Well. I find it odd that I am relieved that someone is still making at least a half-hearted attempt to keep track of asg-xers. Some day I will do a websearch on asg-x and find no trace of our history, and even knowing that I did a lot toward erasing my part of our history, it will still make me sad.

ETA: Shortly after I wrote this, Leslie Harpold passed away. I'd link to something about her, but she was involved in so much, that I can't decide which one site to select. A google search on her name would probably represent her more fairly. Follow that, and you can see all of her projects, and all the ways she helped people. This is the huge difference between Leslie and me: if you start with her name, it will lead you to so many asg-xers (and to so many other good people, too, I'm sure); if you start with my name, however, it will only lead back to me, because I eventually turn away from everything and everyone. I wish I was more like her, and I wish I had had it in me to tell her that before it was too late.

On the other hand, it is the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and I AM NOT CRYING. Does anyone remember me at this time last year? What a bloody, sobbing, stupid mess I was. Crying in the therapist's office, my god. And I've already made it farther in this Ph.D. program than I did in my last one (okay, only twelve weeks farther, but still).

While looking for the link to place above, I read the entry directly below it. Does anyone remember what the hell book I'm talking about in that post? Because I sure can't, and I'd really like to know what I was trying to say in that secret message. ETA: Never mind, I remember.

How much would I regret it if I just blew off my last semester of course work? I mean, yes, of course, I would go to class, but what would it hurt to register for classes in which I have no emotional investment? Do I have to actually CARE about my work? I wonder if I could find a dissertation topic that didn't matter to the world (or to me) at all, but was still palatable enough to my dissertation committee that they would approve of it. It just seems that it would be a lot easier to get through this process if I didn't care about the outcome of any given conversation, or if the matter under debate was something meaningless both socially and politically.

I don't think this is an unobtainable position, it seems like a lot of people around me don't connect their work to the world around them. They focus on one little slice of the historical archive with little regard to how that sliver is related to any greater issue. Or, at least, they regard the connection only insofar as they have to do a literature review--they would see no political motivation behind their work, and, of course, where I would argue that their "value neutral" position is, in fact, a political position, they don't consider that to be at all the case.

Because, really, despite the scholarship modelled for me by someone who (in her own words) revels in the challenge, I fail to see how someone like me can sustain this kind of politically and socially engaged work. While many people would characterize me as one of those women with "strong personalities," I think what they don't realize is that my assertiveness and determined inflexibility is actually a way of combatting an inherent fragility. I don't bend, I break. I either withstand the challenge completely, or I shatter into a million pieces. In this, I think one of my professors was correct in her assessment that I am not the "middle of the road" person that I sometimes claim to be. I find I am not able to give just a little ground, I give up the entire piece of property, then wonder where I'm supposed to live afterwards.

Schedule:

Monday
9:30-11:00 Seminar, Plantation Landscapes
2:00-3:00 Lecture, Arch 210 (T.A.)
3:00-4:00 Lecture, Heritage Management
4:00-5:00 Third-year Hindi

Tuesday
Supposedly free. Not.

Wednesday
9:30-11:00 Seminar, Plantation Landscapes
1:00-3:00 Seminar, Britain in the Global 18th C.
3:00-4:00 Lecture, Heritage Management
4:00-5:00 Third-year Hindi

Thursday
11:00 Third-year Hindi tutorial
3:00 Teaching meeting

Friday
11:00 Teach (Arch 210 discussion)
1:00 Teach (Arch 210 discussion)
3:00-4:00 Lecture, Heritage Management
4:00-5:00 Third-year Hindi

This semester's research assignments:

Historiographical essay/annotated bibliography, topic: Celestial Cartography and Imperialism

Historiographical essay/annotated bibliography, topic: Contemporary consumption/tourism of plantation landscapes in the American South

Seminar paper, topic: Something or other to do with the history of the Archaeological Survey of India (yes, I'm taking suggestions)

Research paper, topic: Jawahar Kala Kendra, written in (broken) Hindi

State of the semester:

Tired, but hanging in there. Still trying to maintain my "Indiana every other weekend" routine, but I have a feeling it's about to fall apart. Last time I drove home, it was dark, rainy, foggy, and the roadways were covered with frogs. The last 25 minutes of the three-hour drive were all me trying not to cry. Getting up many hours early to make it back for a 9:30 class on Monday a.m. is not working for me, either.

