Thunderbirds are go.

After a week of shopping, failing to learn hindi, arguing with tuktuk drivers and lying around complaining about how hot it is, I finally started work.

I was given a placement in the slums of Ambedkar Nagur, in west Jaipur, teaching English and computer skills to girls and women alongside a German girl, Larissa, who had also just arrived.

The first bit was a little awkward. The two of us and seven Indian women, varying in age from 12-30, sat crosslegged in a tiny, bright yellow room around two chunky grey monitors that looked like something Marty MyFly would have been familiar with. 

Ok, not quite this bad.

We all smiled at each other for about 20 minutes, with Larissa and I occasionally trying to make conversation and learn names, but the women just giggled or gave us the classic Indian head wobble. A small crowd of children and goats gathered at the door to stare at us and try to touch Larissa’s blonde hair. Finally I decided to get out my photo album and just start talking, whether they understood me or not, and this turned out to be the right move- they all wanted to look at the pictures and give their opinion on my family; and then we managed to get them to go around in a circle and tell us about theirs and this broke the ice a little and gave us an idea of their individual English skills.

The consensus was that they thought my niece was very pretty, my boyfriend looked very strong*, my mother was also very pretty, my dad looked friendly but funny** and they all stared at the pictures of my sister Suzanne for ages and wanted to know if she had been in any Hollywood movies. Story of my life.

Conversation I have a lot: "Wow, your sisters really hot. You guys don't look alike."  "... Thanks."

After that, we got onto to some computer work and although we didn’t get a lot done, I definitely feel like we made some progress. It’s awesome how eager they are to learn and I can’t wait to go back on Monday.

*They were all appropriately scandalized and thrilled at my admission of having a boyfriend.

** It’s because he was wearing short shorts. I keep telling him…

Bromantically Involved.

In my first week out and about India, I was really surprised and impressed to see so many men holding hands, hugging and snuggling- especially since I had been warned that PDA's between men and women (even married couples) are a definite faux pas. I assumed that this was a sign that India was way more gay-friendly than I had been led to believe.

But, no. We asked our coordinator about it and she explained that there's just a very strong culture of male friendship, and because the gay community is so out of sight(and thus out of mind) in most parts of India, nobody would ever presume to connect brotherly hand holding and canoodling with actually being gay.

I think the whole thing is really sweet and lovely, and I'd love to see Kiwi men following in their example. (Karl and Lewis? Chi and Pop? Shaun and Daniel? Yeah?)

Thunderbolts and Lightning, Very Very Frightening

Tonight there was an electrical storm above the city. I don't know if it was fork lightning or plate lightning, but I decided to take my chances and sit outside to watch it for a while. 

Weather is awesome. 

I hope it starts raining too, because I'm crazy hot.

Cow of the Week

I’m yet to see a kitten in India so instead of Kitten on the Week we’re doing Cow of the Week, guys.

Cows are considered holy in the Hindu tradition because of their life sustaining properties- they are seen as mothers; and as such, they are shown the same respect and tenderness that any good Hindu would show towards their own mother.

The holy cows in Jaipur are so badass. They wander around, chillin out, relaxin, maxin all cool- right through crowds, traffic, walkways- they know no one’s going to mess with them.

This specific cow I met in Bapu bazaar when I was shopping for salwar kameez- she came up to me and an Indian person explained that because the cow liked me* I will have good luck and many sons. Score.

* The cow clearly picked me because I am a vegetarian and she was like, "Yo, this chick is mad cool and won't eat me. Imma rock up here."

I want one.

This little girl came up to me outside the cinema when I was taking pictures and asked me to photograph her. She got so excited when I showed her the picture on the screen, I wish I could have given her a copy. How pretty is she? Look at her big eyes!

Bollywood > Hollywood

I went to the cinema in India for the first time today; and I LOVED it. Five of us crammed into a tuktuk and went downtown to see the latest smash hit, ‘Singham’. And no lie, it was literally the most enjoyable film I’ve seen this year, despite being in a different language.

The movie is about a heavily mustachioed cop in tight pants who kills himself after being framed for corruption by a gangster and then comes back to life after a song and dance sequence by a river and beats tons of people up and gets in tons of car chases. He also shacks up* with this hot chick, despite the fact his wife and child from his previous life are still hanging around and the film never addresses the fact that this must be mad awkward.**

Halfway through the film a brawl started in the cinema; and about 60 guys got involved and started beating the crap out of each other. The police came in and dragged a bunch of people away, everyone cheered, the movie continued.

