Thursday, March 27, 2008

Nibha's birthday.

We had the best food ever. Not to mention a chocolate cake(a rare commodity). Liza reads a card to Nibha.
Many friends gathered and photo wars occurred. This still happens across cultures.

A handmade card that Lindsey made for Nibha. Someone has some patience for crafts.

Henna hair.

This stuff looks nasty but makes your hair feel great. Nibha applied this henna concoction to my head and I put a plastic bag over it and slept on it overnight. Now I have some red hair.

Phase I.


Phase II.


Phase III.


Phase IV.

Picnic day.

The boys love picnic day because it is a chance to leave the children's home and go swimming in the river. They strip down to their underwear and jump in. Many baby fish were caught and killed that day in an attempt to bring home a pet. The boys grabbed raw dough from the kitchen to feed their fish and I knew it was only a matter of time...

I am outfitted in my Indian bathing suit... the same clothes I sleep in or wear on a daily basis. The bathing suit I brought will have to wait to be worn until I am back in the west. Women here just swim in their clothes, if they swim at all.


Most of the women just put their feet in the water or wear their Salwar Kameez into the water. Liza and I seemed to put everyone in a state of shock when we said we wanted to swim across the canal that was on the other side of the road from the river. There is a bit of a current and steep banks. We went with one of the men who is a strong swimmer. The director and others went searching for a rope and came up with a long stick. They were convinced we were going to drown. We ventured into the water and swam at a diagonal to the current and made it to the other side without any difficulty. Everyone was surprised that we were able to do it, and the stick wasn't needed. Even when we went back to the river where everyone was at, they looked at us in disbelief saying, "YOU did?! YOU swam across the canal." Most women in this culture are not used to doing these types of things, which is probably one of the reasons we were told we couldn't go on a short hike with the boys earlier in the day. I was grateful for a brisk swim so that I could get some exercise.

Holi.

Saturday was the Hindu holiday called Holi. I was really looking forward to this holiday before coming to Inida and I wanted to see it, at least from a safe distance. It tends to be a pretty lawless day. Holi ended up being on the same day as our picnic day with all of the boys from the home. They have been looking forward to our picnic day for weeks, which involves taking the school buses to a river, going swimming, and eating food. On the way we bought some colors and chased each other around and smeared colorful powder onto faces. This was our mild version of this holiday.
Boys on the bus.


My first encounter with the colorful powder. There was more to come later in the day.


This was early in the morning. By the end of the day, most people were covered with these fluorescent colors. They end up at the river in the afternoon to wash their colors away. I saw stained clothing and remnants of this holiday days after.


A gentle attack.


My preferred color.

Filming update.

I spent the last week out at Selaqui at the children's home and I made a ton of progress on getting footage for the documentary. Frieda also asked me to create a music video for a Christian song that she wrote. I was worried about getting it filmed and edited and still being able to spend enough time with the boys. But, amazingly, I was able to spend lots of time focusing on the boys and doing this extra project. We also brought a computer out to the farm and put it in my dorm so that I could edit there. That made it possible for me to edit together the music video this last week. It is nearly finished and I have most of the footage I need for the documentary - minus a few interviews.

I was granted permission from the director of the children's home to have my little boys come up to my room to watch the music video since they are in some of the footage. This turned out to be totally wonderful. I pulled up clips on the computer so I could show each boy some footage of himself. They were laughing and pointing and thought this was so funny. It also lead to one small breakthrough with Fazil, one of the younger boys that I haven't been able to connect with as well because he doesn't speak any English. He never will hold my hand like the others do and is pretty distant. But after watching the videos he came up and held my hand while we walked back to his house. That night I had one of the other boys translate something he was trying to say to me and he said, "Ma'am, you sleep in this bed," pointing to his bed. He then pointed to the floor and said, "Ma'am, you sleep there." The following day, while Fazil was doing his sweeping chores, he came up to my door on his own. I had no idea what he was saying. Then later, I saw him again and he was trying to say something to me. I had one of the other little boys translate what he said. The boy told me, "he said he wants to sleep up there," pointing up to my room. So what I gather from this is that Fazil either wants to make a trade with me and I sleep in his bed and he sleeps in my room, or I have a new friend.
(Unfortunately, Fazil isn't in either of these photos.)

Friends.

Usually there are fresh ones of these little guys running around my room out at the farm. We have a mutual agreement that if they eat the bugs, they get to stay in my room. However, I moved a book the other day only to discover one lizard not looking so fresh.

Rishikesh.

A couple of weeks ago we took an afternoon trip and drove to Rishikesh for an adventure.


I didn't have time to check out any temples or do any yoga like most tourists do. Mostly I was disgusted by the tourists getting off of a bus, totally oblivious to cultural differences. Girls wearing halter tops and tiny shorts. There is a reason why foreigners receive so much harassment.