Pulled a dissertation committee together, mostly in an attempt to make me focus on my site more and my golf game less. Still, I'm pretty happy with my committee, surprised by the people who said, yes, they would be on my committee, and wondering if I just set myself up for failure. If I could add someone to my committee, it would be someone from the History and Philsophy of Science, or from SSK, but where do I find those people? I don't know. Committee chair likes the site, but has few suggestions on where to go from here. Starting to feel ill about the whole thing.

Trying to come up with a plan to read for exams. Outside minor field (Heritage Management) feels the best right now. Major field is so broad (Architecture of Northern India, 1700-1947) that it contributes to that "starting to feel ill" state. Worrying about the dissertation proposal seems stupid when I won't even pass my major field or methodological exams.

H.C. Look at the time. Gotta quit whining and get some Zzzzs.

I will eventually get around to filling in my movie reviews. Really.

Everything seems to be moving very quickly now. I barely remember India, although in a definitely strange coincidence, in looking on the web for the e-mail address of a professor whom I needed to e-mail, I discovered said professor stayed in the same house I did when she was in Jaipur. Yes, we're in generally the same field (she "does" the history of mathematics and India), but still, the odds are not good we'd end up in the same place, or even that I would need to e-mail her at some point.

Anyway. School is, of course, eating up my life. I'm not completely happy with having to go back to the life of a commuter, especially when I wasn't home at all during the summer. This is one of those things that comes under heading "the things I sacrificed for my Ph.D." when I'm writing my memoirs some day. Classes sort of even out. One seems good, one seems bad. The third one hasn't met yet, so it could be the deciding factor in how my semester is going to go. Hindi is incredibly intense, but I'm trying to just disassociate from myself when I'm in the classroom.

Fun things--over the past few weeks I managed to see all six of our friends, some of them for more than a few minutes. It will probably be Christmas before I see any of them again. I managed to pick up the phone and call one other friend I seem to fall out touch with often despite my continual pledges not to do so. Also, we made a new friend, unless she was secretly desperate to escape our company. If that's the case, it would seem she's a fairly good actress. At any rate, she has to suffer our company at least one more time, otherwise she won't get her DVDs back. And with whom else well she discuss real, live India?

In other amazing news, I have both high-speed internet access *and* cable TV at home. When has this ever happened in my life? Never. At home, yes, we have basic cable, but we use the free dial-up through the university. Last year here in Illinois, I had neither internet access nor television of any kind. However, last Friday while I was out corrupt^H^H^H^Hteaching my new crop of students, Catherine managed to get both digital cable and internet installed in the new apartment for roughly half the price it would cost had I stayed in Chambana. Rantoul is nice. I'm just saying.

I need to start a new movie post because I'm tired of digging back to January to add to the original movie post. We had to watch a movie every week, and although some of them were repeat views for me, a few were new. Saw a few movies at Raj Mandir, EP, Golcha, and...hm...Space? Can't remember. I'll add my comments sometime when I'm trying to avoid studying.

Munna Bhai M.B.B.S.
Earth
Armaan
Paheli
Masoom
Mirch Masala
Sholay
Krrish!
ChupChupke
Fanaa
Iqbal

Omkara--Hope your Bhojpuri is strong because you'll need it for this movie. SAK puts in a really strong performance. Actually, all performances were good (even Vivek Oberoi's, if you can believe that), and the majority were great. Kareena Kapoor once again fails to impress, but she was adequate. She got good reviews, so maybe it's just a flaw in me that I can't appreciate her dramatic work. Konkona Sensharma, on the other hand, was awesome. Great soundtrack, solid interpretation of Othello. I just read the play last March, but I read The Tempest simultaneously, so I found myself confusing them. Looking forward to seeing this with subtitles.

