"Home" again.

Our trip to the Andamans has expired and tired and longing for solitude I returned to FERAL this week. The students who were staying at a separate campus have moved in here with us. This was a very good pragmatic decision, but unfortunately not all was so rosy. Upon return to what had been my home for a week already I discovered I had been exiled. One of the new additions had acquired my chambers by means of early slumber, and on the understanding that arrangements were not final I squeezed reluctantly into a tiny shared room. Now if you'll recall the size of what was formerly my room from the first post's photograph, and consider that I had already moved into it completely and made it my own space, and also consider that this was a newcomer to FERAL of a group who had bemoaned their circumstances until pacified. I make my point: why was I displaced with seniority on my side? In retrospect it could be cause I am not narcoleptic enough to go to bed at eight o'clock, but also because I don't feel I know this person enough to confront them about it. So the next morning I excused myself and removed all my possessions from my former home and felt just the slightest bit lost in this expedition.

I didn't come, obviously, to feel at home but abroad, but I think I have learned about my own need for a personal space through the loss of it. This loss has been temporary as I have dealt with it by getting extremely compulsive with my suitcases and organizing them. You might laugh but it worked surprisingly well. As well I have about three square meters of space in my shared room which is distinctly mine. This week has been otherwise uneventful. We have lectures in between tea times which seem to be the linchpins of this entire society and about five hours of free time every night depending on how much of a night owl you are. I have spent most of my free time studying entomolgy for my research project, which for those who don't know, is an enormous subject due to the diversity of insects and a bit daunting.

On my project, I think I have finally settled. For background there is a family of flies called Agromyzidae that make what are called leaf mines. In other words their larvae live inside a host leaf under the cuticle and eat their way through it until they have acquired enough energy to metamorphose into a full grown fly. These tunnels or mines usually widen as the larvae grow and undergo ecdysis (the process of shedding the outer layer to allow growth). The ones I am concerning myself with are those, probably few, genera which predate on mangroves. I will be collecting these parasitized leaves and identifying them to the most specific phylogenetic level, then measuring the length versus width throughout the leaves to find a rate of growth, then estimate leaf area needed to metamorphose The end game is to answer questions such as: Are certain species of fly showing host preference? Does the substrate affect the growth rate or amount of leaf needed to metamorphose? Plus it just sounded interesting to me. It's a new subject, I get the chance to test a hypothesis, I get to use a little statistics and maybe a little calculus. And I'm really impatient to get started.