I did have a chance to put my feet in the ganga and watch the people traveling there for religious reasons. Rishikesh is the most Hindu place I have been since being in India because it is a holy city.


I have it in mind to ride one of these bikes before I leave. I think the shock I will feel upon returning home will be the lack of texture.


In the evening, we stood on this bridge overlooking the river and watched the sun set. It was surreal to see this place, dotted with hippies, tourists, people on a pilgrimage, monkeys, wallahs, and so much color.

Friday, March 14, 2008

Mussoorie.

We drove up to Mussoorie on Thursday to run some errands and I had a closer glimpse of the Himalayas. I can see the foothills from the farm, but Mussoorie was a beautiful place. Unfortunately, it was an overcast day so I only saw the first couple of layers of mountains in the horizon; the white caps were hidden. It was still worth it though.

We had a fabulous lunch in town, one of the first times I have eaten out since arriving here. I took advantage of it and ordered a banana lassi. 120 rupees covered the cost of lunch for three people. I would guess that is around $3.00.

Part way down the mountain, the clutch gave out on our jeep. No more clutch, no shifting, no gears. We had to put the vehicle in neutral and justed coasted about 12 - 15 miles into Dehradun. Three times we had to grind the gears in order to get into first gear so we wouldn't stall the car, but it was amazing that we made it all the way without stopping. It is quite a climb to Mussoorie and definitely a blessing that it happened on the way down instead of on the way up that narrow winding road.

Bollywood now.

Working on the documentary for the children's home and farm has had its challenges. I am still trying my best to get candid moments. But "Jenni-mam" with a camera immediately draws a crowd of children. The boys surround me and start singing and dancing, in what seems to be their version of a bollywood film. They close in on me and suddenly I have tons of little hands reaching up and pulling my arms down so they can see the view screen of my camera. They love seeing themselves.
On Wednesday I finally decided I would just let them perform for me so I had them line up and show me their dance moves. I also managed to get them to sit still and one at a time come up and do a solo dance performance. It was mostly complete chaos, but we were laughing so hard.

After all of the performances, several of the boys wanted their pictures taken holding my camera so I tied my still camera onto their wrist so they wouldn't drop it and I helped them hold the video camera. We took turns until everyone had a chance to take a photo and to hold the video camera. Even one of the house parents wanted to hold the video camera and have his picture taken. So if nothing else, we will have photos that look like we are making a documentary even if my footage is not usable for the purpose that it was intended.

Namaste and Jenni-mam.

Since my arrival in India, I have come to love the words "Namaste" and "Jenni-mam." In the streets, to strangers, my little boys, everywhere I go, people press their hands together and nod while saying, "Namaste." It is the one thing that seems to be the friendly link between the culture and language barrier. If I go for a walk in the village, I might see a little lady filling up a pot with water and there is always a mutual "Namaste."

"Jenni-mam" is what my little boys yell as they see me approaching their dorm. "Jenni-mam! Jenni-mam! You study math with me. So hard, the math. Jenni-mam, you look at this... Jenni-mam... hello, Jenni-mam. Jenni-mam, I love cricket...Jenni-mam I love the soccer... Jenni-mam you eat... Goodnight, Jenni-mam..."
These are my eleven boys that I tutor at the children's home. There are about 50 boys total ranging from age 5 - 20 at the home and they are divided into three houses. I go to the house with the youngest boys and play with them, tutor them, and do my best to make a documentary. They are different than any other children that I have been around because they do everything they can to help each other. They help each other study, they assist each other with their chores and they are never mean. They call each other brother. The boys are also incredibly appropriate, not tainted by crass humor. Completely innocent and sincere.

Several of the children really struggle in school and I have had challenges trying to figure out what they need to prepare for their exams. I realized that phonetics are not taught in school. I was trying so hard to explain how to sound out a word that a boy was trying to read and he looked at me blankly. He had to spell the words correctly on the exam the next day. There are comprehensive exams starting in the 3rd grade, which count for 90% of their grade for the year. The worksheets and class work from the entire year only count for 10%. So the boys get very stressed. Poor Ajay could not spell most of the words he needed to. I realized that I couldn't teach him how to figure it out. They only memorize here. So I repeated the words and chanted the spelling over and over until he mostly had it memorized.

It has been a challenge to not be critical of the way the the children are taught. Just because the system is different from my own doesn't make it wrong. Memorization seems to be valued more than reasoning. I am trying to not judge too quickly, but I still think that learning to sound out words could be valuable, but for now we only memorize.

Wedding crashers.