Mr. and Mrs. Iyer--For awhile, I thought this would be added to my "really good movie I'm never going to watch" list (right behind Hey Ram) because I can't seem to sit through movies on communal violence. Not even for Konkona Sensharma. I did miss quite a bit of the movie, moving back and forth between the living room and the office when I thought something unpleasant was about to happen. Catherine assures me the violence was all off screen, but that doesn't necessarily make it more palatable for me. Anyway, Beth was at one point wondering what she would say if someone came onto a bus and demanded her to identify her religion. I'm not sure how I'd answer that question (aside from saying what I always say, "I have no religion, and doubt I ever will,"), but I do know what I hope I would have said in the exact same situation as depicted in the movie. If someone boarded my bus and I understood that they were specifically looking for Muslims (or Hindus or whomever) to kill them, and they picked out the elderly Muslim couple in front of me to kill, hopefully I would have the courage to stand up and say, "Even I am a Muslim." Because, damn, if I had to sit in a bus and know that I did absolutely nothing to stop the execution of two innocent people, I would kill myself afterward, anyway. I could not live with that knowledge, so I might as well go down fighting.

Home again. An incredibly long flight, sandwiched between two short flights. All uneventful, I'm happy to report, and thank goodness I flew home on the 9th and not the 10th, or I'd probably still be in the airport in Chicago.

In case you're wondering how to be treated well in the airports of Jaipur and Delhi: tuck your ticket inside a copy of Prem Chand (in Hindi), and set it on the counter while the desk agent is doing the paper work. People will notice, and people will be happy. The same works at security. Have the book in your hand, and send it through the scanner separately. It may be missing at the other end because the security officers will have picked it up to look at it and show it to each other. Answer the security questions in Hindi, and you will be golden.

So, arrived home Wednesday, spent Thursday and Friday in Illinois moving to a new apartment. Everythign went remarkably smoothly, especially considering that I was all but comatose with exhaustion. And I was driving a car while sleeping, so think about that the next time you're on the road and be very frightened of the drivers around you. Anyway, new address, boxes moved to the new apartment, furniture to be delivered next week, utitilies turned on, renter's insurance purchased, mailbox re-keyed, everything seems to be working out. I'm again not looking forward to living in two cities simultaneously, but it could be worse, I could be commuting between here and India on a weekly basis.

In just a few hours, I will start the incredibly long journey home. I'm not sure if I mean that literally, in that it will take a lot of time, or metaphorically, in that it will take a major psychological adjustment to slip back into life in the U.S. Both, I guess.

The program ended on something of a low note for me. The last week of classes and testing were depressing, demoralizing, devastating, all those de- words in English apply to the situation. What was already a bad situation was made worse on Friday when one of the teachers said something to me that just confirmed that my summer was a failure. I had to go up to the roof of the Institute and sit and cry for awhile before I could sit down with my classmates for the final lunch. Only yesterday did I realize that the whole thing was probably a misunderstanding--the teacher answered the question I asked, not the question beneath the question. Well, that makes sense to me, anyway, and I'm sorry I didn't see that last Friday.

Andyji, too, took the testing pretty hard, so we two went to Agra on Sunday to try and jolt ourselves out of our depressed states. Andyji bounces back much more quickly than I do, of course, so he was really okay before the train even left the Jaipur station, but I took awhile longer. It didn't help that two different people in Agra told me my Hindi was bad. Anyway, the Tajmahal is everything you might hope it would be. I'm not sure I even complained about the $17 admission fee once I'd parted with it. I'd even pay $20 if they'd consider lighting the Tajmahal at night. We had an awesome, unobstructed view from the rooftop of our hotel, but once darkness fell, that was kind of it. Still, sitting on the rooftop drinking Mirinda at sunset was a fantastic experience. Some neighbors were flying kites (we were so schooled, Andyji), and when it got dark, bats much bigger than breadboxes began flying overhead. The call to prayers came at sunset, and even I had to take a moment to gather my emotions.

I was kind of hoping my shoes would get stolen when we were wandering about the Tajmahal complex barefoot, because that would have been a good story: "My shoes got stolen at the Tajmahal! I had to walk back to the hotel with no shoes!" but that didn't happen. I did, however, get thoroughly and firmly groped during the security search. There's no way you need to squeeze my breasts that hard to find out if I'm carrying explosives. I'm just saying.

