music) over and over in my head...

So that, dear friends, is how I truely survived my first night of storms in Kalimpong.  Not by "learning to enjoy it" but instead by praying and singing silently in my head until I finally fell back to sleep...

Lightening Strikes

Well I have officially witnessed my first thunderstorm in Kalimpong.  If I haven't already mentioned it, let me go ahead and interject here that we actually live on the mountain overlooking the city of Kalimpong.  AKA, we live amidst the clouds themselves.  And have you ever witnessed lightening from a Himalayan mountain? (Read: Do you know ho freakin' close the lightening feels?!)  I have/I do. The first time the bolt struck, my words were, "Oh my goh! Oh my goh! Oh my goh!".  What I was really thinking but not going to say in front of the family--a missionary family at that--was "HO-LY SHIT!".  (Much emphasis on each syllable of that "HO-LY SHIT!")  It definitely took a few minutes of loud clashes to get used to.  But I did, and I am still here safe, learning to enjoy the first sights and sounds of my first storm in the Himalayas. 
...Methinks I'll fall asleep to this.
Goodnight--or sut tha la, as the Nepali would say.

Nothing Cultural Here...

...Just an ode to Friday!
(Enjoy!)

Partyin', Partyin'--YEAH!

Oh, Debbie Cunningham!

Dear Debbie Cunningham--and every other math teacher that came before, but mostly Mrs. Cunningham because I gave you the most flack,

    As much as I hate to admit it, you were right.  (Ohh, how it pains me to type such words!  So go ahead... Bask in it.)  Who knew that years after sitting in the back of your class (devoting my time to making-up a secret code language with Victoria Treece), I'd actually need to know those Math functions you were yapping about?  And who could have known I would be continents away when this happened?  (And furthermore, who would have guessed that the secret code language we spent class period after class period inventing would amount to nothing beyond a few barely decipherable notes?!)  Who knew...  Surely not I, for I'd probably have paid more attention.  (Then again, who am I kidding?  Probably not.)  But as fate would have it, I actually am having to use math in the "real" world.  It turns out I cannnot help Josh and Stephen, the 11-year-old twins here, with their homework because I, myself, do not understand how I arrive at the conclusions.  Granted I can figure out the right answers with certainty, but I'll be damned if I can write out the long-hand explanations as to how or why I arrived at the answers.  Does my using my common sense not account for anything in the math world?!  (Of course not; that's too abstract.)  Therefore, I cannot teach the boys and explain to them the equations as their math book does.  (...Even after hours--okay, maybe a half hour at most--of studying the pages.)  Thus. I have hit a mathematical snag and all I can think is:  If only I had wiser... I would have listened to Debbie Cunningham.

Happy now?

                                                                            Sincerely,
                                                                            Catherine "Cattie" Harrison
                                                                                               

Feeling At Home

I may be living with a missionary family, but I assure you, they are regular people, too.  Everytime I hear Karin exclaim "Shit!", I feel more and more at home.  Thank goodness I belong!

Update

After a day (and night) spent in bed recuperating, I feel much better now.  All it took was some Thai eucalyptus (rubbed under my nose), some chewable vitamin C tablets, a brand new box of tissues, a home-made nettie pot remedy, a couple antihistamines, several pots of herbal tea, and a few phone calls home on my new mobile for that extra umph!  And just like that, I'm all better!  Let's hope it sticks!

Sick

Nancy told me last week that she felt like she had Mesothilioma, and I didn't know how to take it.  ...Now I know exactly how she feels, cause I, too, feel the same way.

Four days in, and I am terribly sick.  My sinuses and allergies have progressively turned against me, and now they are in full-fledged war.  Simply put, the wet, dirty--I mean outside the house when I say dirty--conditions in which I live have taken their toll.  I feel like I've mold, mildew, and fungus taking over my respritory system as we speak.  Though that it probably--hopefully--a mere dramitization on my part, I still feel incredibly cruddy.  Can't breath.  Sinuses full and blocked.  Sneezing attacks.  Sore throat.  No energy.  Achy...

Actually, if I had more energy, I might explain it more.  ...But for now, just know that I am sick in India and it sucks!

