I have a fruit man [on living in India]

I also have a confession: Today  A few days ago I ate a Kraft Single

I know. It's horrible. I'm sorry! I HAD TO!

But before I get to that and before I tell you a bit about my life in India, I am going to shamelessly pat myself on the back for a moment (at least I am warning you...) and say that I adjust pretty well to new places. I've become pretty adept at going with the flow and accepting each bump in the road, even when some days they seem more miniature Everests than bumps. I'm pretty confident navigating my way through foreign places and I'm usually able to keep my head and call shenanigans when someone is trying to take advantage of my foreign self.  I've spent the better part of the last two years accepting the fact that most of the time I will have no idea what's going on. C'est La Vie, Right? I bring this on myself.

All that being said, and all my many months of travel thrown aside, you know who doesn't care? India. Not a teansey-wensey bit. So what that I've lived in a foreign country? So what that I have spent months traveling through Asia? So what that I like to think I am a pretty accommodating and patient person to being with? You know what India says to that? On a daily basis, she looks me square in the eyes and says "Bring it on. I'd like to see you try to stay on your feet! And for the record I'll be doing my best to knock you on your tushie each and every step of the way. Only the strong survive, honey. Let's see what you're made of..."

Now that I am done anthropomorphizing (and admittedly generalizing) one of the worlds biggest countries,  I will tell you that I don't actually hate India and, most days, when we're not in a fight,  I respect the challenge. I am honestly happy that I came and I'm pretty sure that, while she may win some of the battles, I'll will prevail in the long haul.

India is just not an easy place to live, which I knew when I came here. Given my "all over the place" lifestyle the last two months, it's been difficult to get settled in Delhi and everyday presents a new challenge. It's taken a while to figure out exactly what my basic needs really are, and how to make sure they are met.  Even once I know what I want or need, I have to argue with rickshaw drivers (etc.) on a daily basis who refuse to use their meter and try to charge me 5 times the actual price, I am constantly amazed that people don't find it rude to stand a foot away from me silently staring as I try to purchase some yogurt, I often find myself squashed into an uncomfortably small space with thousands of pushy strangers, and some days I find myself literally day dreaming about eating a salad. Its also inching closer to 100 degrees everyday currently 100 degrees.

But you know what? 95% of the time it's ok. I have figured (some)things out. I have a (slightly ridiculous) place to live. I enjoy the people I work with. I have identified a few oasis' of calm amidst the chaos. Most often I can make my way around Delhi on the reserved 'ladies car' of the relatively new (and air conditioned) metro. And I have a fruit man.

Office staff in Dehradun, Uttarakhand

It many not seem like much, but after two months spent moving locations every 4-5 days, my fruit man makes a difference. When in Delhi (which was almost two full weeks this time :) ) I buy my fruit from an older man who parks his cart on the corner near work. Every time I walk by and say hello, I am greeted with a smile and "Hello." The days I buy fruit bring short exchanges about where I have been or where I am going, along with a bag-full of goodies. I was genuinely concerned last week when he wasn't around ( I think he was ill) and irrationally happy to see him sitting in a lawn chair on the sidewalk a few days ago. My fruit man always gives me a fair price and sometimes some extra bananas. I never know how much I want in grams, so he shows examples of 100g or 500g so I can decide. It's all good business, but the honesty and friendliness have won me over. As long as my man is there,  even if he doesn't have the best fruit, he has my friendship and he has my business. I have my fruit man. And I have fruit. And all is good. Next step, veggies.

In addition to sharing my love for my fruit man, I will fill you in on one more nugget from my life in India, with more to come at a later date...

India HomeLife:
A funny thing that you should know is that I have two Indian roommates. Both are university/graduate students, who provide an interesting window into the life as a young Indian women in addition to helping me out with things like learning to use my gas burner without living in fear that it will explode at any second.

Lest you be confused, I don't mean I am sharing a multi-room apartment with these girls. After realizing how much I would be traveling for work (and a bit of play) I decided against throwing down for a traditional apartment,  and instead chose to live in a PG (or paying guest) room. These are spread all over the city and can range from large dormitory like buildings to shared rooms attached to a family home.  Many single young Indian's, especially those in University who are often living apart from their families for the first time (and especially girls whose parents are less then enthusiastic about them living on their own) choose this kind of housing. Why not, right?

So, what does that mean? It means I live in a small single room with two other girls dorm/summer camp style. It means there are really only two beds, and a third that we can pull out if all three of us are home at the same time ( I think this has happened around 7 times since I moved in) It means I wash my clothes and shower with a bucket and cook on a single burner attached to the top of a gas canister. And again, I am largely o.k. with it. Yes there are the moments when someone is going to sleep, while others are still awake, yes I think my alarm going off in the morning probably makes them a little crazy, yes there are times when having roommates cramps my style. But, in India or elsewhere, that's life with literal roommates. I survived years of summer camp. I survived freshman dorms. And I will survive this. Most of the time, when were watching movies, trapping lizards in the bathroom, or gossiping about dating and the intricacies of Indian (most often arranged) marriage, I think I'll even enjoy it. It also helps that its a roughly three minute walk around the corner to work...

It's not for everyone, and many of my fellow volunteers are as skeptical of the entire situation as I am sure many of you are; but, the way I see it, it's just another experience to throw in the bag. I'm only 24. Why not? One things for sure, it's keeping life interesting. And sometimes I need to temper that interest with a sickly-processed Kraft Singles grilled cheese.

Emily