February 24, 2009

all that glitters is not gold

Posted in Health and wellness at 1:00 am by shantiyatra

I had delayed my flight by two weeks and waited with baited breath for the proper ring size to arrive. We called the jeweller a number of times to ensure they honored the time commitment. One thing I learned in India is a yes can often mean no and one month can really mean six weeks. Our saleswoman, Joti, brought out the ring. It was four sizes smaller than what I ordered. My dissatisfaction was evident and my temper was boiling.

Joti: Don’t worry mam we will resize another ring today.
Him: Are you sure you’ll be okay with that imperfection for the rest of your life?
Me: I guess I have no other choice at this point.

"All That Glitters is Not Gold" was the headline posted behind Joti as she rung us up for our purchase of Rs. 14,000. The newspaper headline was referring to gold scams in India. The bulletin board in the shop was assuring me the quality of the product I was buying. I don’t know much about gold or diamonds, but I liked the look of the ring. The business was an enterprise of TATA, their shop was literally the classiest of its kind in town; and so, I felt like I could trust that their product was the level quality they promised.

I had four days left of my trip to uncomfortably "show off" the ring. With the engagement ceremony already passed, others were eager to see it also. Some commented on it’s weight, other’s noted its size (I have significantly larger hands than most Indian women), and some commented on the diamond. Politely I refused to tell the price. I left the country with much assurance from the women around me that I was truly fortunate and blessed.

All that glitters is not gold, just as all that is romantic is not true beauty. The headline turned out to be a prophetic word of caution. A little over a month later that ring was shipped back across the Atlantic for the small fee of $14 USD. I may never know if it reached the intended recipient. Frankly, I wouldn’t be concerned if it is currently on the finger of a dishonest postman’s wife.

February 9, 2009

trip to Hburg

Posted in Uncategorized at 5:53 pm by shantiyatra

7:37 Riding in the train I notice a magazine with a picture of a middle-aged suit and tie sitting in the power pose.  The title of the magazine was "Arrive".  For some irrational reason everything about the magazine irritated me.  I thought of about five other magazine covers that could be equally as cheesy and appropriate for any plane or train.  One was titled "Journey" with a picture of two tweny-something-back-packers headed into the wooded forest eating trail mix on a search to find themselves.  Whoever designed the magazine cover is probably satisfied with their work, and I really have no reason to criticize what they did. 
 
7:45 These were the thoughts steadily streaming through my mind as the train came to a hault.  A few minutes later the conductor made an announcement into the microphone "we have a situation…"  his voice became faint and it sounded as if he was talking near the microphone, but no longer into it.  Five minutes later the conductor came onto the train and asked if we heard the announcement.  With the tempo and tone of a charismatic preacher he announced, "We hit some debris and the breakline is broken. We may need to be rescued….The wheels of Amtrak turn slow.  They’ll make a decision, drink a cup of coffee, eat a donut or two and then give us more information.  We’ll let you know what we find out." 
 
Rescued?  I thought rescued was a word that was only used in dire situations.  People get rescued when their roller coaster stops upside down, or when they break down in the middle of the desert.  People are rescued from burning buildings.  I took this news with a grain of salt, rolled over and tried to sleep while the woman next to me made a dozen phone calls worried she would have to cancel her meeting.  In hindsight, I suppose a train stopped on tracks with no breaks could have turned into a serious situation fast, but in my mind I would have just walked to another accessible means transportation to get to my destination. 
 
8:00 Two conductors walked by with a sledge hammer.
 
8:15 The train continued on its way.  People shuffled off and on at the next stop.  There were only four of us left in the car when we continued on our way to Harrisburg.  
 
9:27 The conductor vividly re-told the story in his theatrical voice to two men sitting behind me.  He told them the breakline was repaired by his co-workers sock and a few twigs.
 
9:42 I arrived in Harriburg a-half hour behind schedule.

February 2, 2009

in the valley

Posted in Uncategorized at 2:37 pm by shantiyatra

Hesitant to divulge too much or nothing interesting, I rarely post an entry.  I recently came to learn that lots of people I know have blogs and lots of people never read them.  My perception may be off, but writing in this blog now feels less like a stage a more like I’m leaving my journal open on the dining room table. 
 
I’m at work passing the time until 6:00 p.m.  My habits of procrastination have not left me.  I need to copy about 100 pages and design a new test to measure kids anger within the next four hours, but all of that should only take an hour, so why not wait?  I just listened to a you-tube video of Josh Ritter (the temptation of adam) for the fifth time.  I must confess adjusting to the "real world" is not what I thought I could make it.  I am miles from dear friends, losing sight of dreams, and anxious to take a next step.  Do I resign to a life vacant of the community I desire?  Were the social ideals I held just six months ago ever a possibility or have they always been a mirage?  I tell myself these are just growing pains.  It too shall pass. 

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