Andyji stayed on in Agra, planning to take a public bus to Mathura and then Delhi. I took the train back to Jaipur alone. At first I was a little nervous about it, and indeed, 15 seconds into the train station, a man made an inappropriate gesture toward me. I very nearly clocked him, but at the last second turned my fist into one of those "wtf?" twisty-hand gestures that are hard to stop once you start them, and sneered "Kya hua? Aap kaun hain?" He just stared, which made me wish even more that I'd just slugged him. Anyway, I spent some time in the ladies' waiting room, then caught my train 2 hours late. It was a little confusing because the # and name of the train changed, but luckily I am capable of asking for the Jaipur jaanewalla train. This old guy in the seat next to me basically watched out for me, and he understood everything I tried to say, which was reassuring.

Once back in Jaipur, I got the best rickshaw price I've ever gotten, I couldn't even in good conscience try to bargain it down. When I said so, the tout said, "Yes, madam, I know you are a local, that is why I said pachchis (25) and not pachas (50)." And when I got in the rickshaw and told the driver where I wanted to go, he turned around and said (in English), "Oh, you are a local." And later in the day, a rickshaw driver actually gave me a free ride for a couple of blocks. I expected him to try and get R20 out of me, but he said no, he just wanted to make sure I left Jaipur with a good experience. Coming back here from Agra felt like coming home, and that was nice.

I'm so ready to go to my real home, though. I wish I could fold a few people up and take them with me in my pocket, but otherwise, I need to go back to where I understand the rules better and am in charge of my own life. I'll be back, but not until I've had time to regather my self-esteem and energy.

So, the whole "blogging the trip to India" thing didn't work out very well. It isn't that I don't have time to blog, and it isn't that I can't afford the R10/hour fee for internet access. It's that I just don't have anything to say. Some of the silence is due to the fact that every day life is just that...every day and pedestrian. I get up at 7:00, shower, study for 30 minutes, have breakfast at 8:00, walk to the Institute with Andy and Andrew at 8:45, spend the next five hours learning Hindi through various means and media, then go home, bathe (because by then I seriously need it, even if the water in the bath bucket is dirty), try to get out of eating dinner, study, sleep. There's a lot of variety in the afternoon, but not so much that I feel like writing about it.

Yesterday, for instance, I stayed in the Institute until 5:00 p.m. reading my book, after which I went to a coffee shop at Gaurav Tower and read some more. Took an autorickshaw home, and who's to say the driver wasn't intoxicated? Not me. The day before, Andy and I wandered around the marble-cutting area of the old city, watching men work on life-size sculptures of Krishna and Ram. We watched two different groups of women make bangles. Some kids threw rocks at us. Some kids asked us for money. I bought a marble turtle that reminded me of Saidji ("Yeh aapka face hey!").

I guess I could have written something about my trip to Himachal Pradesh. A group of us went up to Shimla for mid-term break. The nicest thing about Shimla (except, of course, for the cool, wet weather), was the shower. This is the first shower I have had since arriving in Jaipur. That is a big deal, given how much we sweat here. I also liked Shimla because no one hassled me. When people are complaining about how Indian men behave on the streets? Don't roll your eyes, because it's all true, except probably worse.

We went to Pushkar for "Hindi Camp." I followed Walterji and one of our teachers, Upmaji, around a lot, and tried to figure out what they were saying. Unfortunately, they were speaking Hindi, so that was a total loss. Not much connecting with my teachers. In class, they are the kindest, most patient "koi bat nahin" kind of people. Outside of class, I grope for things to say that a) I can say in Hindi and b) don't make me sound like a kindergarten student. This is always a failure.

The biggest challenge here has been living with a host family--or host person, since there is only one woman who owns our house. I feel constantly watched and monitored, because that's how it works here. Unfortunately, being just short of 39 years old, I am used to making my own decisions. I am becoming a master at deception, inventing friends with whom to eat at the drop of a hat, just so I can leave the house without hassle. There is no real privacy, and after awhile, that wears on you. Also, the upper classes of India eat a lot of food. People are constantly trying to shove food down my throat, and there is no protocol for refusing, you are always supposed to accept. I am often faced with the choice of being openly and confrontationally rude, or eating more and throwing up at the table. This is the big challenge for me. So, I guess the message there is that if I come back to do research, I need my own apartment.

I also need a scooter, washing machine and iron, but that is something to be covered in another post, another time.

How many weeks? I've lost track. I think only four tomorrow, but I never have any good idea about the date here. I'm out of the loop with news, too. I try to read the paper every morning, but I usually just end up looking at the pictures because the words are too hard. Sometimes someone brings in an English newspaper, but the only American news comes from the entertainment world. So, we know about Ashley (sp?) Simpson, but not about George Bush.

