Traveling India Spring 2008

Departure

2008-05-09T10:58:00.000-07:00

I wrote this entry several days after I returned to the US, but never got around to posting it. So here is one of my last stories from India.

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I arrived home in the US early on Tuesday morning (May 6th). Going through customs was smooth and efficient. The man at the counter asked for my passport and smiling said, "April 25? My birthday is April 26th." I said, "One day a part... Happy Birthday." Then he wished me a happy birthday, stamped my passport, and looked me in the eye and said, "Welcome home." It was a friendly interaction for 5am and I definitely felt welcome in my home country.

Leaving India was filled with plenty of mixed emotion and adventure up until
the very end. I finished packing my bags and walked down to the travel agent's office with my friend Caroline. I had booked a pre-paid taxi to the airport with them earlier that day. Of course, it wouldn't be right if everything went as planned. I was supposed to have a private taxi to the airport and paid the amount for a private car so I could be sure to get there safely and on time. Well, my taxi driver started to lead me down the street. We got to a corner and he said,
"wait here." I was thinking maybe he was going to bring the car around for me. After several minutes he emerged with two other men and more luggage than I have ever seen. Among many of their bags were several duffel bags larger than me. Hmm, bodies? No, probably scarves from Kashmir. I started to process what was happening and just shook my head. Of course. They shoved the luggage into the car and the other men climbed in. Fortunately, I was given the front seat and a not smashed between two other very large men and their massive luggage. My bags were crushed, however, which gave me concern for my video camera and other belongings. The two men then slipped the driver 100 rs. Then he demanded that I give him my prepaid receipt. I showed it to him, but would not turn it over. He demanded to have it and then pointing to another man that had appeared said, "this man will be your driver." I began to protest, "No, this is not how this works. I will give this receipt to you when I arrive at my destination, otherwise I have no guarantee that I will get there. I literally have no more money to pay." I was serious too. I had given my extra rupees away to my friend before leaving and if they dumped me off somewhere other than the airport, I had no Indian currency to pay for another ride. I was starting to feel a bit angry. He pointed to the man that had appeared next to him and said, "He is your driver. She has already paid. See. He will take you." They wouldn't leave until I had turned over my receipt, so I had to give in. In hind sight, what I wished I would have done was raised my camera, snapped a picture of his face and my receipt, and winked at him and said, "just in case."

For the first time in all of my travels I actually felt like getting angry. It was awkward to ride in a car with three men, one who was a dishonest taxi driver and two other men that had paid him off in order to get a discounted rate on the service that I was paying for. I was also watching carefully out the window for signs or landmarks to make sure I was being taken to the airport. I think my frustration came not from the fact that I was being scammed, because this is not an infrequent practice. The money wasn't the issue. It was the stress of not knowing whether any other arrangements had been made. Instead of looking out the window and quietly saying goodbye to India and reflecting on my travels, I was crammed into the front seat, critically looking out the window watching every sign that passed, keeping an eye on my driver. I was taking note of all of the objects in the car and how they could be used to my advantage should I need to use my ninja skills at any point along the way. I figured if the taxi driver demanded more money, I had a verbal statement prepared for him at the end of which I would chuck
his miniature statues and incense out the window, providing a distraction so I could get my bags and run into the airport. However, nothing like this happened so really the scam came to an uneventful close when we were all dropped off safely at the airport and I managed to easily
make it through security to my gate, which gave me time to diffuse and let go of all of my defensive energy.

One last hitch. My flight changed gates during the couple of hours that I had to wait at the airport. None of the reader boards or signs reflected the change. No announcements. I had been looking around to see if something like this had happened but didn't see any notice. But near boarding time, a woman came up to me and asked if I was on the continental flight to Newark. I said yes. She said they were now boarding at gate #4. Alright. One good thing about being profiled as a white tourist is people in the airport can see you sticking out where you don't belong and direct you to the right place. So that is how I made my flight and arrived safely in the US.

Now after being home in the US for a couple of days, I am finding everything around me to feel 100% hygienic. I think I was the only person in NYC who thought the train tracks looked clean, probably because I didn't see anyone defecating on the tracks at 6am while taking the train into the city. I also felt like the city was so quiet. I remember the city being much more populated 10 years ago. But I guess an orderly flow of traffic will give that feeling, compared to the chaos of streets in India with vegetable carts, rickshaws, autos, bicycles, ox carts, motorcycles, to name only a few.

I have also noticed an intense appetite since I came back home. I am adding all kinds of things back into my diet, including meat. For breakfast this morning I had eggs, toast, ham, and orange juice. Still feeling hungry I had some trail mix and more toast with butter and jam. Then I decided it was a good idea to have an ice cream sandwich, after which I had a bowl of cereal. I really love Indian food, but there is something so good about a bowl of cereal.

So in relaying these stories of scams and contrast of efficiency, I have to say that I miss India. Even though it is a great luxury to dry myself off after a hot shower and actually use a towel as opposed to my bandanna, I would return to India in a heart beat. When I evaluate all of the bad along with the good, somehow the good comes out way on top. Plus, who can argue about sharing a Thalis (combination platter) for two and paying the equivalent of $1.25. I bought a sandwich in New York that cost $13.00. Should I feel guilty about this??