Some More Hard Times

Waking up in a sweat is not a good start to a day, and usually unmistakable; however when it's 90 degrees and 100% relative humidity, you might pause for a second. This time I didn't pause long, and in fact, sprang with surprising swiftness to the toilet where the taste of liquid, masticated, par-digested olive pizza filled the back of my throat. The inside of my mouth sweated its own salty sweat, and my throat relaxed like one lies down to sleep. Unbeknownst to it, something fowl was already brewing. In a blur I ejected the pieces of my dinner that had not escaped to my small intestine, and I continued until my depths were sufficiently bailed, and the normal gastric processes quit. I learned after this bout that an even more unspeakable evil had awaited the food which had passed on into my intestines. They were alchemized into something, well, unspeakable... which also passed with surprising swiftness. I then went back to my bed to lay in a daze of David Bazan infused delirium and think about what mistake I had made in this heavenly place to heap on myself such wrath, and realized two possibilities.
The shrimp I had as an appetizer the night before, it tasted a bit like low-tide... perhaps it's strange taste wasn't the only payload it was carrying. Second, I have been on an antibiotic for 5 days for giardia of which I took the final one the morning before at six o'clock sharp. Bradley, my roomie, is on the same antibiotic. Now to the point: it is contraindicated with alcohol. But I wanted a beer with my dinner. The medicine causes projectile vomiting in 50% of cases and death in <1% of those cases. So being me, I quickly did the math. I couldn't have had more than half of the medication still in my system, so the equation would be (.5)*(.5V + .01D) where V stands for vomiting and D stands for death) leaving a 25% chance of projectile vomiting and <.25% chance of death. Now liking those odds I ordered one 10oz beer with my pizza, again staying well on the safe side. So taking my life and my beer in my hands I decided to celebrate not having giardia. And while statistically unlikely, my hubris could have lead me to a disgusting after party, one that my roommate was lucky enough to miss. But that being said, I woke up with a fever,which makes me think neither of those theories are true, as in science a theory must explain all phenomena. So I reject them like the young earth theory and take action like washing my hands more often.
Another incident transpired the last day of our stay on Havelock island. I'll take my time to tell about it. We decided to adventure out to Ingles Island. It's very remote, about an hour and forty five on the tiny boats. We snorkeled over a pretty awesome reef. I got the oppurtunity to see several banded reef kraits foraging for little fish in the corals as well as huge humphead parrot fish which I'm sure are the most unfortunate looking creatures god has decided to create upon the earth. I suggest you look them up. Then we took a mile hike through the jungle to arrive at an even more exclusive beach. One without a single footprint in the sand until we arrived. I spotted a rock outcrop just to the west with lots of amazing tide-pools under it. I investigated and noticed a little hole in the rock about ten feet up that looked like the perfect seat. So I climbed. And took a few pictures therefrom. Eleanor yelled out jokingly, “I'm done over here, I'm leaving you for dead!” and as I started to climb down I exclaimed “Don't leave me for [rock breaking] 'OH SHIT!!!” and proceeded to fall about six feet smashing my left ankle, right knee, and the left side of my rib cage on a piece of somewhat jagged rock. “OH GOD, GRANT!” I heard as I continued to do a barrel roll off another rock and finally land at the base of the outcrop. The hike back through the forest was long scenic and painful. My ankle is still visibly swollen and there are still other vestiges of my little tumble but after two days at least I don't walk so gimp-like anymore.
Havelock was getting a little suffocating anyway, but where we were staying on Havelock had a water heater. We just moved to a place outside of Port Blair called the Andaman and Nicobar Environmental Team and all we have to shower with is buckets of 70 degree filtered pond water. Gecko's have become a welcome visitor. Which is good because they would visit whether welcomed or not – there must be thousands in ANET alone, I don't mind them sneaking a peak in the shower as long as they keep eating mosquito's. That's a species which isn't going extinct anytime soon.
Apart from this incident my stay in the Andamans has been pretty good. I've got some really nice people surrounding me. Eleanor was bringing me The Life Aquatic to watch between bouts of expulsion, and all the "Peace Kids," a second group from Juniata that left the day of my plague, all dropped in to say goodbye. As well this is by far the most scenic place I have found myself so far. The sun sets over crystal waters every night at 4:30 and rises every morning around 5. They apparently don't correct for time differences, but my circadian rhythm beats on unaffected. Most mornings we rise at six to be served nutella and banana stuffed crepes by the waiters in the dining hall. They don't speak much English, so it's always fun to try and mix up some order and see what comes out. At least they got the fish sandwich right. Usually after breakfast we have a little tea. Then we kit up, donning wet suits and boots to ride a boat to some unbelievably even more scenic beach and dive into an alien world. It's not so bad a life really, puking aside. We alternate dive days with lecture days where we discuss the effects of coral on carbon production and sea grasses on species diversity etc. etc.
All this mayhem aside. I really miss a lot of you and really-really miss a couple of you...don't be jealous. It sounds a little un-bro to say the first two but when I'm sick I want my mom to go get me some lemon gatorade. I don't think there's gatorade in this whole country, just electral, an electrolite solution that tastes like salty sugar for 3 seconds and cheese for 4 hours. It's aftertaste is nigh immortal. Secondly when I’m in a place that's so different i wish that my girlfriend didn't cost so much to call. Miss you babe. (P.S. the hand soap here smells like you, hope that's not creepy.) Secondly I'm rooming with a really nice gay guy, a somewhat geeky fishing freak, and a quiet Pennsylvanian TSAS kid. The point is that those guys aren't Tyler and Seth... you complete me.

p.s. pictures later. Internet cafe connection is pretty slow.

Rice Fish and Humidity.

When leaving the states my mother exclaimed "I think you'll have better care than you do here!" Referring to the fact that here I don't wash my own clothes, I get three meals a day cooked for me, a doctor visits once a week, and my sheets get changed. Well while this is true, there are a few more problems too. Your clothes are soggy with sweat after 8 hours of wearing them, and while in Oklahoma these clothes dry in a few minutes, here there is not much hope. There is always more sun to make you sweat, more rain to drench you, and the combination there of, leaves a humidity that must be well over 100%. While I understand that it is a logistical impossibility, the water in the air sticks to you like a car windshield, so thick you can write messages in it for everyone to see.