To Town We Go

**Disclaimer:  The opening of this story is loosely inspired by Prince and Sophia Petrillo.

Dig if you will a picture:

The year: 2011.  The setting: The hills of India.  A young, beautiful girl at the ripe age of 23 dons her most conveniently reached from one open suitcase rain gear: A United Planet T-shirt, one-size-fits-all ethnic Khmer (Cambodian) pants, Sperry boating shoes, and a clear Dollywood poncho.  Oh, and did I mention the EastSport--not quite JanSport--fanny pack that held the whole look together?!  (Wouldn't Tim Gunn be so proud!)  ...She's ready for a trip down the mountain to the city of Kalimpong on Market Day.  Unbeknownst to her when she agreed to the trip, they will not be taking the Jeep.  Instead, they (her and Sam, the father of the family she is living with) hop on the back of a motorcycle* and take off.  What a panic-induced exciting ride!  Narrow roads.  Swerving around pedestrians.  Blind curves.  Narrowly squeezing by oncoming traffic.  Pot holes--though "holes" is a grave understatement.  Wet pavement.  Swerving to avoid neighborhood animals--consisting of, but not limited to: dogs, cats, pigs, goats...  Finally, she reaches the bottom of the mountain and find herself in Kalimpong, only to be greeted with more terror excitment.  A city center thronged with cars, trucks--we're talking the equivalent of Indian semis--motorbikes, people, animals, vendors...  Everything you can imagine cramming together in one city (amongst the landscape of trash and never-ending grime).

*To put my feelings about motorcycle rides simply: They scare the living shiz out of me.  Just ask my bf if you want full details...

...A day full of sheer anxiety adventure in the Indian state of Bengali!

And to think, I only got ran over once!

(No seriously, I was standing with Sam by a roadside vendor when I suddenly felt myself being pulled away.  Turns out, there was a car right behind me making a sharp turn, and in doing so, it got all-too-close to the bag on my back, and took me along with it...)

What a way to be welcomed to the city on my first day out in Kalimpong!

Scrub A Dub Dub--Kalimpong Style

The tub: A bucket

The shower head: A measuring cup

The drain:  The bathroom floor

The hot water heater: An "emergenheater"

This is my shower for the next 6 months...

Unless, like this morning, you have no electricity and have to heat the water on the stove top.

Old McDonald Had A Farm...

...and I beleive it may have been in India...  In the city of Kalimpong...  On Delo Road...  Right behind my house.

Because from my room, I hear roosters... And pigs... And dogs...  And cats....  Not to mention, I've seen goats.  

The animals roaming around here actually make Mary's house seem normal!*

*At least my family members will understand that reference. 

Things You Will Do During A 10 Hour Layover In Dehli

1) Walk around lost, ask many questions, and not understand the heavy accented English you get in return.

2) Trek what seems like miles and miles across the entire Dehli airport to finally find your airline carrier... But not be able to advance any further because you are too early. So FYI, that food court that you can see clearly beyond that dividing door is just a tease for the next 5 hours.

3) Drop an F-bomb--or two.

4) Regroup, find a seat, and get comfortable for the wait to come.

5) Write a letter.

6)Look through every picture on your camera. If you're like me, that will be no small feat. It kills time and feels like a magical journey through the last six months. Oh, and you will be sharing that journey, because the womannext to you will be peaking over your shoulder and looking, too.

7)YATZEE! Break out the dice and start playing! ...Who cares that you can't remember the proper scoring. Play anyways! And don't be alarmed when your neighbor looks at you blankly after you ask if he has ever played. (Fine by me! That's just one less Yatzee invitation he'll be getting in his life!)

8) Scribble down a really dumb awesome list to upload to your blog later, but only get to step number 8 before you grow bored of it...

9) Upon boredom, play more Yatzee! And FINALLY get that damned Yatzee you were trying for.

10) Intricately decorate an envelope.* (Yes, it is as exciting as it sounds.)

11) Realize that you still have 2 hours to pass...

*The envelope that you spent an hour so intricately decorating to send off to a friend will later be covered by 20 individual stamps at the Kalimpong post office due to their lack of one proper international stamp. At that point, you will have to fight back tears of frustration.

Adventurists Say:

Do one things everyday that scares you.

...Well I am taking it a step further...

I am doing one thing everyday that scares the living shit out of me.


In other words, I've arrived in India.
...6 months, here we go!