Walking with a couple of teen girls the other day, they started making fun of some guy’s running form who zipped past us. Being the adult, I immediately tried to explain why they shouldn’t make fun of how people run. I told them how I went running earlier that day and people were laughing at me.

After much probing, they found out why. “Um…I don’t know how to tell you this. But maybe they weren’t laughing at the way you were running but about what you were wearing.”

I don’t know. I think I looked pretty hot running in Central Park the other day…

After living in SoCal for four years, I thought I’d let my love of mild weather make the last of my living decisions.

And although I was preparing myself for a NY winter, I wasn’t expecting THIS. Seriously. Sept. 21 came around, and every New Yorker suddenly had put their flip-flops and shorts in storage and had pulled out their scarves and pea coats.

With all my fall/winter gear at my sister’s place in Georgia, I had decided to tough it out until my trip down there at the end of October. Although I knew that decision was slightly influenced by my stubbornness and belief that I could tough it out, I didn’t realize how freaky I’d be (seriously, this is New York). Yeah, I’ve become kind of that girl. The one that everyone asks, “so why don’t you have a coat?” EVERY SINGLE DAY.

Yes, while everyone is bundled up in their woolen outerwear and knit scarves and caps, I’m traipsing around the city in a 3/4-length shirt and my red Asian-inspired blazer. And while all the other runners in Central Park run on the bridle path wearing tights and hoodies, I’ve stuck to my shorts and a t-shirt (which I just moved up to two weeks ago from tank tops). The worst part about the running stuff is that I recently purchased winter running gear. I’m just afraid to start wearing it now…because how the heck will this girl stand running come January if I start wearing my warmest stuff now???

Holy cow…I never realized just how stubborn I can be. Nor how much I could handle the cold. Seriously, though…six days until I have a coat in my possession. Woohoo!

Right before I left on my trip I got a fabulous package from the ol’ LA roommates. Inside was a book that is nearly impossible to find abroad (and was supposed to meet me in India) and a surprise t-shirt. Of course the book was great to get…but the t-shirt was a major pick-me-up before the tour.

I’m sure with my absence of posts/pics you were thinking Please Don’t Go Girl…but I have a feeling that y’all were Hangin’ Tough. Come on. You had to know that I’ll Be Loving You Forever.

Yeah…I’ve worn the shirt like five times already.

When I see others’ souvenirs, I’m always a bit amused as to what people buy or where they’ve been.

At the hostel I was staying at here in Cape Town, there was a Japanese guy who had these Chicago Bulls and New York Yankees stickers on his suitcase. Being a hippie-kind of guy, he made it hard for me to imagine him at a Bulls’ game. Another Japanese guy who spoke VERY little English had on a Brooks & Dunn shirt from Madison, Wisconsin. Try as I did, I could not imagine this guy with his rather tight and high-waisted pants at a Brooks & Dunn concert in Wisconsin.

But you know, I don’t actually know these people. Maybe old boy is a really big sports fan. And other old boy could really put me to shame with his Boot Scootin’ (Boogie).

I mean, I always find it quite funny when new friends are surprised by seemingly normal things to me…like that I drove a truck, that my parents are white, or that I was born with 12 toes. (OK, kidding about the last one)

Now that I do have a bit of time, I can tell you I was mostly documenting the organization’s history for its 15th year anniversary book, compiling information for the now-released (but still under construction) website, and meeting with trafficked survivors to document their current life. Smaller tasks included editing reports for UN funding agencies, assisting in workshops, documenting workshops, and writing the monthly newsletter.

In my few days of away-from-office-freedom, I’ve really realized how much my three months there made me grow. Somehow in the last week I’ve kind of come away with an idea of what I want to do with my life, and what I learned from the people at Impulse has made me think of the ways I can actually do it. (What the plan is…well, that’s for another time).

But in the meantime, here are a few pics of me at work. (Click on the thumbnail to view it full size)

at a workshop on trafficking for the Border Security Force

making a poster at another workshop

modeling a Western-style salwar suit I’d just had tailored

discussing the book at its early release

in traditional Khasi dress at the wedding of the son of one of the doctors that works with Impulse

So the replacement of the hole-y shoes didn’t go over so well. And when I went to the bank earlier, I guess the money I took out must have been burning a hole in my bag. I didn’t even make it down a whole flight of stairs before I saw that Adidas had opened a store and was having a sale. Walked right in and bought these non-knock-off babies. So fab as I don’t think these hiking-soled puppies will be getting a hole in them anytime soon.

