Newspapers / St. Andrews University Student … / Feb. 8, 1998, edition 1 / Page 4
Part of St. Andrews University Student Newspaper / About this page
This page has errors
The date, title, or page description is wrong
This page has harmful content
This page contains sensitive or offensive material
fArewt Pages fpom a travels. December 27, 1997 The Lincoln T\innel I’m scared. It’s not an es pecially defined fear. It’s just a worried mix of emotions, bolstered by a healthy shot of adrenaline. Not the least of these emotions is the soft sadness that comes with the realization that I shall never be quite the same again. I’ve long been aware that change and won- derfiil new opportunities aren’t al so 1 asked them to teach me. It was exactly duck-duck-goose. I played for hours, much to the amusement of the children’s par ents, who were watching. After the game ended, one of the older children, a thirteen- year-old named Chanda, invited me to come meet her family. They were living in a large tent next to the park. At first, I thought her fam- ways the same thing, but 1 hope this is a good change. January 1, 1998 Ashok Yatri Niwas, New Delhi Today, I went to Jantar Mantar, a large observatory in the middle of New Delhi. It’s like a park, except it has large stone structures, not the least of which is a two-story sundial. I was sitting on top of one of these structures when a group of girls came up and started talk ing to me. They asked about America and what 1 thought of India. A few minutes later, they got tired of me and went to play. I watched their game. It looked a lot like duck-duck-goose. ily lived there because they were poor, but Chanda’s father ex plained that they were actually liv ing there temporarily. What I had taken for a community was actu ally an encampment of protesters, living next to the park as part of a large protest against government and judicial corruption. Chanda’s mother had been raped, but her attacker had gone free because of judicial corrup tion. Chanda’s father is a journal ist, so he and 1 even got to talk shop for a while. I leave New Delhi tomorrow, but 1 shall be back on the 9th. Chandra’s family has invited me to come back. Chanda’s mother wants me to call her “auntie.” Ev eryone hugged me and asked me to take their picture. To have left my nice enough, yet distant, family in JFK airport, only to meet with people who treat one who is for all practi cal purposes a stranger with such love is an incredible feeling. I’m glad I’m in India. January 3, 1998 Bissau Palace Hotel, Jaipur One of the first things one leams when visiting India is to watch out for the rickshaw guys. These men drive motorized rick shaws, essentially high powered golf carts. They’re nice to have around if you want to go someplace, but they usually try to take you to a shop. These shop owners give the drivers kickbacks, but they usually have higher prices. Today, Chuck Marshall and 1 decided to turn the tables on these shop owners. We had a rick shaw driver take us to five shops. We bought nothing and split the commission with him. We didn’t make THAT much money, but it was fun. January 4,1998 Bissau Palace Hotel, Jaipur For the first time in my life, I truly feel like a sex object. It’s a bad feeling. My style of dress and figure reflect a cross between the British notion of neglected wom anhood and a belief in being more than one appears to be. As a result, I am totally unused to this type of attention. However, in India, a plump figure is consid ered a plus and I’ve been hit on constantly. Several indian men have proposed. I don’t like it a bit and I have an entirely new respect for what beautiful women put up with. January 5,1998 Bissau Palace Hotel, Jaipur Was walking with Jon Cox today when we ran into some boys playing cricket in the street. They handed Jon a bat and asked him to play. They bounced the ball to him and he swung. He missed. They threw it three more times and he missed it each time. It wasn’t his fault as he’s not used to hitting a ball that is bounced to him. Soon the children were laughing at the silly Americans who couldn’t even hit a ball. I took the bat and asked Jon to pitch the ball like a softball. I swung. THWOK!!! The ball flew up over a tree and the kids stared at me, stunned. By far the most satisfying athletic experience of my life. January 9,1998 Siddartha Lodge, Agra As I was walking up to the Taj Mahal today, I had a guy show me a bunch of souvenir photos that showed various tourists jump ing with the Taj in the back ground, appearing to be leaping over the Taj. I said “No, who would want a piece of junk like that?” As I walked in, the first thing I saw was about five people jumping, with the Taj in the back ground. Gotta love the tourists. The Taj is lovely. I mean, it’s perfect to the point that it seems to repeatedly declare its beauty to the outside world. Call me an envious American, but I hySuzyni think it’s pretty to the point of being a little much. We visited another tomb in Delhi called Humayan’sTomb that I liked a lot more. Chuck and I walked around pretending he’d just bought it and we were decid ing how he should decorate it. We got some funny looks, but it was fun. January 9,1998 Ashok Yatri Niwas, New Delhi Went back to visit Chanda’s family. I met some of her father’s friends, who are also journalists, and talked about politics. It was a lot of fun. Chanda’s mother gave me an address book with their ad dress in it and a bunch of pictures of them, including one of the fa ther posing with the political sec retary of India. They made me write out my impressions of India. January 10,1998 Ashok Yatri Niwas, New Delhi For dinner. Chuck, Neil Davis, Andi Giorgi and I went to dinner at Wimpy’s, an Indian fast food restaurant. i' mmm
St. Andrews University Student Newspaper
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
Feb. 8, 1998, edition 1
4
Click "Submit" to request a review of this page. NCDHC staff will check .
0 / 75