Indian Head Bobble

Let me begin this post by stating...that the Indian head bobble is real.

This will be explained in more detail later, but I'm going to first attempt to get out all that has happened today so I don't forget. I've been utterly overwhelmed with culture.

The day began with everyone drinking coffee, having a breakfast of omelletes, dosas (bread), vegetable curries and mango juice boxes.

Being a foodie, this was quite possibly the best thing for me to wake up to, so my spirits were already high (even though it was the ungodly hour of 7:45). Unfortunately, so was the temperature. The weather was already at a hot and humid 85 degrees and would most surely reach around 95 by the middle of the day. It was so hot, in fact, that I washed my one pair of clothes in the sink and found them dry within about 15 minutes hanging from a clothesline on the roof.

I haven't yet come to grips with the fact that I will be perpetually sweaty whenever I am outside for 6 weeks. I get a false sense of confidence when sitting inside our nice, air conditioned rooms. "It's cool, I can totally hang outside for 2 hours. I could even go for a run."

Not.

Whoever invented air conditioning deserves the Nobel Prize. Within about 5 minutes outside you're craving icecream, Slurpees, Popsicles...for your body to be encased in an iceberg... it's just too damn hot (milk was a bad choice).

Anyway. After breakfast, Dr. Mohankumar took us on a tour of the Madras Veterinary Hospital, which was only a short (yet perilous) walk from the hostel. Crossing the street can literally seem like taking your life in your hands, since the aforementioned traffic never slows and pedestrians are never yielded to. In fact, we would later be told that many drivers even speed up or play chicken when they see women or white people. When I asked if it was because they didn't like us, I was met with quite an opposite response; "no...they like you too much."

Never knew that almost flattening someone was flirting, but hey.

The hospital was a lot like what I expected, but still took me by surprise. In a country where many people barely have the money to buy furniture, there are still a huge number of individuals who own all variety of animals; cats, dogs, buffaloes, chickens, lizards, goats, horses and of course, cows.

As you probably know, the cow is a sacred animal in India which cannot be killed for meat. They are strictly used for dairy. Cows must die of natural causes, even if they are deteriorating rapidly or could really benefit from euthanasia. This includes male dairy cows, which in the US are slaughtered as veal. Our group began a "cow count" to keep track of how many cows we meet on the street or at the hospital. We expect it will be up to 1,000 before we leave. In some cities, farmers have even been banned from letting their cows roam, as they often cause traffic jams. Still, we saw plenty on our first day in the busy Chennai.

The strings through the nose are like bull rings and are used to restrain the cows and lead them around.

The hospital was complete with everything that American veterinary hospitals have, besides CT and MRI. There were X-ray, ultrasound and ECG machines, arthroscopy, surgery suites and even a grooming salon. The waiting room was filled with people holding their pets and milling about. Many of the animals were thin or had sores or skin lesions but seemed to be cared for. It's understandable that in a land where many people don't have food, the animals will be a bit thinner. At first I felt awkward walking into exam rooms and taking pictures, but the people just didn't seem to mind. Another major difference between the US and India...India isn't trying nearly as hard to keep up appearances. Everything is what it is.

Examination room

We visited all of the wards, including but not limited to large animal, theriogenology, gynecology and obstetrics, fluid therapy, orthopedics (most animals come in from fractures from guess what?? crossing the roads), parasitology and cardiology, where a Doberman was being walked down the hall. Diagnosis: Dilated cardiomyopathy??? I'll never see a Doberman again without thinking that since finishing 2nd year.

An anemic dog being rechecked after receiving a blood transfusion

Many of the rooms had pictures of common conditions seen for each species, including Rinderpest in cattle (eradicated in the US), intussuception from parasite infestation, dystocia, mange, etc etc. Owners often restrained their own animals, and the vets and technicians circulated between them all. Many soldiers brought in their working dogs and stood with them while they were being examined. It was a lot more personal and hands on then American veterinary clinics. The large animal clinic was especially cool, and we were able to witness some doctors from Malaysia pulling a retained placenta on a cow and inspecting a buffalo.