You don't need an invitation to a wedding in India in order to attend. We crashed a wedding in the village on Sunday with a couple of friends from the children's home.
However, if you do plan on attending a wedding and you are a foreigner, be prepared to be noticed. Three white girls at a village wedding caused a bit of a stir. This is something that I have come to expect everywhere I go. In fact, my picture already made it into the newspaper in Dehradun. A large full color print, which is an entire story I will save for later when I can post a picture of the newspaper article. It is a tragic tale of injustice.The food at the wedding was amazing (as is all of the food here), but we were served an entire meal at the school directors home just before crashing the wedding so I had a hard time getting my second meal down. So much hospitality.
And here I photographed the groom with his bright colors. So cultures noticing one another is a mutual agreement. In my mind anyway.

Warning: bloody photo.

Many have asked so I am posting the bloody photo.
I made the executive decision to stop taking Malaria pills today in case that is what is causing my bloody noses. So far, I have had one nearly everyday, but most of the other ones are really nothing at all, just a couple of drops of blood. This was by far the worst.

Friday, March 7, 2008

All blood, no tears.

I thought I would let you all in on my first, "I'm in India" moment. I've been known to occasionally get bloody noses and yesterday I had a couple. One at the Buddhist temple with the kids from the school. I have come to realize that individually wrapped wet wipes are like gold and so is toilet paper. I had packed both in my day bag. I used the toilet paper to clog the blood and the wet wipe cleaned my now bloody Kurta (my new Indian top I was wearing.) All of the rubbish went into the ziploc bag that was in my pack, another essential item while traveling in India. I packed out my own blood.

So later in the day, I arrived at the youth center to try importing some footage onto the Final Cut Pro system. As soon as I sat down I got another bloody nose. I grabbed more toilet paper out of my bag, although I hadn't restocked since the afternoon field trip. I ran to the bathroom to wash off the blood. A few drops of water, then no more. I searched for more toilet paper as I was running out, but none. This is India. Who would have toilet paper? I called to Liza (the other volunteer) to find some napkins at the center. We found a couple. A concerned Indian guy asked me if I needed to go to the hospital because I was bleeding badly. I assured them that I didn't. One guy led me to another bathroom when I explained that there was no running water in this one. I turned the sink on to try to wash away the blood, which was gushing out at this point. After a minute, the water was out. No more water. No toilet paper. Blood is dripping into the sink. How will I clean this up, let alone stop the bleeding? I look down, only to realize that the sink doesn't pipe out of the room, it just drips down into a bucket below the sink, which is now filled with blood and water. Sorry India, I am bleeding all over you. I then notice a small leak in the sink where it attaches to the wall. I couple of drops of holy water. There was a small bucket in the room, which is a staple of bathrooms for the bucket showers that we take here. I put the cup underneath the leak of clean looking water to catch the drops. It is enough that over time the cup fills up and I can wash the sink. I will just say that this bloody nose is probably the worst I have ever had. It poured from one nostril and then after a bit started in the second. I had Liza take a picture of the bloody massacre because it was so amusing. We were laughing at the whole situation. I bled into the sink and used a few napkins from the center and then used recycled water to wash up the mess. I just kept thinking, of course this sink doesn't drain to anywhere but this bucket, of course there is nothing to wipe up my blood, of course there is no water because I am in India. I used my final wet wipe to wash my face and arms (as best I could). I also washed with the recycled water and then I rubbed hand sanitizer on my face and arms. Glad I packed these essentials from home.

I won't post the picture of the bloody mess because I don't want to gross you out, but we did document this moment.

I am getting ready to head out the the Children's home and farm for the first time today so I won't have access to Internet for several days. So I thought I would give an update of what has been happening so far.

On Thursday I went to visit the slum and leper colony with the other girls that are volunteering. The children were amazing and loved having their pictures taken. I finally got a little bit of footage on my video camera, which hopefully I can incorporate into the video I making for the children's home. We played with the kids in a very small room, which has been converted into a classroom, where this fabulous woman has been teaching in the slum. Everyone lined up in the street and waved goodbye to us as we were driving away.

We also went to the leper colony, which is an amazing place. It was closed due to a Hindu holiday, but we wandered around anyway. The lepers spin yarn and create other textiles, which they sell to make money. I plan on going back on another day when it is up and running at full speed.

Yesterday, I went on a field trip with the children from the school. We went to a Tibetan Buddhist temple. Two small school buses jam packed with 120 children that don't speak my language all about 5 years old. I think there were about 10 adults total. At one point all of the adults were sitting on the bus eating Indian food with our fingers while the children ran wild on the field near the temple. Oh well. Things are different here. I am excited to get out to the school to meet the other children and play with the boys at the home.

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

Apparently the Internet connection is too slow to upload my photos so I will try again later. But for now, a post from India.