If I were male...

2008-05-04T10:16:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I arrived back in Delhi as my final destination in India. I am down to the final days of my journey and I leave India tomorrow night. It doesn't even feel like I could possibly be leaving yet, and at the same time there is part of me that is thrilled with the idea of taking a bath and sleeping in clean sheets.

My final moments in Delhi have been spent doing a little bit of shopping and I also have run into a couple of friends I made during my time in Varanasi. One is sharing a hotel room with me. When you are travelling alone, you are really never travelling alone. But this morning, while travelling to the LDS church in New Delhi, I had a moment of, "I wish I were a guy." As a female traveller, there are just certain boundaries I have to maintain that the male traveller doesn't even have to think about. For example, this morning as I was negotiating my auto rickshaw, a vegetable truck pulled up and a couple of guys in the front seat smiled and motioned to me to come and sit in the truck with them. They were offering me a ride. It looked pretty fun to go on an adventure in the vegetable truck, and it seemed like a genuine offer, but there is a chance the situation could turn bad and being all alone I knew it was best to decline the offer. I was, however, highly entertained as we pulled away in the rickshaw they drove up parralel to us on the road and there was a relay exchange of tomotoes while driving through the traffic. My driver aquired a couple of free vegetables for the day that way.

The other incident where I was wishing I was a male was only moments later when my auto rickshaw driver offered me the chance to drive the rickshaw. The traffic wasn't so bad and I really was tempted to do it. But that meant moving to the front seat sitting right next to the driver. Miraculously, during my entire travelling in India I have avoided being groped in any way like so many of the female travellers (probably due to my strict adherence to an India dress code) but I wasn't willing to risk it in my final hours in Delhi. Sadly, I had to turn down the opportunity to become a rickshaw driver and keep a more appropriate distance from my driver.

One final "I wish I were male" moment was when I was in Varanasi and I saw urinals on the side of the street with a giant sign that said "Public Convenience." I think if I were a guy I could have gotten away with taking a photograph of that sign. However, as I female, I felt a bit awkward. Mostly, I wanted it as proof that a couple of men in India actually use urinals an not just buildings or trains or whatever is close by. Plus, I am highly amused that it is not called a toilet or urinal, but rather "public convenience" because that really is what it is. There is nothing more private about it other than an open structure built conveniently for the purpose of peeing.

Budget travel.

2008-05-02T01:40:00.000-07:00

I thought I would say a few words about budget travel. Relative to prices in America, it is pretty inexpensive to travel in India. But then again you get used to paying certain prices for things and when you get ripped off, it can sting for a bit. But it is interesting how prices don't seem to make sense.

For example, a prepaid taxi from the airport in Delhi to a hotel might cost between 200-250 rs, which is about $5.00. However, during this season, a decent hotel room for one night might cost about 200-300 rs. Some intense budget travellers stay in places for 70 rs a night. So a ride in an auto might cost more than your lodging.

So when I had to change rooms at the Shanti Guest House in order to have A/C, I was a bit annoyed with the price. Relative to everything, 500 rs is a lot to pay for a room, so I was expecting a bit better quality with my upgrade. It was only after I moved into the room that I found out that the shower didn't work. I only have water for part of the day. The sink leaks all of its contents out onto the bathroom floor, so when I brush me teeth I spit it in the toilet rather than in the sink because I don't want it to land all over my feet. The A/C that I am paying for actually only works during the evening and morning, which is the coolest time of day. During the hottest time of the day there is no electricity due to power outages all over the city. I also asked for a new sheet to put on my bed and the one I was handed had giant holes in it. Thankfully, I have my trusty sleep sack.

So, this is not to complain about my hotel because it has actually been quite nice. But relative to other hotels, I have paid a lot less and had nicer rooms. But when it is 41 degrees celcius by 11:00am, there is really no point in trying to find a new hotel. It is too much work to lug a backpack around the city and I like the location of my hotel, right next to the burning ghat. But I guess that is why the hotel offers a few bonuses, such a free pick-up from the train station and free boat rides every morning and evening. Don't mind the boy on the boat who will offer you a candle and flowers to float in the water an then ask for 20 rs. This service is optional, but he might make it seem like it is a necessity.

Varanasi silk.

2008-05-02T01:08:00.000-07:00

What is with Varanasi and Goldie Hawn? As soon as I respond to someone that I am from America they say, 'Ah, you know Goldie Hawn? You come to my shop, I met her.' I think maybe she met some guru here and now all of the shop owners think they can lure you in by mentioning Goldie Hawn. But she's not really my type.

However...
Varanasi is known for several things, which I have become well acquainted with all of them. The burning ghats, which I already mentioned. It is also known for its maze of winding narrow streets, and for silk. I have never seen so much silk and about every minute I am asked if I would like a boat ride or if I would like to buy some silk. Well, now I have done both.