Yesterday, I ended the day feeling like classes were going pretty well. Today, I am really depressed and tired of the whole endeavor. Can I drop out of school? No. I just have to climb the wall, I guess, instead of beating my head over it.

Maybe it's just that I've seen too many movies this week. Tuesday we went to see Krrish!, the second half of which I liked. Overall, I'm afraid that Krrish! once again proved my argument that all films are better when they include Preity Zinta. Last night, we went to see Superman Returns, dubbed in Hindi. Junk. It's interesting how all the American students were saying, "Oh, Krrish! what a stupid movie, who believes anyone could do that?" yet somehow managed to accept that Superman can stop an airplane from crashing into a baseball field. Stupid. Superman Returns definitely needed more songs and dancing.

On a slightly but not completely related note, I'd just like to point out that Beth and I are definitely not existing in the same India. Not that I'm complaining, but I could use a little time in that luxury hotel right now. Well, not really. I like what I've got. A cold Limca, though, I could do with that.

Three weeks, celebrated last night by Andrew, Priya and I at Mocha, where we watched Argentina play Brazil in the World Cup.

Right now I'm suffering from what can only be heat exhaustion. I know I've got a good sunburn going on, despite a head covering and sunblock. I am generally all about our field trips, but I have to say that running around the old city in 100 degree weather is not the smartest idea anyone has ever had. Still, we finally got to the City Palace and the Hawa Mahal today. I am planning a return trip to the Hawa Mahal after monsoon season arrives to take pictures of the jantar mantar.

Today we had a great thali dinner at Surya Mahal--the bean dal was great. I have to say the food has been really good. I complain about it all the time because it's simply too much to eat and there is no (polite) way to refuse more, but it's really quite good. I wouldn't say no to a good pizza or pasta situation, but so far, I've manage to cope with all the vegetables except bitter melon. Mango season is supposed to end in something like 8 days, and then hopefully we will move on to another fruit.

I'm making progress in Hindi (slowly slowly--that's a Hindi construction for you to contemplate), and doing quite a bit out on my own. I've had a couple of unfortunate encounters with rickshaw drivers (I kind of thought one was going to end up with people pulling out sticks and beating on me), but overall am doing pretty good with them. It's good to be somewhat independent, even if my host person doesn't encourage it. We got a really good rickshaw price back from Gaurav Tower last night, which means we're all making progress in our cultural assimilation. I'll never fall for that "As you wish, Madam," line, let me tell you.

So, yes, I'm in India. Internet access can be pretty sketchy, but I finally found an I-way internet cafe that seems to be okay (4 hours for 50 rupees, that's roughly 4 hours for a dollar). Of course, they could be siphoning off my passwords, but I'll never know until something bad happens.

I've been in India for a little over two weeks now, and I feel as if I've lived a thousand lifetimes. I have a greater admiration for travel writers now--how do you possibly sum up a place like this in words? I could write about the dead dog I saw on my way to the Institute today, but that would not tell you how charming the stray dogs can really be when they dig their homes in the ever-present piles of sand. Today, a little boy simultaneously emptied his bowels on the sidewalk and yelled out "Hello!" to me. What to make of such efficient multi-tasking?

We are all anxiously awaiting the monsoon. I've been through 2 pre-monsoon storms and they were pretty impressive. Wading home after the torrential rains made me very glad for all of my immunizations. I am so investing in Dettol stock when I get home.

My Hindi is improving, but I'm still absolutely non-functional and illiterate, which demonstrates how bad my Hindi was to begin with. Jaipur deals in tourism, though, so there is a lot of English spoken, enough that when I mess up the numbers for 50 and 25 I can revert to English to re-bargain the price of an autorickshaw. I have mixed feelings about taking a cycle rickshaw. On one hand, they are much better for the pollution problem. On the other, what human should have to drag a rickshaw behind them? On the other, if they weren't pedaling rickshaws, wouldn't they be out of the only job they're ever going to get? It's hard to say.

Two weeks down, six and a half to go.