I arrived in India last night, and made it through customs in record time. I actually turned around and walked in a circle before exiting customs feeling like I must have done something wrong. This is India, why wasn't there a huge delay? But everything was fine. No hassle. I found my contact, Frieda, right away. I am sure my impression of the traffic will change, but for some reason I really like the chaos, horns, and driving inches from other vehicles. Riding in a rickshaw feels like a ride at disneyland.

The first part of my journey consisted of meeting a fabulous Brazilian woman at the airport who informed me that she was very photogenic and loved being in front of the camera. I made my first mistake by not taking her photograph. What was I thinking? Be bold, girl.

The train ride to Dehradun took 6 hours and was a nice way to see some of the country side. It had a built in soundtrack so I felt like I was in a Bollywood film. Hindi songs were playing over the speakers, but when they weren't playing there was a lovely group of teenage girls who provided the lyrics along with clapping. Here is a list of things you might see on the side of the tracks in you own personal bollywood film while riding a train in India
  • Trash
  • Various animals - lots of cows, a horse, mules, an ox, some sort of pigs/hogs, etc. These animals walk around randomly and in the streets. Oh yes, kids playing with goats.
  • People bathing
  • People relieving themselves (a ritual that might deserve its own post at some point.)
  • Beautiful fields. I recognized sugar cane, that's about all I knew.
  • Lots of colors
  • Dilapidated homes
  • More color
  • Women shaping cow patties
  • Men in business clothes
  • Men in business clothes peeing
  • Women in Saris
  • Women with veiled faces
  • Children navigating insane traffic on foot
  • Tons of bicycles
  • Motorcycles with 5 people on them
  • Rickshaws
  • Women carrying bundles of sticks on their heads
  • Men carrying bundles of I don't know what on their heads
So far I have learned that the coolies know everything, including where to stand on the train platform so you are standing at the exact spot where your door will land when the train stops. I knew that most everyone in India was vegetarian, but I didn't know that most people avoid even the use of the word meat, so I have eliminated meat and beef from my vocabulary. I have learned that I eat pretty efficiently with my hands (right hand, no silverware) I have learned where the tailor works in Dehradun and I will be visiting him once I have a chance to buy some clothing.

Monday, March 3, 2008

2 pairs of pants, 2 shirts, 2 skirts, 2 months. My bag is packed (after several trial runs) and I am ready for my flight. I have condensed my life into one backpack, which consists of minimal clothing and all kinds of random medications such as malaria tablets, and my video equipment. I am actually quite proud I was able to fit all of my equipment into one carry-on bag. Not to mention the gifts that I am taking for the boys at the home and school in Dehradun.

For those of you that don't know, I will be volunteering in Dehradun, India for the next 4-6 weeks with needy children at a boys school and home. After that I have another month of just backpacking around in India and Nepal. This is my blog to catalog some of those events and to let everyone know I am still alive. Status: So far, I am still alive.

My final week before departure has been hectic, but rewarding. I found a few moments to refresh my very basic knowledge of Final Cut Pro (that is what this pic is all about). I am making a short documentary video for the program I am volunteering with to put on their website and to give to potential donors. Surprisingly, the school is already equipped with FCP 5.1, but no one knows how to use it. I don't consider myself an editor, cinematographer, or teacher, but I will be giving it my best shot. Hopefully not to much time spent editing, since there is so much to see in India and my resources at home are far greater when it comes to problem solving technological issues, such as dealing with HD footage.

Many of my friends pitched in to help me with my preparations. Stephanie, as always, was a lifesaver and the epitome of efficiency. Ken helped with the geometry of packing my bag, and Christian, although appears to be sleeping, was a great help. In fact, he had some very sound advice before my trip, which I much appreciated.

It has been very interesting as I have told people of my travel plans. I find the responses to be very intriguing and the beginning of my journey and my study of humankind. For example, the man at H&R block. Who was this guy? He was in a cubicle across the room and had the need to come over and tell me that he had served in the peace corp for 2 years. Where? I don't even know. But he advised me for about 10 minutes about traveling, all of it completely useless information. One piece of his advice was, "When in Rome, do as the Romans." Thanks for the cliche, but I hope that I am smarter than that, otherwise I shouldn't be going on this trip. Everyone has something to say. Others have very insightful information and some people just say, "oh, fun!" I think, yes, it will be fun, but it's not like going to the beach for the afternoon. I wonder if I should direct these people to websites about scams, Indian toilets, and other things I am anticipating as being part of my "culture shock" upon arriving.

Despite all of the responses and the potential dangers of a journey alone as a female traveler, I feel protected and ready to go and that this is the best thing I could be doing with my life right now. I will be challenged, but it will be everything I need to gain perspective, learn about other people, and learn about myself.

**Note: It is very late so for those who are considering following along on this blog, I don't intend to continuously write "sappy" posts, such as this. I promise to include a little sarcasm and stay true to myself.