Moustache Nation?

We savored this homecoming. For 2 months we ticked off the days on the the calendar, made lists of what food we would eat and movies we would see. Were we really going home?

Yes. We were reunited with our friends, families, and pasteurized milk. Our curry consumption plummeted, and we redirected our palates to sushi, lettuce, and fresh breads. I was so overcome by the cleanliness of the bathroom floor at the local library that I almost kissed the ground. Were we just living obliviously in a U.S.A. paradise? As I was to find out, not exactly.

Even with a Texan president, pick-up trucks, and a rich hairy history in the wild west, the U.S.A. has gone anti-moustache. Yes, even Tom Selleck denuded his upper lip. For 2 arduous months I labored to show over 1 billion Indian people that I could feel their vibe. In turn, the natives welcomed me into their huts, petted my stache, and offered me generous helpings of sambar. It was like the cool kids were inviting me to the back of the bus.

But back home, I felt in the minority- cast aside, misunderstood. The melting pot went cold for me. Unemployed and in search of my identity, I needed to understand where the moustache fits in here.

In my classroom. The girls hated the moustache, but the boys loved it.

Some pre-India shenanigans exploring the virtues of mono-brow and moustache.

Classic South Indian moustache. It turns the corner and heads south.

Moustache et mullet. Classique.

The no-frills, hard-core, stomp on your
little neck with my big black boot moustache.

HOME!! Celebrating our first trip to the store. Things started
going downhill from here.

Was this a tough-guy moustache?

A smooth guy moustache?

Or a hobo moustache? I wore this to the local library. I was
wearing a shirt and shoes. But with a moustache? No service!
Unemployed and aimless, I attempted to get a job at TGIF.
They turned me away claiming that they only handed out applications
on Mondays. Angered by moustache discrimination, I snatched one of the
manager's flare buttons and stormed out. Moments later I found myself
in the New Haven Police Department answering
questions about my criminal background.
Fortunately, computers have no moustache bias,
and my clean record enabled me to get off with a misdimeanor.

Invigorated by my release. I promptly shaved my stache and
headed to the local D+D where they served me with a smile!



We would like to thank you all for your support and enthusiasm during our
adventures in India. Despite and perhaps because of the difficulties, we have come to understand this as one of the best years of our lives.
Thanks for sharing it with us as you've followed the Moustache Chronicles.

For a quick impression of our year, click on the following link:

Alex and Jeeyung's India Video

This was Jeeyung's Christmas gift to me.

Farewell Tour

Post-Italy, we were a little down. After having consumed the smuggled cheeses and ravioli, we could no longer revel in Roma but had to get cracking on our research. Jeeyung weighed those dirty diapers and wrote up her report while I persevered through editing process on my short film documentary of a nearby village. For everyone's pleasure, I grew a moustache.

Maybe in that time we were getting provincial -- insular workaholics lamenting the heat and only appreciating one style of moustache. Not to be discouraged we did what we always did in times of need, plan a vacation! Sadly this was to be the last journey in India as our departure was just weeks later. This time we lured our friend Paige into our spicy korma of north Indian delights in Gujarat, Rajasthan, and Agra. Enjoy.

Our fearless travelers at the Adalaj Step Well,
an ornate and cavernous structure stepping deep into the earth.

"Jackie, is that really the only way out?"
That's looking a little iffy!"

Too bad Paige is engaged. He was so dreamy.

Carved marble latis at Sarkhej Roza outside Ahmedabad.

A view of the Lake Palace and the City Palace in Udaipur.

Le Roi de la Moustache.

Carved marble columns at Jain Temple Ranakpur.

Jain Temple Jaiselmer.

Horizontal in Jaiselmer. By the time we made it here I was stricken
twice with G.I. illness. Paige succumbed to the fried rice;
and when Jeeyung was asked how she felt during
her digestive bout post-butter cake, she muttered, "I feel creamy."

Piling into the jeep for the camel safari.



Bump.