Well, I'm packed, well in advance of my departure date. Packing really wasn't on my schedule until tomorrow a.m., but I figured...why not get it over with? I don't have any wise words about packing for India--all I can say is that I'm not taking much in the way of clothes. I'm trying to decide if I need to bring my tennis shoes. Indiamike says no, and Indiamike has become my god, so...two fewer things to pack. I've got a lot of awkwardly shaped things (small toys for the host family, for instance) that just don't work well in a backpack, but I guess if they get crushed, that's life. My carry on is suspiciously light, making me wonder what I'm forgetting. I guess I have 40 hours or so to figure it out. I actually feel like I've overpacked, but it's hard to know what's superfluous when you've never visited a country before.

Since I'm packed, that means I'm free to spend the two nights watching Bollywood movies, right? I've still got Parineeta and Dil Ne Jise Apna Kahaa. I am way hoping I get to see Krrish! in Jaipur, even though I expect the movie to be horrible.

I guess I should catch up with my life. Mostly I've just been lounging around the house, alternating between a "JFC, I'm going to India!" panic and a "God, I'm bored" malaise. This morning was lost to the university bureaucracy as I tried to straighten out billing/insurance issues. Going to India w/out insurance? Probably not a good idea, and I don't intend to test that hypothesis.

Also a problem: my airline tickets arrived yesterday, and instead of returning right after my program ends, I'm in India for several additional days. Free vacation, sounds good, you might think. The problem is, my return flight lands me in Indianapolis just 3.5 hours before my lease in C-U expires. How do I get all of my stuff in a truck, moved to Rantoul, and get my old apartment cleaned by 2:30 August 9? This is a problem, and I haven't figured out what I'm going to do. We spent last weekend renting the new apartment, and I thought I had everything under control, but now I don't, so I'm not sure what is going to happen here.

Other than that, I'm just trying to chill ("Love, love is to chill."). We spent Friday at the Speedway, which was TOTALLY AWESOME. It is difficult to describe what a car looks like going 220 miles an hour. So fast your eyes can't track it. I thought stock cars were speedy little things--wrong. There was a lot to take away from the whole Carb Day experience, but I think what I really learned was that spotters aren't the safety net I once thought they were. Paul Dana's death makes a lot more sense now. I don't care what the spotters are saying, and how much evasive action you take--at those speeds, well...yeah. Too fast. But so cool. And thanks to Mr. Dana for the push to ethanol. I can enjoy the sport much more now.

So, I've finished all my jabs for India (Hep A booster, polio booster), and am halfway through my typhoid regimen, which is making me sick every other day. I start the anti-malarial meds the day before I leave. You'd think no one had ever traveled to India and lived to tell about it the way the travel clinic goes on about all the paths to death in South Asia ($500 for a preventative series of rabies shots? No thanks.). Part of me wanted to JUST SAY NO to the polio booster just because I was irritated at the doom-and-gloom tone of the nurse, but I'd probably be the one person to catch polio in Jaipur this year if I went through with that plan.

I have tons of stuff to do before I leave on June 8. Most importantly, I need to write a paper proposal and re-work said paper in case it gets accepted (the paper is due the week I get back if accepted. It's already written, but needs at least one more re-write). But I find myself endlessly distracted by this whole India thing. I visit Indiamike obsessively. I try not to visit Beth obsessively, but it seems possible that she is exactly as distracted as I am, and therefore good company. I've read the Ramayana. I've read travel advice from Lonely Planet, Rough Guide, and Footprints. I have watched every Hindi film within reach, and some. I even joined up at a local video store last weekend because neither the local libraries nor Netflix can keep up with my Bollywood demands. (As a side note, Netflix is starting to really, really suck. They are so not earning their money, and if they keep up this super slow service, I'm leaving).

I was trying to figure out how Beth managed to spend $600 to prepare for her trip to India. So far, I've spent about $70, and $25 of that was on clothes. I guess she's probably buying more clothes than I am since I will have a clothing stipend to spend on arrival. Also, I realized today that my $70 doesn't include the $200 or so I've spent at the stupid travel clinic. Nor does it include the $90 I spent on the visa ($60 for the visa, $30 for postage). I have to buy a few gifts for my host family (hard to buy when you have never met any of them), and I need to buy a notebook and pens/pencils for class. And some water purifying tabs (once I decide what kind I really want to use for two months). Other than that, I'm good. [ETA: I just spent $30 on water purifying tabs, so I'm quickly catching up to Beth. I don't really like the taste of purified water, but it's a lot more convenient--not to mention environmentally friendly--to purify water instead of chasing after bottled water every day. Also, a shout out to Grayson, whose last name I don't know, and about whom I had more or less forgotten until I re-read one of my old travel journals this weekend. Grayson, who had the room across from ours in the Dvorets Molodezhi in Leningrad (1988), taught me two important things: 1) never pack more than you're willing to carry; and 2) always take Kool-Aid for a break from that purified water taste.]