Going to the movies in India is so much fun. The cinema was beautiful, the tickets were cheap and everyone was so engaged in the film- cheering, clapping, whistling. I watched a few other Bollywood films before I came too, and I noticed in all of them that they have taken the best aspects of Western filmmaking and left out all the pretentiousness. I can’t wait to go see another one!

*He shacks up Indian stylez. So no kissing, groping, nudity- not even very intense cuddling. But you could tell they were in love because of the dramatic close ups and unexpected dance sequences with matching outfits.

** Ok, I think this is what the movie was about. But I only speak like ten words of Hindi so I may have missed the mark a bit.

Our cinema. There was popcorn, score.

This is where Princess Jasmine lives, right?

On my first day at the volunteer house a group of lovely British girls invited me to come with them to drive all night to Agra and then watch the sun rise over the Taj Mahal.

Very romantic and adventurous, right?

Well, it turns out our driver was blind in one eye, illiterate, didn’t speak English and didn’t seem to understand Hindi, and had no idea where Agra was, let alone the Taj Mahal. He also kept swerving to intentionally hit and kill wild dogs. By my count, he got four and one parrot. But we made it in the end, and even though we didn’t get to see the sunrise over the mausoleum we did get to check it out before all the tourists and the touts got there.

The Taj Mahal is just as beautiful as it looks in the millions of photographs you’ve seen of it, and I almost wish I’d never seen a picture of it before just because I think it would be so amazing to see it for the first time. As it is, when I first saw it I was kind of like “Yes, there it is. That’s what it’s meant to look like. Coolies.” It’s not until I got inside that I started to feel the sense of awe I was looking for- The marble ceiling is amazing; and the center, where the coffins are, has the kind of hushed solemnity that reminded me of in the catacombs under St Dennis in Paris. It was the first time I’d heard something close to quiet since I came to India.

It made me a little sad to see inside because of the deterioration- cracks in the marble have been patched up with wood gum, and missing chunks of masonry have been replaced with painted wood.* Hopefully they up the restoration budge in the next few years so it doesn’t get too much worse.

Side note: It costs 20 rupees for an Indian person to get in… and 750 for a non-Indian. Way to institutionalize racism, guys. Geez.

* I am entitled to be concerned about these kinds of things because I have two thirds of an Art History degree.

This is the back view. I am helpfully pointing at it so you don't miss it.

I made it.

Jaipur is beautiful but the mosquitoes are professional killers.
xx

Things to Do in Sydney Airport

1. Try on all of the Cartier jewelry. How many $1,5000 watches can YOU fit on one arm?
2. Get eyelash extensions. Congratulations, you now look like a baby giraffe.
3. Make friends with the guys at the Lonely Planet store. They will let you choose the documentary to play in the store, charge your iPod for you and give you their staff discount card to buy food.
4. Use said card to buy many frozen cokes.
5. Put on all the perfumes in the duty free at once to create a the super saiyan of fragrances.
6. Furiously scrub at wrists and neck until stench is gone.
7. More frozen coke.
8. Get a manicure.
9. Borrow travel pillow from Lonely Planet guys, nap by the gate for rest of day.
10. ????
11. PROFIT.

Eyelash extensions are my latest big discovery.

I changed my voicemail message. It felt good.

"Hey, It's Frances. I'm in India, don't bother leaving a message because I'm not coming back for ages. Bye!"

4 for you, Glen Coco! You go, Glen Coco!

In other cat related news for the week, my cat Coco Chanel is sitting on my chest and she smells amazing. Like talcum powder, fresh cookies and clean laundry.
Apparently cats have antibacterial saliva and thats why they smell so good.
Coco can never be Kitten of the Week as she has been disqualified for past misdeeds*, but I thought she deserved a little recognition for consistently smelling the best.

I think if I ever win the lottery my life goal will be adjusted from 'museum curator' to 'woman with a hundred cats'.

* No cat that has thrown up on my bed while I've been in it can ever be Cat of the Week. Rules are rules.

Kitten of the Week

Braid kitten loves braids.

Who else loves fishtail braids? They're the best.

Goodbye, pretty kitty committee!

My awesome friends arranged a goodbye evening of fun and excitement for me. We went to see Bridesmaids, got medium to high drunk in the cinema, had amazing cheap chinese on the Left Bank, drank much wine, and then went to a handcuff party.

Having crutches in while partying is fun for the following reasons.
1. It gives me an excuse to wear my crazy expensive floor length gowns (gotta cover up my unflattering leg wrap)
2. If you loudly announce, "I am a cripple and I need to get through!" crowds of drunk people part like the freakin red sea
3. Bouncers will carry you up stairs.*
4. Nobody asks you for ID
5. You can have fun telling increasingly dramatic stories** about how you were injured to the billions of strangers that ask

I had so much fun but late in the evening I got very melancholy about how much I'm going to miss Alyse and Rachelle. They are both fun incarnate and I never fail to have an awesome night with them- and not just the usual drunk fun, but epic life affirming fun. Next time I see them it's going to be Halloween, which is pretty much a high holy day to us, so there is that to look forward to.