There were so many things to see in the hospital that I'm sure I'm forgetting things, but that seems to be the trend on this trip so far. Just too much to see!! It's like walking into a Friday's or a Spencer's Gifts or Filene's Basement and trying to find just one piece of bare space. India is a huge moving billboard of colors, animals, people, noise, smells, EVERYTHING. There is no quiet to be found.

After the vet hospital, we made our way to the "games day" which is part of the vet school's celebration. Students and faculty competed in events such as the 100m race. Dr. Mohankumar decided to show us his stuff and ran barefoot to take 2nd place in the 40-50 year old man faculty race.

Dr. Mohankumar, in yellow, winning like Charlie Sheen

Lunch followed, which was again delicious. Lunch is often the biggest meal of the day in India, with breakfast and dinner being equally sized. The rest of the afternoon was spent lounging about and playing cards until another veterinarian and native, Gowri, came to take us shopping (woo hoo!). She was an amazing guide and gave us lots of fun facts about India on the way. Our one male group member got dragged along, but was quite a good sport about it. On Tuesday, there will be some sort of ceremony that requires more proper dress, so Dr. Mohankumar recommended that we get saris or some other formalwear. We went to exchange money first, and then headed over to the shopping mall.

I'm rich...in India

Let me just say, I never expected to see so many patterns and color choices in my LIFE.

The store was chock full of all sorts of fabrics which could be tailor made to fit you. The sarees and chudidars ran anywhere from about 100 to well over 1,000 rupees. 43 rupees equals about 1 American dollar, so...you can do the math (my brain is off, it's summer). Our experience was even completed by the power going out twice while we were shopping, which is apparently very common in the summer time since everyone and their mom is using the AC.

In the end, I was able to buy a beautiful brown and blue chudidar set, three pairs of earrings, 3 scarves and some underwear (necessary....still no luggage) for $30 American. Totally makes up for the fortune I spent in the UK on candy. There will eventually be a picture of me in formal wear...but for now I'm keeping you all in suspense. I've eaten too much Indian food and I probably wouldn't fit.

Anywho. After shopping, we returned to the hostel for dinner at 8pm, proceeded to play another game of Egyptian rat slap, and then started our "antisocial" period for the night where everyone begins blogging. And that takes me to where we are now.

Back to the head bobble.

In India, when people are talking to each other, you will occasionally see them doing the motion displayed by the clip from Outsourced (above). They just throw it into conversation, and I doubt even they know they're doing it. It's somewhere between a "yes" and a "no," but they never quite make a decisive enough motion to tell. So you just sort of wonder, "what does this mean?" "Are they annoyed at me?" "Do they not understand me?" We asked Gowri about it, to which she laughed and looked perplexed for a second before smiling. As if she realized she did it, but didn't realize that it was strange to anyone else. Like when I say "rotary" or "carriage" (rather than roundabout or shopping cart) and people pause and look confused for a second trying to decipher it. I wonder if when Americans fist pound it's equally as strange.

Turns out, the literal meaning of the head bobble is "okay." It's the Indian lovechild of yes and no. The head bobble is my favorite thing about India so far...I was even treated to a private bobble when I asked our server if I could have black rather than sweetened coffee in the morning. I had to restrain myself from asking him to do it again.

So to conclude this post, I also wanted to give you a list of fun facts that I learned about India today.

In the wise words of Gowri, women are both respected and not respected in India; they can be looked up to and treated like a goddess, but also ignored and walked on. Most marriages in this area are arranged, unlike in Northern India. If Indians date, they often hide it from their families so that they do not disgrace them if they are destined to be wed to someone. There are MANY babies, and the population is booming.

In the North, every bride wears red when they marry. In other regions, including Chennai, the bride can pick whatever color she wants. I can't even imagine not only picking the fit and style of the dress, but the color too. Being as indecisive as I am, I'd be dead before I completed the mission.

The caste system still exists in many areas, and the status of a person is often determined by their names. Doctors will sometimes change their names to one of a higher class so that more patients will come to them.

Some Indian breeds of horses have ears that tilt in odd directions, and make them look quite distinguished.

Alright, well that's all I can think of for the moment. I think my brain needs some sleep to recharge, and it's currently 12am in India. Time to dream of curry and dosas. My malaria meds haven't yet kicked in to give me any good lucid dreams, but maybe I'll be lucky tonight and I'll really taste them. Goodnight.