I am more or less following Travelling Tim's packing advice, leaving out a few things that seem specific to rambling. I have a mosquito net, but I'm not going to take it. Since I'm staying in one place for two months, I'll just have one made to fit whatever bed I'll be sleeping in after I get there. It doesn't have to be lightweight because I won't be carrying it around. Most of the things on his list I already have, though, purchased long ago either for our Thames Path ramble, our trip to Costa Rica, or one of our annual camping trips. In fact, I'm still re-using (for at least the sixth time) the gallon freezer bags we used for waterproofing on the Thames Path. Today I even tossed two things on the "take to India" pile that first traveled with me to the Soviet Union in 1988. Is that good or bad?

My last task is to put together my own guide book. Printing is free for Catherine at the university library, so we're going to print everything I might need, and bind it together with some stuff I've photocopied. I've made a six-page photo album of "life at home" to include, so my host family will have some idea what I've been up to over here. I've also copied a lot of pages out of books to bind into a research volume on the jantar mantar. Hindi text books will be purchased in Jaipur. I can't think of anything I've forgotten, but that is probably because...well...I've forgotten it.

Today a professor made me cry, but in a good way (finally!). Just six posts (but fifteen weeks) ago I was suggesting that I was woefully under-prepared for a seminar. This indeed turned out to be true, not just angst-ridden speculation on my part. I tanked the midterm essay, and while I can certainly point to things like travel and funerals that contributed to my overall sense of intellectual malaise at that point of the semester, that would really just be me trying to save face. I tanked, no real explanation needed. However, the professor let me re-write the essay, and I promised I would do better in the future. That mid-term was a one-time aberration, I promise! I did rewrite the essay, and she seemed genuinely pleased that on my second attempt, I did not sound like quite as big an idiot as I did on my first attempt.

Today I stuck my head in the door of said professor's door as I was passing by, and she said that although she hasn't graded my final paper, she was very pleased. The words "fantastic" and "beautifully written" were used, as was the phrase "you fulfilled your promise and more." So, good for me, I say. That might be the only time in my entire graduate career I hear that, so I'm writing it down for everybody to see.

I swear to god I saw a girl running laps in the Engineering Library this morning.

Well, the sign outside the conference hotel in Savannah heavily suggested that we would be seeing some alligators. Or, at least, that if we did see some alligators, we should not feed them. The trip was a failure in that we didn't see even a single alligator.

Just so everyone knows: driving on the interstate across Georgia in a rainstorm is a BAD IDEA. You remember the night the lights went out in Georgia? Well, apparently they stayed out, because it's the darkest damn state I've ever seen. I mean, the astronomer in me hates light pollution, right? But my god, would it kill you all to put a street light or two near the off-ramps? I think your road-side commerce numbers would take a dramatic leap upward if you did. I'm just saying that I'm not getting off the interstate during a rainstorm in the black of night if I can't see what might be waiting for me. Just saying.

We did eventually pull off into the great dark night and get Catherine some boiled peanuts.

The conference was fine, and I learned a thing or two. It was fun having Jim around even though we only attended one session together (and he was late and then left early). Catherine apparently had a good time learning the history of Savannah. That's another thing--you want to know how to tell when you're over-interpreting your town for tourists? When you feel compelled to put up a sign telling everyone where Oglethorpe pitched his tent, that's when. In case you're all wondering where that might be, the sign/bench is in front of Hyatt Regency Hotel on Bay Street (see the Oglethorpe Bench Monument here). I'm serious. I have been trying to think of a more intensely interpreted location, and I just can't think of one. Possibly Gettysburg, but a) you need all the signage you can get to understand troop movement at Gettysburg and b) I still think Savannah has more.