The finest tofu money can buy.

Quick Fucks at the Kumara. All class, all the time- that's us.

Self portrait in the bathroom of the Kumara. I'm going to pretend not turning the flash off while taking a mirror portrait was an artistic decision rather than a losers oversight.

*Well, only the bouncers at the Big Kumara. Have I mentioned it's literally the best place on earth?
** By stories I mean lies. LIES.

xx

Sadface.

I said goodbye to my bf/bff at the airport today. We exchanged longing glances as I hobbled through the metal detector; and then I started sobbing and the gate staff felt bad because they thought it was because they had confiscated my crutch to search it for weapons.

Ours is most definitely the strongest relationship ever forged at the Big Kumara. Bye bye, Karlos. See you in four months. Don't you dare bone any other bitches or imma cut you, nigga.

xx

I, like, totally understand what it's like to live with polio now.

I leapt off a moving bus in platform heels; and ended up spending all day cruising around Christchurch Hospital in a wheelchair. Who could have possibly predicted that chain of events?

Now I'm back home with crutches and a dressing on my leg and apparently I might still be MIA by my India launch date. Seriously, fml.

I spent four hours at the hospital and it was straight up awful. I was bored, in horrible pain and the whole place smelled like dying cats. In my opinion, they should just administer morphine shots upon admission. It would make the patients much more friendly and docile. Have you ever had morphine? You feel like you’re sparkling like a Twilight vampire. You’re just like, ‘I don’t care if I have to sit in this waiting room for the rest of my life, I’m fucking Edward Cullen and I shine like a glorious nebulaaaaaa'

Lady Gaga knows what I'm talkin' bout.

Edmunds, how could you betray me like this?

Shake 'n Bake pancakes are disgusting. That is all.

pizza face

I refused to go out tonight because I didn't like how my eyebrows were looking; so my boyfriend ordered us a pile of stuff from Hells Pizza and we lay in bed eating and watching Catface and the Mighty Boosh. My boyfriend is the shit.

We designed our own pizza because we are free spirits and even though society wants us to order from the menu; we just don't care. It had halapenos, mushroom, three kinds of cheese and a ton of chilli and it was awesome.

This is going to be my last pizza for the next four months- I'm pretty sure they don't have Hells in India. I hope they have a Mc Donalds though- visiting international McDonalds' is one of my favorite pastimes. Did you know in Geneva you can get prawns and tiramisu? And in Mexico you can get a weird McFlurry with cereal in it. Madness, I tell you. Madness.

Kitten of the Week

Triple kitten madness!

Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair

Karl spends all day at work and theres not a hell of a lot to do in Christchurch, so I've been playing good little housewife. Well, to be honest, I've mostly been playing Red Dead Redemption, but there has been a little bit of housewifery.
I've been making Karl awesome lunches to take to work- yesterday he had a bacon sandwich, fresh baked corn bread muffins and a cream soda. BEST PRETEND WIFE EVER.
I also made these super delicious cheesecake cups for us to eat while he watches me play video games. They're blueberry with a chocolate shell; and they will blow your mind. Surprisingly easy recipe after the jump.

I hate places without hills

I'm in Christchurch at the moment visiting my boyfriend for the last time before I leave for India. Christchurch is a cold, flat, barren wasteland* populated by mall emos, criminals and grumpy old ladies but we're having fun anyway.
This weekend we went to the Antarctic museum which was BAD ASS. They have this thing called the '4D movie experience' and I was all like 'ummm the fourth dimension is time, so you guys are dumbasses' but then I went on it and it blew my mind. Seriously.
Also, they have these sad tiny little blue penguins that have all been rescued so they're all deaf or blind or missing some tiny little penguin limbs and watching them flop round the water is really sad but also adorable.
It's fun being here; but it's making me so upset realizing I'm not going to see Karl again for four months- and it's going to be even worse then our usual long distance situation, because I won't even be able to talk to him on the phone for 2 hours a day like I do when I'm in Wellington. How will I let him know everything I've eaten that day, and also the plot of any movies I've watched or dreams I've had??**
It's going to be hard.

xx


* I know they've just had a series of devastating earthquakes, but If I remember correctly it also sucked before the natural disasters hit.
**These are the things we talk about. Also we discuss kittens I want to adopt, new ideas for zombie survival strategies and Karl's facial hair(or lake thereof).