Guest Author: Siobhan Powers

I’ve been staying in the beautiful backwaters of Kerala for the past few days, which has put me at ease as I always feel more comfortable by the water.  Jonathon and I took some time out of our workday to take a walk and get a feel of the area, including all it has to offer, both culturally and agriculturally. We interrupted the construction of a stone wall surrounding a rice paddy field and watched a young boy catch fish in a stream at the side of the narrow road. In the heat of the Indian sun’s rays, we contemplated buying ice cream, but, on our return, settled on the universal refreshing thirst-quencher that is an ice-cold cola.

We chose a small restaurant that we thought might have a refrigerator, but the woman inside directed us across the street to a closed store. After being invited behind the store into a very small, simple café (for lack of a more appropriate word), we made due with a couple Sprites and sat with a mother and her two grown children so that we might return the glass bottles. While the fresh liquid made the welcome journey down my throat, I thought of the inane questions you ask someone you first meet. I asked their names, which were beautiful, but, as someone who hates having my name butchered, I will do them the kindness of not attempting to spell them. They asked about us and we gave them our usual answers (American, New York, university students, etc.).  Then, there was that usual moment of awkward silence where we stare at each other and think about what else there is to talk about. I sipped my soda and then looked up at the ceiling fan they turned on upon our arrival, and then…

“You watch Olympics?” the son asked.

Insert fervent nod.

Jonathon may have rolled his eyes. Don’t even get me started about the Olympics. Right now, I’m staying somewhere without a television (which would usually not be an issue) and checking the results every hour (when possible). I am a huge sports fan, but my love of the Yankees does not necessarily cross cultural boundaries while the Olympics are the quintessential blend of sportsmanship, culture, and nationalism. Indian television station editing is not ideal for my preferences (re less archery and shooting, more swimming and gymnastics), but this is due to my familiarity with American editing where Michael Phelps seems to cross both the screen and the 50 m pool at least once every half hour. The man’s mention of whom he called “Phillips” and “Locky” only spurred me. I finished my beverage at that tiny kitchen table regaling him with my extreme adoration for the American men’s swimming team (U.S.A!!!), while he nodded at the names he recognized and laughed at my enthusiasm.

In this small village in India, this exchange had nothing to do with work, like my last post, but everything to do with the universality of both competition and human connection. When all else fails, mention Michael Phelps…at least from July 27-August 12.

About the author: I am from a small island in southern New Jersey but have spent the past four years in Ithaca, NY attending Cornell University. I have a Bachelors of Science in Environmental Engineering and will be going back to Cornell in the fall to get my Master’s in Engineering in the same subject with a particular focus on water processes. I like hiking and going to the beach. Indoors, I enjoy reading books and watching movies and baseball ( go Yankees!).