On the way home, we stopped at Chick/Chatt (although we only saw the Chick part of that relationship). I think this is our first Western Theater battlefield, and I liked it enough that I'm writing my heritage paper (due Friday!) on it. Well, Chickamauga and the nearby lost battlefield of Franklin, Tennessee. We couldn't quite force ourselves into the tourist hell of Lookout Mountain (SEE RUBY FALLS), but plan to do it before we leave the Midwest.

There's probably other stuff I could write about if I tried a little harder. Churchill's Pub serves a good beer (says Catherine), as does Moon River Brewing Company (acoustics aren't great at Moon River, but it's your chance to eat in a building that a) is directly adjacent to a demolition site and b) once lost its roof to Hurricane David. I ate two pralines in two days. Over-priced, but good. The shipping traffic on the river is awesome. There was a dead body found in a nearby hotel. Catherine met a nice guy named Mr. Duncan who has a map shop with his wife (conveniently named V & J Duncan Antique Maps, Prints & Books). She bought me two maps of India (one from 1906 and one from 1860) and an 1858 restrike of an engraving depicting a Holi festival. We found out that Nashville, TN is only a 5-hour drive from Bloomington. We found out that Savannah is more like a 15-hour drive from Bloomington (Mapquest lies).

Yesterday, the Hindu Student Council celebrated Holi. I discovered that it is a very nice way to pay back students who have exasperated me all semester. Unfortunately, not all of them attended, so I had to make do with focusing my super soaker on those who did show up, maybe they'll pass my message onto the rest. It was fun, and for some reason, out of all the people the reporter talked to, he chose to take a quote from the old, atheist white lady about the celebration for the article in the student newspaper (that is, me).

What I really discovered yesterday was that just because the doctor said, "It would be good for your knee if you try to move it around and use it," she did not mean "Run around Illini Grove with a group of people half your age." I think I mentioned to the three people who care that my knee was not broken, but it might as well have been, I think. The doctor was filling my ears with frightening speculations about "wiring the knee cap together" before I proved to her it wasn't broken by having negative X-rays. I figured it wasn't broken, and therefore put off going to the doctor for two weeks after I hurt myself, but it was in kind of a between stage with pain so I thought I should get it checked. It hurt less than my arm did the last time I broke it, but more than my arm did the last time I didn't break it. (That last sentence probably makes sense to no one but me.) Anyway, it isn't so much painful right now as just weird. I can press on my knee and feel the liquid trying to escape the pressure of my fingers. It makes me sick to my stomach, but it doesn't hurt.

Today, as I was driving up in Rantoul, I saw a billboard for McDonald's that said "Free Coffee Monkeys" and I thought, wow, gotta get me some of them. Then I realized it said "Free Coffee Mondays" and wasn't nearly so excited. I have no idea what a Coffee Monkey might be, but the moment someone invents one, I'm going to buy it. Maybe it can sit next to our Touchdown Monkey. Or, I guess, our Extrapoint Monkey, because we couldn't afford the Touchdown Monkey.

The real point of this post is this: how does fast food work? I haven't had fast food since...oh...some time in 2004, and this may be why I'm confused. Today I needed some quick caffeine (yeah, yeah, I know I should be finishing that project that drives my need for caffeine instead of writing this, but still), so I decided to get a Diet Coke at McDonald's. So, here's me sitting at the drive through, thinking this: "Do I need to sleep tonight at some point? Yes, so I should just get a small. *Do* I need to sleep tonight? Can I stay up all night and finish this? No, I need to sleep tonight. Maybe get a medium so I can stay up until 2 or 3 a.m."

OrderBox: Welcome to McDonald's, can I take your order?
Me: Can I have a Large Diet Coke? [Notice I screw up my own order.]
OrderBox: That will be 75 cents at the first window.
Me: [Look at OrderBox screen where it says "ExtraLarge Diet Coke 0.75" and think WTF? I ordered a Large, which should have cost $1.50. Drive to first window, wondering why I didn't say Medium.]
Me: Did you say 75 cents?
OrderBoy: You wanted a Large, right? I just gave you an ExtraLarge for half the price.
Me: Am I supposed to understand that?
OrderBoy: I just do what I'm told. I don't understand it, either.

What possible benefit can they can reap from spontaneously upgrading my order for 1/2 the price? If I'd ordered a small for 75 cents, would I have still gotten an ExtraLarge?