In India, as around the world, once work is done, people like to put on more comfortable, casual clothes. Some people put on Western clothes like sweatpants or jeans, but the traditional outfit for this situation is the lungee. A lungee is a rectangular piece of cloth that is wrapped around the waist, much like a towel. It is generally full-length (down to the ankles) and the bottom can be tucked into the waist to make it half-length, ending around the knees.

For Dwilale, it is traditional to get clothes, and I got a lungee. I had been coming home and just stripping down to my boxers, but then I would have to put on pants if someone came to the door or if the cook came. Lungees are appropriate casual wear, much like sweats, and can be worn in relaxed company or even to the store or on the train.

At first, I didn't know how to wear one, and Dolly's cousin had to show me the secret... Indian men wear a thin rope (they say ribbon) tied around their waist. This ribbon stays on pretty much permanently, during bathing, etc, and is pulled down over the top of the lungee to keep it up. The lungee I got is white with a red border and looks like a Roman robe when I put it on. Its comfortable and allows air flow around the body on sweaty days... even though its late October, its still touching the 90's every now and then.

Most of the food we have been eating has been at the JSS canteen or prepared by our cook. The JSS food is prepared fresh, but in large batches and with an eye on cost, so it shares a lot of characteristics with institutional food, though it is still generally better than college food (although as I write that I am craving a low quality, greasy burger and fries). The cook's food is better, but nothing special - the taste is heavy of packaged garam masala.

When we were on our trip, we got fresh South Indian food every day, and it was delicious. In general, the curries were dry, and really well cooked. The vegetable pieces shrunk to small bits, and the flavor was concentrated and intense. One night we had egg curry, which is similar in some ways to scrambled eggs, except wheras scrambled eggs might be cooked for 4 minutes, these must have been cooked for 30. There was also as much onion as egg, and the result was a strong flavor that stood up well with rice (recipe will follow soon - I will try it myself and make sure it works).

Dolly and I went to Vijaywada over the Diwale holiday to visit her aunt and to make a side trip to Hyderabad to retrieve the rest of our luggage. Vijaywada seemed to be a very nice city. It has about 2.5 million people, and was very clean. I don't think I saw any litter, and not even any cows in the city limits. The roads and autos were also much nicer than in Bilaspur, but I think thats more a reflection of the state of Bilaspur than of Vijaywada.

We did not get much good sleep. The first night was on a train, where we arrived in Vijaywada at 3AM. My shoes were stolen by a begger during an afternoon nap. We spent the next 2 nights on buses to and from Hyderabad. The two nights after that were spent at Padama's (Dolly's aunt's) house where the first night we were bitten by bugs. The second night we decided to sleep on the floor, so Padama could have the bedroom, but she insisted on sleeping on the floor as well, and snored loudly, so we returned to the bedroom. The last night we woke at 2:30 AM to catch a 4AM train home.

Dolly's aunt is very punctual with regards to food. Breakfast is at 8AM, lunch is at 1, and dinner is at 8PM. She would wake us up at 8AM, "Babu, babu, black tea, black tea. Dolly, Dolly, coffee, coffee". She would then insist on us showering after breakfast. Other than that she didn't care what we did, and let us nap whenever we wanted. She is also an excellent cook, and prepared us many delicious curries and sweets. The topic of conversation was always the next meal, and I don't think she even bothered to figure out what had brought us to India. Punctual meals were what was important.

I didn't end up with a good sense of what Diwale is about, except that it is the "festival of lights". I also know that its to celebrate the return of Ram from exile, but nothing special was done in the house. In the evening, the city celebrated by setting of firecrackers, to a degree that I had never seen before. It sounded like a war zone, with loud noises coming from all directions, including rooftops and balconies. When we took a walk, every other store and house had a group of people setting off bombs and rockets, from little firecrackers to big glittering explosions in the sky. There was a thick layer of spent fireworks on the side of the road, but amazingly, the next time we took a walk it was all cleaned up.

Might not be any updates in the next week. We are going to Vijaywada for Diwale, and might not have access to the Internet.

The other day we were at the vegetable stand, which is an outdoors under an awning in front of a storage area. The vendor sits on a concrete platform in back of the vegetables, and the vegetables themsleves are in baskets on tiers of tables/shelves. Near the back was some spinach we wanted, and Dolly reached forward to examine which bunches were freshest, and she put her hand next to one of the other baskets to support her as she leaned in.

After a moment, she jumped back with a scream. Then she stopped, composed herself, thought of what just happened and screamed again. "A lizard licked me!" It was evening time near dinner, and so there were many people. They looked over, expecting to so a giant snake or lizard, but all that was there was a cute, tiny frog, whose wet skin must brushed against her hand.

Dolly was so embarassed that she went and hid a few stores down while I finished vegetable shopping.

We've noticed a phenomenon here where people ask us how much everything costs. It started with cell phones and cameras and things we had brought, and we would always give a lower number than what things actually cost because we were a little embarassed, especially after we found out what people made.

It became even more noticeable when the cook started working in our house. Everything new that would come in - the pillows, the table - she would ask how much it cost. Even a packet of litte rice things that you fry, which had the price tag on them - she asked. When we brought in our new refrigerator and were in front of the building, she asked, and then the neighbors came by and were asking the same.

Its not just how much things cost, its also salaries. Especially since for so long we didn't know that was a difficult topic. As Americans, that is an uncomfortable topic of conversation, as both number that are perceived as too high or two lead to different types of awkwardness.

Apparently all that is normal here, and I can give no reason for why.

We are now in possession of transportation, and have four wheels for the two of us. Two bicycles, purchased new for a grand total of $100 for the pair. Both are heavy and metal and single gear, and Dolly's is a pink woman's model with a basket on the front. We are learning to ride in the crazy traffic, in streets full of potholes and cows and drivers heading the wrong way. We are now sometimes among the drivers going in the wrong direction - on divided streets you just go the direction you're headed until there's a convenient place to cross to the proper side of the road. We also survived several roundabouts on the ride home.

Today is cool, which is nice as it had been unseasonably warm for several weeks. We had been torn during that time between sleeping with the door open to allow cool air in and keeping the door closed to keep the noise out. Being a quiet neighborhood on the outskirts of town, one would expect little noise, and that is normally the case. The offenders are not hooligans, or animals, or car horns - it is whistles from security guards. Their purpose is unclear; they seem only to be here for show. Some houses were broken into in the recent past, and the security guards are a reminder of the forces of law and order, though they are not actually part of that force. From what I have seen of these gentlemen, they are older and not very large. A competent burglar would have their choice of overpowering or outrunning these guards. Neither would be neccessary, as the guards blow a whistle every few steps, so you know exactly where they are at all times, no lookouts needed. This occurs at all hours of the night, so you may be woken up at 3 in morning by a whistle intended to let the bad guys know to stay in the house they are stealing from for a few more minutes.