It was hot and I had nothing to do so I took a walk to a bakery and I was going to scout prices at a fixed price shop first before checking the bazaar for silk items but it was closed. I think I must have been profiled because some young guy asked me to tour the silk workshops where they have plenty of people working the hand looms. It was an interesting way to spend part of my afternoon. Then he lead me to his father's silk shop in their home where they started pulling out hundreds of beautiful pieces of fabric. Their favorite line is 'looking is free.' This is what I was afraid of and I think all of the salesmen in Varanasi know that once you look, you have to buy.

I knew that everything was a little too easy at this point so something was bound to happen. In the evening when I returned for my top, it didn't fit, so we had to wait a long time and try and re-try the top taking it to the tailor. I think they were getting annoyed with me because I wasn't willing to walk away with something that didn't fit. While waiting, they pulled out hundreds of scarves for us to look at in the most amazing colors. My friend Caroline who accompanied me ended up buying a couple of scarves. It was only after we left the shop and saw the same ones in the market for half the price.

Holy Ganga.

2008-04-29T22:37:00.000-07:00

If anyone has any aversions to seeing dead bodies, I don't recommend reading this post.

Varanasi is so gritty and in your face. I am fascinated by this city and everything is so natural and cyclical. When I first arrived, I walked out of my hotel and down to the ghats. I am staying right next to a burning ghat where bodies are burned 24 hours a day. I can smell the smoke from my hotel room. One of the first things I saw in this city was a body wrapped in some cloth being tossed onto a fire. It seems like that should have phased me, but it didn't. There are hospices near the burning ghat where people come and stay, waiting to die.

Last evening I took a boat ride down the river at dusk and we stopped on the other side and got out to walk around. There lying in the sand was a human skull. Right next to that, men bathing, and a group of boys were running around in the sand flying kites. They even let me take the string for a minute and I tried to fly the kite, not so successfully.

This morning on my boat ride, I looked into the water and floating next to our boat was a body. Maybe this is insensitive for me to photograph these things, but I am fascinated by everything taking place next to each other.

Bodies are burned, bodies are washed. People are cleaning their clothes and setting them out to dry, people are relieving themselves in the river. They are selling food, lighting candles, throwing flowers, offering puja. Little boys swim up to our boat to say hello. All of these things are happening on top of each other.

A couple of guys were trolling around in a boat this morning watching television. I don't even know how that is possible. We have power outages constantly in our hotel and yet they are watching television in the river.

My country is way too sterile... and at the same time, there is no way I am going to even dip a foot in the ganga. I was laughing last night as a bit of water splashed up from the boat and hit a foreign girl in the face. She unloaded most of her water bottle on her skin and mouth trying to wash off the toxic river. (Apparently, not a believer in the holy water.) But with the latest newspaper report of fecal content in the ganges, I don't blame her.

Varanasi

2008-04-29T22:27:00.000-07:00

Arriving in Varanasi after being in the cool mountains was like a slap in the face. It is scorching hot and by 10am it is too hot to wander around. So I have been getting started around 5am when it is a bit cooler.

My not so luxurious hotel does have a couple of luxuries. One is a free boat road on the ganga every morning at 5:30am and every evening at 5pm. So far, this has been the highlight and a good way to see a bit of the city without too much physical exertion on my part. The other luxury was the free pick-up from the train station so after my night journey it was great to have someone approach me with my name on a sheet of paper and escort me to an auto rickshaw. No hassles or stress.

The not so great thing about my hotel room was the first room I had was somewhat of a cell block. In fact, other travellers had written things on the walls and drawn pictures and that was written above the door. At about 11pm last night, I changed rooms. So now I am paying for two double beds, but I have A/C. My first room was only equipped with a ceiling fan, which more or less just stirred the heat around a bit. At night, it becomes not only hot, but very humid because of the river and the pollution.

Goodbye monks and McLeod Ganj.

2008-04-29T22:06:00.000-07:00

On Sunday I said goodbye to my monk friends, the cool air of the mountains, and my amazing view of the himalayas from my hotel room. Joseph and I took a sleeper bus from McLeod Ganj to Delhi, which is a 12 hour journey. The word "sleeper" for me meant no sleep. I thought having a bed on the bus would be useful for night travel, but it turns out it is a bit hazardous. I also didn't realize that they book 2 people per bed. Umm, let's get cozy. So Joseph and I crammed into our compartment and did our best not to roll out of the bunk or have any more spouts of vomiting on our way down the mountain. I am not sure if Joseph posted his epic tale of vomiting on the airplane to Amritsar on his blog, but if you like that sort of thing, you can follow his blog. http://eatpadek.blogspot.com/

Oh yes, and to be clear, I didn't end up swimming with the monks. I only watched, which was for the best. Later I saw a foreign girl swimming in the proper attire, shirt and pants, and the entire crowd of men at the pool stopped to watch her. After scoping out the situation, I figured less attention for me would be best. But we did have a lovely afternoon walking to a waterfall.

Another side note, and moment of amazing coincidence, I was in Delhi for just a few hours after taking the night bus. I had purchased a ticket for a night train and was walking down the bazaar in Paharganj to gather my things and I saw Frieda walking in the street. She had come to Delhi to pick up her daughter from the airport and meet with the publisher. It was amazing to see her even though for just a few moments. Who would have thought that was possible?