After a long-ish hike (I know…who knew I’d do so many hikes on this trip?), we were walking back through a little village, and I spotted another random bit of Americana. What was it?

No…that’s just a local dustbin/trashcan

No, silly…that’s just plain clothes

Nope…just an empty paint can

Ah, yes…fake Crocs

(and yes, I walked into their yard and onto the steps to take this picture)

I just bought new shoes. My colleagues have been laughing at me since I discovered a month ago there were holes in the bottom of these. But it was just the yellow rubber layer, and the hole didn’t cause a problem unless it rained…then water soaked through. (Yes, I know I’m cheap)

But after last Sunday’s day of mucho walking, one more layer came through on the right shoe.

I’d bought these crazy beasts in Vietnam when I had to have close-toed shoes for a tour we were taking. I just wanted some cheapo $3 canvas shoes. Being Vietnam, though, all they had were knock-offs of an American brand (which I actually hadn’t realized it was an American brand until I got to Australia and everyone there was wearing it and thinking it was tres American). And so I ended up paying a lot more than $3.

I had put off buying new shoes because I figured they’d get as nasty and dirty as the ol’ yeller ones. But considering my socks and feet got dirty from wearing these, today I broke down and bought their Indian counterpart.

Yeah.

Getting from Shillong to Agartala last week was quite an adventure, to say the least. Instead of giving you a full-on narrative, I thought I’d just compare my trip there to what a typical journey of equivalent distance would be in the U.S. for me…

India vs. USA

Approximate Distance:
500 kilometres vs. 310 miles

Mode of Transportation:
bus vs. plane or car/truck

Estimated Travel Time:
20-24 hours vs. 5 hours 10 minutes

Actual Travel Time:
43 hours vs. 5 hours

Escorts:
have to travel in a convoy through a high-insurgency area vs. only following the men with guns if you’ve been speeding

Finding a Place to Stay:
kicked out of first guesthouse because the state minister is coming and needs to sleep there vs. checking into a Marriott, Hilton, or Best Western

Finding a Place to Stay, part II:
go to the “party” building to ask the Communist Party of India (Marxist) — the ruling party of the state — if we can still sleep at the guesthouse…told “no” but they help find another room vs. um, communists in the US?

Road Food:
rice and vegetables eaten with the hands vs. drive-through food from Taco Bell (eaten with the hands, too)

Bathroom Break:
bamboo outhouse with a dirt-floor squat toilet vs. not needed for a 310-mile journey (but always have McDonald’s in an emergency)

Roadside Souvenirs:
USA handkerchiefs vs. “Someone Who Loves Me Went to X, and All I Got Was This Stupid T-Shirt” shirts

Growing up in the US, we kids always knew when a random holiday or declared observation day was: Grandparents’ Day meant a one-day project in art class, Earth Day meant a tree wrapped in paper towels to plant back home, and World AIDS Day meant a red ribbon given in home room.

But as an adult, we really know nothing (or is it just me?). However, now in India and volunteering with an NGO and now with a weekly article on development in the state newspaper, I’m knowing lots more of those days.

Saturday was World AIDS Day. The NGOs (Impulse included) organized a bike rally to raise awareness. Because, you know, nothing says learn about AIDS like a bunch of dudes riding their motorcycles. But sarcasm aside, it seemed to bring quite a few people out to the streets to see what all the ruckus was. And lots of people got information on HIV/AIDS.

Watching the bikers, though, I felt a bit like I was in America…except for the fact there were no Harleys. Lots of American brand clothing and helmets (that I’m pretty sure were “purchased” through a point program of Marlboro cigarettes).

Thought you might enjoy the pics, though…

I don’t know if you can see the Nike logo on the gold hoodie or the Marlboro logo on the helmet…but they’re there!
Oh, and random note, you wouldn’t see this in the nearby state…two men riding on a bike together is illegal…can you guess why?