Now the food is phenominal let's not get me wrong, usually starting with an orange or banana and some fruit juice for a snack before breakfast, dhosas and chapatthi with an arrange of chutneys and potato masala, then a vegetarian lunch that is mostly rice and curried red beans some bread (again chapatti) and mango juice, then a dinner. Now dinner is the time which is most likely for you to get some meat. I say it like this because it is not a certainty. Now Americans, I'm beginning to notice, eat a lot of meat comparitively. This meat laden diet keeps a certain flora of bacteria in your gut, which vegetables will not sustain. This means an upset in your little gastronomic ecosystem, meaning the bad bacteria that are there get to take up the slack caused by your new diet. The result is IBS, which I am becoming familiar with. I'm here waiting on the system to equilibriate. The waiting isn't really fun, so I take probiotics, but I still haven't noticed much of a difference. I have also recently developed some body aches. If it doesn't clear up, it may be caused by a little protist called Giardia lamblia. Some of you might know it. It's a fancy term for "I drank the water," or in my case I brushed my teeth with the water before I knew which water was ok. Another more interesting diagnosis I received for my body aches is called rice flu. It's when you have eaten so much rice that your pancreas is overworked from the sugar giving you aches and making you really tired. And on water: if you don't drink about 2 or more litres per day you will get a splitting, nauseating headache behind your eyeballs. So you see, that doctor that visits once a week? Dr. Pani is just sheer necessity until everybody settles.

Now on to a less uncomfortable note, on Tuesday we went to the largest fishing operation in Puducherry, it was 40 boats. About half fall more into the category of rafts being just large shaped logs lashed together. Other half are FRP's (fibre reinforced plastics) which are a larger composite that is more adept at clearing the breaking waves, but they are so expensive that usually 3 or more people invest in them together. That day the catches were small. The gill nets hung deep in the water but the water was rough and the fish must have been elsewhere. Each boat only yielded a small pile of assorted lizard fish, a parrot fish or two, some sardines, and a couple baskets of crab. These baskets get dragged up the beach about thirty yards or so and auctioned to women who tote them all the way to the fish market. The whole process is captivating considering I have no idea where the last piece of fish I ate in america came from.

Despite being sick, this trip has been very rewarding so far, and we haven't even left for the islands yet, where we will get to do an in depth study of trigger fish behavior. Everyone is great, me and Dale have been commiserating because we're both sick. Eleanor is great to bounce ideas off and have a reasonable and funny conversation with. Neil is one of the most knowledgable professors I have had, both about India and about his field. Tarra and Anu can get anything done that needs done, and Dipani is both a genius and a good friend to have. I just love it here!

Humble Home for a Weary Wanderer.

First off thank you so much for being a great girlfriend of one year Ashtin. I wish my flight did not have to depart on our anniversary, and thank you for being so understanding. Love you.

But now, after hours of flying and longer hours of waiting in Airport purgatory:

Day 1

Here i sit. Blowing smoke rings in the middle of the jungle listening to birds sing songs i've never heard from trees i've never seen. The word alien falls face down in attempting to describe it.

The smells change by the minute; from burning trash to spicy smells from out of nowhere to sweat to wild flowers and all of these are peculiar enough not to be off-putting. Everything is so pungeant and strange that my pipe tobacco seems bland for the first time ever.

My hut looks looks like this: Granite stilts hold up a canopy of woven monocot leaves shingled and lashed to long wooden supports about 6 centimeters in diameter. The whole chaotic mass constitutes an A frame that gives me doubts about it rain resistance. My pink mosquito net hovers like a pragmatic bed canopy over a twin sized mattress on a bamboo frame. A coarse red yellow and green rug covers the wooden slats of my 3 by 5 meter chamber. The only embellishments are a large steel box, a small flourescent lantern and an electric fan from the 80's or earlier, i can't tell but they seem more than enough, maybe because of the limited space.

the terms meagre and humble come to mind but in the most endearing sense. At this point it strikes a chord with the adventurous and childlike side of me. I love it. Its the tree house i never had as a kid. All mine complete with a trap door and a window operated by a pulley. My room mate is a virginian and his accent is subtle and warm. He's a fish enthusiast who thought ahead enough to pack a fly-rod and close to a hundred flies. Bradley is his name. And he looks like one, with broad shoulders and a very strong looking chin and brow. He could have played football, i don't know, but i suspect he wouldn't want to subject his mind to such a battery. He and I spent the morning exploring some of the campus and photographing interesting flora and fauna.

We made our way to Anupama's house where her adorable daughter showed us around. She showed us the well where fire ants patrolled, the garden where the chickens were not allowed, the pots in which guppies were abiding, and the highlight: a baby pineapple. All the while we were being followed by the resident dogs. Then Anu's husband came out, offered us coffee and casual conversation. I accepted both. I lit my pipe and enjoyed the simple day layed out before me... excluding the immigration papers.

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