Grind.
Pinch. Simulated mortar and pestle on camel.

Father and son team who owned and guided our camels.
We camped on the dunes and slept out under the stars.

Wearing their Sunday Best at the Rat Temple.

Elephants at Amber Fort, Jaipur.

Monks hamming it up at the Taj Mahal.

The pinnacle of fuel efficiency and comfort.
A modified rickshaw with a tractor engine.

If anybody's interested in a fluorescent duster, don't worry, he delivers.

A tender moment with some friends.



Please stay tuned for our final entry...

Wanted: English Teachers

5 months ago, we finally fired our Tamil teacher and gave up on our dreams to become bilingual. Don’t feel too bad for her. Often, we had to devise the lesson plans, and it turned she was learning more English than we were learning Tamil. Plus, at the end of every class she wanted to renegotiate her fee. Ugghh. Arrivederci senora Balouze!

Now relegated to the world of indo-english creole for the remainder of our stay, we weren’t sure how to smartly navigate the communication gauntlet. Jeeyung had a knack for the creole and could both comprehend and speak it proficiently. From months of experience with her study nurses, she became a master. For example:

You have doubt = Do you have any questions?
Next time = afterwards or subsequently
Place diaper on scale and next time take weight = After you place it on the scale take the weight.
Finish = Ok. We are done for now.
Please wait here only = Please wait right here.

Unfortunately, I remained remedial. My penchant for romance languages was of nil (another example) use , and as I was spending most of my time doing research in the villages communicating cum hand signals, I had no outlet to learn the creole. Aimless, I searched for answer, and then it came.
One June day after filming our milkman on his rounds, I came back home via the local Tamil Middle School. Everyday we passed by the school on our way to the pool, the children running alongside our bike screaming, “How are you? What is your native country?” So, one day I entered the school and asked if I could sit and watch a class (all in Tamil, but I thought it would be some interesting video footage). The teacher smiled and asked, “Your teaching? English, this class today only?” I was reluctant but agreed. The teacher handed me a book and pointed towards a story called, “The Cherry Tree”. It seemed appropriately simple and on point because of George Washington. As we read together it became clear that only half the class could actually read and the other half was just lip-syncing. For those who could read, the words were meaningless. I looked over to the teacher. She smiled back without hesitation – all is well. The kids were all smiling, but I had a doubt. I closed the book and thought to myself, “we need to start from scratch.” So we did by reviewing the a, b, c’s and then on to numbers. 40 minutes later, finish!
Sweating and disoriented, I began walking out and waved goodbye to the children and the teacher. The teacher followed me outside and asked, “English, you, coming tomorrow only?” So I did, and the day after, and the day after….. That was over 4 months ago.

I teach eighth grade once a day Monday through Friday. The problems with literacy remain. But for those motivated students, they have made great strides with English grammar, and most importantly, they enjoy the language. I have no use for Tamil in the classroom. It is like a compulsory ‘Capretz Method’.

For months, we lacked reading texts at their proper level. After complaining enough to my mom, she made some calls and said that she found some resources for book donation. She wasn’t kidding.

Lugging over 40 kilos of children's books to the school.
These books traveled 8000 miles and came via Roma thanks to Mom and Ron.
We should all get extra frequent flier miles for this!

Ok. How are we going to distribute these books so this doesn't turn

into a feeding frenzy?

Calm before the storm.

Like a swarm of bees rustled from their slumber, they dive in
to get their copies of Bumps in the Night and The Hoboken
Chicken Emergency.

Wooo!!!! Got the booty!!!!

Organizing the books with my helpers.

Reading Bumps in the Night. Notice how girls and boys
sit on their respective sides of the classroom.

Lunch with Vijayalakshmi, my co-teacher. and her son. Check
out the lavish spread with my Special Meal.

Getting dropped off stylishly in an Ambassador. Before getting
out you have to pet the furry dash for good luck (and then wash your hands).

Why we so badly need English teachers here.