Free Tibet.

2008-04-25T22:25:00.000-07:00

I am sure that many of you are aware of the issues in Tibet right now with the Olympics approaching this summer. It is difficult to travel and to talk with so many people and see demonstrations and not feel some responsibility.

Every evening in McLeod Ganj there is a candle light procession with the Tibetan monks through the streets, which ends at the temple with some chanting and prayers. We joined the procession the other night, which was very peaceful.

It is incredible to see such a peaceful religion and people who have experienced so much brutality. One of the monks I met the other day trekked for 44 days across the himalayas into Nepal to escape with a group of Tibetan refugees some 15 or more years ago. He stayed in Nepal until just this year when he came to India to learn English.

We walk past tents everyday where Monks are sitting in a hunger strike to protest against China.

Monk friends.

2008-04-25T22:06:00.000-07:00

In my opinion, everyone should have some monk friends. These are the fellas that I practiced English with in the meadow outside of our hotel the day before yesterday. They are also responsible for throwing the best birthday party ever. Joseph and I also have a special invitation to join them at the river today for washing clothes and swimming. I didn't even know it was legal to swim with Monks. Don't worry, I won't be irresponsible like some of the other foreigners I see. I plan on wearing pants and a t-shirt for my bathing suit. Especially after I spotted a group of drunk Indian men spying on the other foreigners in their bikinis yesterday on my way back from my hike.

Birthday celebration.

2008-04-25T09:57:00.000-07:00

Today was my 27th birthday and was by far the best birthday I have ever had. For one, I am in India, so that was a guarantee. Also, I have been wanting to be 27 for a long time. Odd numbers are way better than even numbers and 27 is specifically appealing to me. There is an entire psychology I have developed behind that, but I won't go into that now.

Here is how my birthday went down. I hired a guide named Pinku, who was really more like a mountain goat than a man. We did a day trek in the Himalayas. I hiked up to Triund from McLeod Ganj, which is typically 3.5 hours, but we did it in 2 hours since I was hiking with a mountain goat. On the way, I learned several things, one of which is that rhododendrons are edible. Who knew? And we have plenty of those in Seattle. They make them into chutneys or teas or eat them with chillies. I can verify it because I ate several with Pinku on the trail today. But you have to be careful and eat them at the right time or they will make you vomit or get a headache. This was explained to me anyway.

I was feeling quite in the Himalayan element when we had to squeeze through several hundred sheep and goats on the trail. The sheepherders were moving them to a different area for this time of year.

After we reached Triund in just two hours, I decided I would rather go on further than turn back to so early. The trail was difficult and exhausting, but only an hour further and I could reach the snow line so we pressed on. There are several chi huts at different stopping points along the way, where I met some other foreigners. We had lunch at the one located at the snow line. It was totally amazing. There were thousands of ladybugs on the ground and I think I was responsible for stepping on quite a few because they couldn't be avoided. And there in front of me was Moon peak, a snowy mountain pass that was my stop sign for my hike. Several people had attempted to climb it that day with crampons and ropes, but they turned back for whatever reason. My legs were already feeling it just making it to the snow line.

And just because I am in a country of complete contrast, the hike couldn't end with this perfect scenario. On the way down we went a different way, which was sun exposed the entire time. I was sliding over loose rocks and gravel, no real trail for a good portion of the way. I was feeling a bit aggravated that we didn't go the same way we came because it was so perfect--really hard and challenging, but completely worth it. The other side of the mountain was my nemesis. My knees were aching from all of the pounding and sliding. We finally made it down near this waterfall, but I was feeling too tired to walk over and even look at it. I just wanted to make it back so I could take a hot shower. After the trail leveled out I began to feel better and soon forgot that I was feeling grumpy. It only took us a couple of hours to climb the mountain and it took me nearly 3 hours to make it back down because the trail was so tedious. It usually goes faster on the way down, but that was not the case. We also had to end with an uphill climb since we came down a different way. When we made it back I asked how far this hike was. I was told it would be 9 km round trip. So I was thinking I was really out of shape and pretty lame for taking so long, even though I made it faster than what they said it would take. But then I learned from Pinku it was actually 9 km to Triund, the first stop.... another couple of kilometers past that was the snow line. So it was more than double what I had thought making a total of 22-23 kilometers. That made me feel a bit better since there was justification for my worn out body.

After I got back I treated myself to a hot shower. We have the luxury of having a shower in our hotel room this time and there is hot water for the first time in weeks and weeks. I met up with Joseph and we went out to a birthday dinner. He had scouted a couple of restaurants during the day while I was on my hike so we sat on the rooftop of this hotel and had a really nice meal. That's right, we ate chicken. Oh, the goodness of non-veg. Just as I was getting ready to order dessert he said, "okay, we have a party to go to. We will have dessert there." I was very surprised. Now, if you haven't stopped reading at this point out of boredom, then you will be surprised too. I spent my 27th birthday at a surprise party with some Tibetan Buddhist monks. That's right, I said monks.

