I almost can’t believe it’s nearly three months since my last entry from up in Mussoorie. It feels like I was in Mussoorie a long time ago, but paradoxically I feel like I just wrote that entry yesterday. Anyway, so much has happened since July that it would be futile to try and sum all of it in one entry. I’ll try and hit the highlights of what has been a crazy journey thus far.

First, when it comes to trips, I have been on many since July. In early August I went to Amritsar (Punjab) for a quick weekend, which was most probably the best trip I’ve been on thus far in India. It was such a last minute excursion that Sudev, Amber, and I basically got the last three tickets on the train the night before leaving, which involved me having to convince a Babu at the Foreign Tourist Bureau that we were in fact tourists and not just students as our visas say. Luckily, because perhaps of my politeness but more probably because of the color of my skin and my mediocre Hindi abilities (Indians trying to hook other Indians up), I was able to get three tickets that had been reserved exclusively for white tourists. Yes.

Anyway, in Amritsar we went to the Pakistani border and watched the hilarious changing-of-guard ceremony that showcases a rather odd side of the tension between India and Pakistan. There is a gigantic gate between the two countries, and we could see Pakistanis on the other side cheering for their country while we on the India side were expected to cheer for “the world’s largest democracy.” The intense displays of nationalism on both sides were at once creepy and inspirational. I suppose it was more friendly than anything else, but the only thing I really have to say is Pakistan, you all need to get a better song. The Indian side had a large collection of nationalistic crap music playing over loudspeakers, but Pakistan, you ought to be ashamed by the ONE SONG that you had on repeat. It consisted of a female voice saying, “Pakistan! Pakistan!...” Good work, Pakistan. India is clearly a better country than you.

After the border, it was off to the Golden Temple, which I simply cannot describe with words, so I won’t. If you come to India, go there, and see for yourself. The splendor of the Golden Temple was nearly matched the amazing special thalis at Brother’s dhaba, which is right near by. How they manage to make a five layer parantha the world may never know, so again, go there, and eat some amazing Punjabi food for yourself.

Other trips include one three weeks ago to Jaipur (Rajasthan) and Agra (UP), which was organized and paid for entirely by EAP. That, of course, also meant the entire group of 40 Delhi EAP students went on the trip, which made it a rather painful experience. However, seeing the Taj Mahal for the second time (last time was five years ago) and just getting out of Delhi for the weekend helped me keep sane. The weekend after that (first one in September) I went on a five day trip to Bombay with Sudev and Amber, about which I’ll comment more at another time.

But aside from traveling, most of my time has been spent in Delhi, where I’ve actually been extraordinarily busy the past few weeks. But if you think I’ve been filling my time studying hard for prestigious Delhi University, you’d be completely and utterly mistaken. Classes are such a joke that I don’t even know where to begin. The professors come about 60% of the time and the students come (or cum as it’s frequently spelled in India—the semen reference is completely lost on Indian Indians, however. But it’s not lost on me. Because I’m 12 years old) about 40% of the time. I guess if you add the two together, that makes 100%, but if you passed third-grade division, you’d know that you can’t just add percentages like that.

But speaking of third-grade, classes at DU (and students) border on retarded/useless/dumb/inane. My favorite professor by far is Shanta Verma, who I have for a Political Science class titled “India and the World.” Queen Shanta, as I respectfully call her, cums to class anywhere from 15 minutes to two hours late, and she expects us to all wait for her silently in our seats. If we don’t, she shouts at us and says motherly shit like “I’ve told you so many times…” Our fear of the Queen has almost led us to appoint someone to stand near the window to wait for her to roll up in her A/C chauffered-driven car and then yell “she’s cumming,” so that we can all scurry back to our seats before she walks in. And I use walk very carefully here. It’s more accurate to say that she struts in like a weird mix of the Iron Lady and Indira Gandhi. And that’s why I like her. She’s a complete and total power woman. It’s hot. In a sick Hilary Clinton kind of way. Yeah, I know I’m fucked up. Deal with it.

However, not everyone is like Queen Shanta. I’m taking a Philosophy class by a raging Gandhi-lover (I’m tempted to throw him a walking stick and call him Mahatma) named K.P. Shankaran, who always shows up on time and is an amazing lecturer. Despite the dumb questions often asked in class by fellow EAP student(s), Shankaran carries on with poise and makes such well-thought out arguments that you really can’t debate with him. Unless you’ve studied Gandhi and Philosophy in general for 20+ years like he has. But overall the class has taught me a lot about Gandhi’s philosophy (which, like a three year-old, is strangely endearing even if it is illogical and naïve), and the lectures fulfill my need to keep my brain from completely becoming a vegetable.

So if I haven’t been spending my time studying/going to class, what have I been so busy with? Theatre. That’s right. Even in India, I’ve managed to sacrifice my GPA, friends, and love life just to fulfill my need to be a stage whore. But at least it’s educational this time since I’m going a play in Hindi with students that are my age that mostly don’t speak English. So I’m meeting Indians around my age while also improving my Hindi, both of which were goals of mine before cumming on this trip. Also, I get to do Ibsen's "Peer Gynt" for the second time, but this time, as mentioned before, in Hindi, so the experience is totally worthwhile even if I have to rehearse four hours day, six days a week.

That's all I have time/the desire to post now, but I'll maybe put some more thoughts down later....