Vacation
I'd forgotten how beautiful the small town of Tura is, especially in comparison the dusty grid of Bhubaneshwar. Nestled in the Garo Hills, the town is full of houses terraced up the steep hills, hairpin turns on every road, and intense greenery. Apparently this week is time for firecrackers, so I've been hearing a ton of explosions echoing through the valley at all times of day. It's rural enough that I can also hear the sounds of farm animals everywhere.
It's still quite a small place (they may only have one hotel), but I'm very comfortable at Alva's family's house. They are relatively well off for the area, and Alva is involved in a number of entrepreneurial enterprises, including being the editor of a local Garo language paper, running an IT training school, and being in charge of one of the local broadband franchises. Apparently she also has a petrol station in the villages somewhere, which took quite a bit of effort to get permitted. Last week she went on a solo mission to negotiate with local militants to release a government official they had kidnapped, and got him back, so she's kind of a badass as well. She picked me up from the night bus from Guwahati at 4am in her leather-interiored sedan. Her entire family has been forcing tons of delicious food on me, at least three times per day. The local cuisine features a lot of pork cooked with chilis, garlic, and ginger. We had both pork and packets of rice in banana leaf slow cooked inside huge bamboo segments over charcoal.
The family threw a prayer meeting at the house yesterday, so various people cooked ten or so different dishes, and we transformed their open air garage into a party space and catering area. It was quite impressive. I almost fell asleep during the prayers, which were all in Garo, but fortunately they didn't last too long. After most of the guests left, Alva, her friend Monica, and a young couple who lives in France went to the annual rock concert. Alva got us in without tickets, and we sat near the front. Some of the covers played were pretty good, and I even approved of some of the bluesy music choices, though classic rock isn't really my thing anymore. Maybe if they had played more Pink Floyd, I would have been into it. They did play Dont Stop Believing, which apparently no one here knows!
Today we're relaxing at the house, prepping for new years. Alva straightened my hair, which was totally frizzy after mistreating it all month. She's also loaning me a dress to wear, with a couple of layers underneath. She was signed up to usher at the 10pm church service, and then we get to escape and party. Apparently Chandmari field right by her house is the local goa-style rave event of the evening. I told her I desperately wanted to dance something that was not Odissi. Driving fast through the streets of Tura last night listening to trancy music was the most I've been able to listen to non-Indian classical music since I've been here. So tonight should be strange and entertaining at minimum.
It's still quite a small place (they may only have one hotel), but I'm very comfortable at Alva's family's house. They are relatively well off for the area, and Alva is involved in a number of entrepreneurial enterprises, including being the editor of a local Garo language paper, running an IT training school, and being in charge of one of the local broadband franchises. Apparently she also has a petrol station in the villages somewhere, which took quite a bit of effort to get permitted. Last week she went on a solo mission to negotiate with local militants to release a government official they had kidnapped, and got him back, so she's kind of a badass as well. She picked me up from the night bus from Guwahati at 4am in her leather-interiored sedan. Her entire family has been forcing tons of delicious food on me, at least three times per day. The local cuisine features a lot of pork cooked with chilis, garlic, and ginger. We had both pork and packets of rice in banana leaf slow cooked inside huge bamboo segments over charcoal.
The family threw a prayer meeting at the house yesterday, so various people cooked ten or so different dishes, and we transformed their open air garage into a party space and catering area. It was quite impressive. I almost fell asleep during the prayers, which were all in Garo, but fortunately they didn't last too long. After most of the guests left, Alva, her friend Monica, and a young couple who lives in France went to the annual rock concert. Alva got us in without tickets, and we sat near the front. Some of the covers played were pretty good, and I even approved of some of the bluesy music choices, though classic rock isn't really my thing anymore. Maybe if they had played more Pink Floyd, I would have been into it. They did play Dont Stop Believing, which apparently no one here knows!
Today we're relaxing at the house, prepping for new years. Alva straightened my hair, which was totally frizzy after mistreating it all month. She's also loaning me a dress to wear, with a couple of layers underneath. She was signed up to usher at the 10pm church service, and then we get to escape and party. Apparently Chandmari field right by her house is the local goa-style rave event of the evening. I told her I desperately wanted to dance something that was not Odissi. Driving fast through the streets of Tura last night listening to trancy music was the most I've been able to listen to non-Indian classical music since I've been here. So tonight should be strange and entertaining at minimum.