Yesterday, we were walking on the road and we met some Monks along the way coming back from an English class. They have been speaking English for three weeks. We went and sat with them for a couple of hours and I helped them practice English. They were so fun to hang with and had a great sense of humor. So tonight, they wanted to celebrate my birthday with me. We went to their apartment and had some birthday cake. You can't imagine how hard I was laughing listening to them attempting to sing "Happy Birthday" to me. They also surprised me with a special white scarf that is to signify good luck. I was also given a bracelet, a hand drawn card, and a blessing on my birthday cake. It was very memorable and the best and most interesting surprise party I have ever had.

Himalayas.

2008-04-24T09:51:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I took a seven hour bus ride from Amritsar to Dharamsala. It was a long ride with no AC. But I was feeling energized as we gained altitude and escaped some of the heat. I had a little friend sitting behind me whose fingers made their way onto my shoulders many times. I enjoyed the company. You are never alone on a public bus. They are packed beyond seating capacity.

I suddenly felt very flexible and at ease when I saw the white peaks of the Himalayas for the first time. This is out the bus window. We are staying in McLeod Ganj and I hired a guide to take me on a one day trek tomorrow for my 27th birthday. Seemed appropriate.

The border.

2008-04-24T09:32:00.000-07:00

Saying hello to Pakistan.

While in Amritsar several days ago, Joseph and I went with some Punjabi acquaintances to the Pakistan border where every night there is a parade and some national pride is displayed by both the good people of Pakistan and India. Separated by an iron gate, the countries military "representatives" (I say that because they look pretty ridiculous) march off and lift their legs to each other while parading around. I am not sure what this is supposed to mean, but I think it might be a little too much nationalism for me. I did enjoy watching the civilians fight over who was going to sprint down the street to carry the flag.

Flattering or not?

2008-04-24T09:06:00.000-07:00

During my travels in India, on about a daily basis I am asked to be in a photograph, which I don't complain about because I am constantly taking photos of other people. I just figure it makes everything equal--mutual curiosity. However, I think sometimes situations become a bit extreme. For example, I was visiting a Jain temple in Ajmer last week and one photograph turned into an entire fashion shoot. The family continued to increase. Suddenly there was another sister, a mother, a grandmother, more sisters, brothers, uncles. The next thing I knew there was a baby in my arms. Then I was being somewhat undressed and a fancy scarf was being wrapped around my head. My earrings were taken off and replaced by the ones the daughter was wearing. Then some blinged out necklace was placed on my neck. This entire photo shoot seemed to last forever. The funny thing is this was all done on my camera because they didn't have a camera. The family didn't speak any English, but from our sign language I think I am supposed to mail them all of these photos when I get home. I have an address written in Hindi, which I need to have translated at some point. So there I will be in all of my white glory in ALL of their family photos.

Good people of India.

2008-04-24T01:42:00.000-07:00

I have met so many lovely people during the past couple of weeks. Here are a few highlights from my time in Rajasthan:

Some Jehovah's witnesses who wanted me in their family photo in Jaipur. I am guessing they will be sending me some brochures int he mail because they were fresh out. A lovely family.

Joseph talking to this Sikh guy who plays field hockey for India's national team. He is planning on being a famous player and gave us a good lesson about his religion. Good preparation for our pilgrimage to Amritsar and the Golden Temple.

I was escorted through the vegetable market by another man to take this photograph of his friends.

A beautiful woman in the vegetable market outside of our hotel who was incredibly friendly and pulled me aside to take her photo. I so wish that more of the women here could speak English, but the men are usually the ones with education.

Several young Muslim boys in the bazaar on our way to Dargah Masjid in Ajmer.

By motorcycle, rickshaw, train, bus, and plane.

2008-04-20T23:52:00.000-07:00

So I have attempted on numerous occasions to post photos, but for some reason I have had a spell of bad karma with the internet places. I probably didn't say everything right when I was forced to offer a puja at the bathing ghats. But Joseph has had a bit better luck so if you want to see a few photos of your journey you can check his blog. http://eatpadek.blogspot.com/ You can find out about our adventure with a blind bicycle rickshaw driver.

I am currently at an airport in Jaipur getting ready to fly north to hopefully cooler weather for a little bit of a break. We are on our way to Amritsar to the Golden Temple and from there we plan to take a long bus to Dharmasala in a couple of days. Since my last post I have been to Jaipur, Ajmer, Pushkar, then back to Ajmer and Jaipur this morning to catch a plane to Delhi and then on to Amritsar. Since last night I have been on a motorcycle, a rickshaw, two buses, and now I will go on two planes. No trains today, but I have had plenty of those. Our bus ride to Jaipur was amusing. They overbook the buses so our seat numbers didn't even exist on the bus. We met another American and all sat up front next to the driver on a side seat that was over the engine. Our feet were melting from the heat of the engine. Thankfully, it was only 2-3 hours.

I have plenty of stories to tell but I think I have to wait until I have better computer karma. Maybe one of these days I will explain why if I weren't Christian I would be Muslim and if I weren't Muslim I would be Sikh.

