I hate Hindi.

Well, that's not entirely true. A more apt title: I hate (how much I suck at) Hindi. The first day of classes was today, and it was a roller coaster. Luckily, there was an easy start: my section was scheduled to watch a Bollywood movie today. It was an old film from the early 1980s called Masoom (a really good movie for any of you who are interested) that focused on like... family dynamics and honesty in relationships. What made the movie challenging was the fact that we watched it without using any subtitles. What made it easier was the fact I had already seen it. So there were a lot of parts where I could understand bits and pieces that I could then put into context, knowing the storyline. But yeah, it was a pretty good way to ease into class. However, immediately afterwards I had my first "personal tutorial" session with Neelam-ji, the teacher who scares me the most. She's from Nepal and tends to be serious a lot of the time. She rarely smiles and speaks really quickly and I think she knows I shouldn't be in advanced (although I should be used to this - Rakesh-ji, the program leader, keeps asking me if I'm absolutely sure that I can handle the workload and assuring me that if I ever need it, he can arrange private tutoring for me. which is kind of demeaning, but accurate. I probably will take him up on that).
So anyway, I had my hour-long one-on-one tutorial with Neelam-ji. And I had virtually nothing to talk about. Now, in my defense, this is only partially my fault - the tutorials are supposed to be times when you can approach your teacher about material covered that you feel uncomfortable with. But our only lesson thus far had been watching a Bollywood movie, discussion of which is blocked out for tomorrow afternoon; how was I supposed to come up with an hour's worth of conversation? So we ended up talking about Bollywood and each other's lives. I think my motives for taking Hindi are being revealed in the fact that most of the extended in-Hindi conversations I've had so far have revolved around Bollywood in some way. So the tutorial was... interesting. Anyway, Neelam-ji told me that my speaking/listening is at the advanced level (shout out to Bollywood once again), but that I will need to work extra hard at new vocab and grammar that the other kids may have learned in second year. Which is fine, I'm apt to be equally lazy in the face of all obstacles. Also she turned out to be kind of funny and sarcastic. I'm pretty sure a lot of it was about me. But she told me how proud she was that I knew my madrabhash (mother tongue), Malayalam, and was now learning... I forget the word she said, but it meant national language, Hindi. Score!
So after that I got to move in to the new flat. Half of the kids had moved in earlier in the day (there is a separation of the AIIS group - students under the Critical Language Scholarship [CLS] program have classes from 9 - 1, take classes in different rooms, and eat in a different cafeteria than we do. Despite the fact that we take the same classes from the same teachers and get the same food. I don't really understand the purpose of this), so the remaining 6 of us grab rickshaws to head to the place. Here came my first experience of having to bargain with an auto rickshaw driver by myself. He wanted to charge 4 of us Rs. 80 for the short, maximum 4 km ride (to give you an idea of how outrageous this is, the Delhi rickshaw rate is set at Rs. 10 for up to 1 km, with each extra km being Rs. 4.50). I've decided the bargaining process is all about looking frustrated and willing to leave, because the conversation was really simple (rough recount following):
"Rs. 80"
"80 rupees? That's too expensive. 40!"
"40? That will get you nowhere! 70"
"The fare is 20 rupees! We are giving you extra, don't push it. 60"
"...ok, 60"
So Rs. 15 a person. Not too bad? I would put that one in the "moderately successful" category. Anyway, after we arrived, the real drama began. Room allotment. First drama: there were 10 rooms and 11 people, so one double would have to be created. I volunteered (because I didn't really care and wanted the process to go by quicker), but getting a second volunteer was hard. Eventually another guy agreed to do it on the condition that we get the biggest room, which everyone consented to. So it's pretty sweet - have AC, wifi access, a working TV, and a balcony. Pictures coming tomorrow.
Second drama: room choice order. After Tareq (my roommate) and I were given our room, the time came for those left over to determine an order for choosing rooms. Now, this got very tense, with people threatening to walk out on the loft as a whole (leaving us to cover and extra person's rent). Even though numbers were drawn from a hat, people with CLS funding were unhappy about their low number draws. Their logic was that since the State Department is covering their housing, they shouldn't settle for less-than=ideal rooms, which I thought was a little bit diva-like. Anyway, it all worked out in the end and, as a celebration of our new flat family, a few of the guys went out and bought drinks and we had a celebration. Also, we met the aunty who lives downstairs and prepares food for us every day. She speaks no English, but is super sweet and actually took to me in particular - I think it's because she thought I was Punjabi for a while. About 5 minutes into our conversation, I mentioned that I was on a bhangra team at Yale and she gives me this knowing smile. "What?" I ask. "No no... I just knew you were Punjabi." "Actually, I'm not..." "Gujurati?" "No..." "Sindhi?"

...this process went on for another few minutes until I told her I was a Malayalee. Anyway, she seems really cool and I want to talk to both her and her son more as the summer progresses. Although the thought that took up most of my head space for the day was FINALLY I HAVE A PLACE TO STAY. No more of this moving around from place to place, searching for an apartment, etc. Finally I have a bed that will stay the same for 10 weeks.
Anyway, I've got to get back to homework. Lots of stuff due tomorrow. And I have to be up early on top of that.