Wrong impression.

2008-04-18T01:27:00.000-07:00

I may have given a few people the wrong impression in my last post. We actually had a really fun time in Jaipur and were highly amused by the effort to scam us. But we really were not in any danger. But, just for fun, our scammer is in this photo. Can you guess which one he is?
A. To cool for school in blue.
B. I'm a cowboy belt buckle boy dressed in all black on a hot day.
C. One of three small boys selling reject photos of several Asian people riding an elephant.
D. Pasty white guy.

Dehradun to Delhi to Jaipur to Ajmer.

2008-04-17T03:01:00.000-07:00

(Photos will come later. What kind of computer doesn't have any USB port???)

Four cities in four days. I said my farewells to my dear friends in Dehradun on Monday night. It was strange to leave my home in India to head out on the next adventure. I had an email when I returned to Dehradun from the boys home at Selaqui that Joseph was already in India, so I made plans to meet up with him.

I took a night train to Delhi from Dehradun, and my good nature got the best of me. I gave up my seat so two sisters could be in the same section. However, my new seat/bed wasn't as nice as the one I had before. Instead of being one long seat/bed like the other ones, it was two seats that folded down into one, placing the metal frame in the small of my back while laying down. All night I was trying to sleep on a metal bar since the cushion was thin. I could barely sleep. But it was my fault so no complaining.

I found Joseph when I was walking up the bazaar in Paharganj in Delhi. He was riding like a king in the seat of a bicycle rickshaw on his way to check on tickets at the train station for us. So I hopped in and we booked tickets to go on a night train to Jaipur for that very night. I was exhausted after our day of sight seeing and was hoping to sleep well on the train that night. However, I was afflicted with 4 snoring men. Why?! That was the one time since I have been in India where I was wanting to escape. I was fine with bed bugs in Agra, I could handle taxi drivers and touts, but I was not patient with the snoring men. I actually thought about chucking my water bottle on the man sleeping in the bunks across from us because I was so impatient and desperately wanting to fall asleep. I think I got my fingers wet considering splashing it in his direction. The chorus of snoring men was an assault on my soul.

We arrived in Jaipur at 5am. That is when our day of aggravation began. Although, I will say upfront, I take everything as an experience rather than as a bad memory. My one day in Jaipur went something like this...

We couldn't get the hotel we wanted so we were taken to a hotel by the rickshaw driver. It was 5am and I needed sleep. Suddenly he was ours for the day. What was I to do? We slept a bit and then our rickshaw driver came back to be our tour guide. Ali, the driver, was friendly, 24 years old, and spoke pretty good English, however a bit shady. We went to some sites and he kept pressing for us to go to this textiles shop. (So we knew he would be getting a commission for taking us there.) We told him we didn't want to go and he took us there anyway. Joseph was upset and told him so. Then there was an apology. You are my bother. Jenni, you are my big sister, etc.

Somehow, during the day, which wasn't all bad, he invited us to come to a party with friends. A farewell for a friend going to England where there would be lots of travellers, etc. I wouldn't have gone on my own, but with Joseph I decided it could be okay to meet some people and we would just leave if we didn't like the party. So we went, and there wasn't any party. We sat there wondering when the party was going to start and were having a nice conversation with a couple of the guys about politics, voting, arranged marriages. One of the guys had two wives and seven children. He was 26 years old. Then they started in about being business partners with this gem business. I could not believe it! Not the notorious gem scam! I thought, there is no way I would ever deal with this. If anyone approaches me asking me to sell gems it will be easy. NO! So we told them flat out it was not going to happen. But it was irritating that the entire day was a setup to meet up with these guys to try and dupe us into reselling gems in America. At that point, we had Ali take us back to our hotel. I went inside and watched out the window as Joseph had a little heart to heart with Ali, our driver, "our friend, our brother." (I say with sarcasm.) Joseph told him he was upset. The price had been left open to us and so Joseph said he was going to pay him more, but that he would be getting less because he was trying to be dishonest with us and was disrespecting me, and wasting our time. Ali wasn't happy about this, but we really paid him well, especially for all of the run around. More than what any of the guide books say is necessary to pay for a day tour. Plus we bought him and his friend lunch and paid for a ticket he got from the police earlier that day. He was really getting out ahead. The heart to heart was a matter of principle and then we were done with it.

Let me tell you, gem scams are alive and well in Jaipur. We cleansed our system by playing cricket with some boys in the park this morning and took another teenager out to breakfast after talking with him and all of his buddies. Then Joseph and I caught a bus to Ajmer, which is where Thalis became my new best friend--an enormous plate of food with a variety of dishes and a stack of naan bread. Oh that cures everything. We love Ajmer so far and the people here are very friendly. I refuse to believe that everyone is going to scam me so even though we watch out for these things, we are still traveling with the idea that we can make friends and meet lots of interesting people.

Farewell small boys.

2008-04-13T22:14:00.001-07:00

This last week was also my last week with my boys. I am leaving to meet up with my friend Joseph to do a little traveling before I head home. The boys that I have worked with, eaten all of my meals with, and tucked into bed every night continued to ask me all week, “Mam, why you go? Don’t go, mam. Mam, when you come? Mam, I will never forget you. You are a nice mam.” These were all of the words that melted my heart. I felt terrible to leave my boys. But even though they were asking me to stay, they were never really sad and they still had so much joy.

I wrote the boys letters and gave them some photographs on Friday. I wanted to do something nice for all of them before I left and they always ask for photos. But, once again, they showed me up with their love. I have never seen any children more excited. They came home from school and were laughing and reading their letters and looking at the pictures, trading them around, reading each others, showing me… for hours. It was more excitement than Christmas in the west. Some of the older boys had received new bibles that day from their house parent so they put their letters and photographs inside the pages to keep them safe. They save every letter or photograph they have ever been given.

That night they had a going away party for me. The boys did a choreographed dance for me holding tree branches. It was hilarious. On Saturday, I had to leave and said my final farewells to all of the children. The boys wanted to try on my backpack, which they couldn't lift.

They were so good to me, giving me their pencils, drawing me pictures, whatever they could think of. Ankit, one of the boys who really attached to me this week and constantly asked me not to leave, drew a picture that I think sums it up. There is an airplane in the clouds and down below are lots of little boys playing and some of them are bathing in a pond. I am floating down to them out of an airplane with an umbrella in my hand and off to the side Jesus is on the cross. It is amazing what these boys think about.

I leave Selaqui feeling like I have accomplished what I set out to do. Now I have the challenge to make the rest of my travels in India just add more meaning to my experience so far.

Physical Education.

2008-04-13T22:11:00.000-07:00

The students have Saturday school every other weekend and for some reason all of the students have to wear white. This just is not practical for so many reasons. For one, it is the day they do exercises and sports. Also, it requires them to buy and own another uniform just for one day. Not to mention that white is the worst possible color for children to keep clean, especially when most everything here is washed by hand.

Amanda and I had a pretty good laugh watching the children in their exercise class. One student was required to bang on a drum while the other couple hundred students moved their arms to the beat. Their exercises didn’t look like they could possibly stretch or workout any muscles, but who am I to judge. The teacher walked back and forth with a stick calling out the exercises. He stopped once to say to the class they needed to be in unison and to not be so timid. Then he said the following, “You wouldn’t go into Pakistan like this.” He backed up timidly to demonstrate. He said, “No, you would go in like this!” Then he held his stick in front of him as if it were a gun and marched forward boldly shooting his gun. Wow. That is all I had to say. Wow. I could not stop laughing and feeling somewhat disturbed by that for the rest of the day.

Short lived school teacher.

2008-04-13T22:08:00.000-07:00

At Selaqui, it was the first week back to school. I didn’t have as much filming to do, so I went to school when my little boys had to go to school and I helped out in the second grade for the first three days. It was exhausting even just assisting. I was highly amused walking into the classroom the first day and the teacher said, “You have something you want to teach?” I looked at her kind of confused. “Do you have something you want me to teach or are there books? I am happy to help.” She said, “How about you teach moral science.” I am thinking, okay, what is moral science? So I had five minutes to prepare something with a moral. She asked that there be a drama for them to perform. So in five minutes I wrote a script about not cheating, because in a class with 40 second graders and most of them don’t speak English, they all copy each other just to survive. Once I had written the script, that was the law. The children were given their dialogue and they had to say it word for word and take it home to memorize it for the next day. I felt so bad. Then she said we would perform it in front of the school at the assembly the next week. What!

The next day I walked into her class and she asked if I had a song to teach them to go with the moral. I had been trying to remember the words to a song because she had mentioned this the day before. I was hoping she would forget. But first thing in the morning, I had to command the attention of 40 students and teach them a song I could barely remember. I taught them “Choose the Right,” a song I learned in church when I was in primary. But I think I made up one of the lines to make it fit the rhyme scheme and I left off a good chunk of the song and just taught the first six or seven lines. I was actually surprised at how well they did. Especially since I had to sing the song solo to teach them the tune. They had to write the words in their planners so they wouldn’t lose it and memorize it for the performance.

However, the next day, typical to the school systems here, everything changed. The teacher was moved to a different class and the students had a new teacher. She told me I would have to teach it all over again to the new class. But on the way, I was told there was no first grade teacher. So, I had to teach 40 first graders for an entire day without any lesson plans or preparation. I won’t go into all of the details, but discipline was a constant problem. I searched through a bag of one of the students and found two textbooks. So I taught English first. Then we moved onto math, which was “special.” Science, uh, what to do for science? I searched the classroom and found a book that had leaves in it. So we learned about plants and leaves and went outside to collect leaves for an art project. Getting leaves for 40 students has its own problems. Part way through their art project, their Hindi instructor showed up. So I had to quickly get the students to put their crayons and supplies away. By break time we had already finished their four main subjects. I didn’t know what to do for the second half of the day. I found an environmental science book that had pictures of the human body, so we labeled a picture on the chalkboard of eyes, nose, etc. I tried to make this last as long as possible, including a game of charades and singing “head shoulders knees and toes.” All out of subjects and with one hour to go, I taught them “Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam” since it is a Christian school. Then we had story time and colored pictures. I was so exhausted by the end of the day and I won’t go into all of the discipline issues you face when there is a class of 40 first graders who don’t speak my language. But I refused to use some of the Indian methods for disciplining, which I had witnessed the previous day and was completely stunned.

Cycling.

2008-04-13T22:04:00.000-07:00

Last weekend I went on a bicycle ride with Nibha to the FRI (Forrest Research Institute), which is located in Dehradun. It was exciting to try yet another form of transportation here. You have to be on your guard for rickshaws, vikrams, cars, fruit carts, people, motorcycles, dogs, boars, cows, anything that might possibly appear and crash into you. We took fairly quiet streets and did not encounter any problems.

The FRI is an amazing structure. It was built by the British and is extremely clean. Hundreds of archways. It is a very large complex with several museums and I could see several scientists in their rooms working at their microscopes.

Agra bound.

2008-04-05T11:07:00.000-07:00

This past week the two other volunteers (Amanda and Liza) and I ventured out on our own on a journey to Agra to see the Taj Mahal. We took an eleven-hour train ride to Agra from Dehradun, where we stayed with some contacts of mine. They were amazing hosts, if not extremely entertaining—Brahman status and proud of their heritage. They were master craftsman on the Taj Mahal, a trade that you have to be born into; therefore, their family has been doing the precious stone inlay for generations, which can be seen on every corner of the Taj and baby Taj.

(Taj Mahal inlay.)

(Baby Taj)

We were able to tour the workshop where they practice their trade. It has been the same process for 400 years. The apprentices have no fingerprints because they are ground away by the sanding wheel.

Now the master craftsmen continue with renovation on the Taj Mahal as well as create tables and other artifacts for VIP's.

The grandfather of the household took charge of our itinerary, which was fine with use. He came right out and said, “tomorrow morning you will walk to the Taj at a quarter to six. Be back by 9am and then you will have breakfast. Take a small rest and I will give you more instructions then.” Okay. That is what we did. And it was the best time to go. The morning light was perfect and the heat wasn’t so unbearable. The crowds were less chaotic at 6am.

Tourist exhibit.

2008-04-05T11:00:00.000-07:00

At the Taj Mahal, we found the most entertainment from watching other tourists. You definitely see all types and I was mostly interested in cataloguing a few of these.

A woman from Mexico who was definitely in love with the Sari and feeling beautiful and confident.

And her counterpart, the umbrella woman.

A couple ready for a bit of meditation.

And my favorite, this old woman who will never be old wearing a white off-the-shoulder dress and posing at every corner.

Your typical cute, “I’m in India and coordinating my colors” fashionista.

Hippie guy given away by his orange blousy pants.

An Indian family on vacation.

A group of colorful Indian women. Out of ignorance I will just call them beautiful.

The men who mow the lawn and encourage you to take their picture and then demand some rupees.

And my last of all, my touristy mug shot.

Bed bugs.

2008-04-05T10:55:00.000-07:00

The only negative part about our stay in Agra was an encounter with bed bugs. I, fortunately, had my sleep sack that I had made before leaving the west, which I slept in so I wasn’t affected. However, Amanda and I woke up itching in the night from mosquitoes and feeling like there was more in these beds than just three westerners. We moved out to the roof and slept on a couple of tables for a few hours, but mostly didn’t sleep.

Poor Liza, who can sleep through anything, woke up with 400 bed bug bites all over. As we left the house that morning to take a bus to Delhi, other travelers had arrived and we were somehow wishing we could give them some sign language about the bed bugs, but couldn’t figure out a subtle universal gesture so we hope their encounter wasn’t as bad as Liza’s.

Comfort in Delhi.

2008-04-05T10:45:00.000-07:00

Delhi was a breath of fresh air to Agra. It had rained a bit so the pollution and temperature wasn’t too bad. We stayed in a hotel in Paharganj that had a roof top café. We loved this hotel, which by all western standards would have been a dive. The lobby was being renovated which equaled dust and plaster everywhere.

There were cigarette burns in the sheets but they were clean and not a single bed bug. Actually, the beds were quite comfortable. We asked for towels, which was entertaining because they looked like stained rags and mismatched colors. Air drying and using the cleanest corner to pat the water off our faces seemed the best method. I have discovered that since being in India, my bandana has served many purposes, such as a towel, a barrier between me and the mosquitoes, a dust mask, and so much more. It washes out and dries quickly. A must have for travelers.

We spent every evening up on the roof of our hotel looking out over the city and finding something delicious on the menu. For a minute, looking out over the city and just seeing the lights in the far off distance, I thought I could have been in any western city, until I looked over the edge and saw bicycle rickshaws and an action packed bazaar.

The bazaar.

2008-04-05T10:40:00.000-07:00

In Delhi, most of our time was spent shopping in the bazaar down below our hotel and in nearby markets. It was very convenient to stay in the bazaar for all of the shopping that the girls were doing before Liza’s departure back home to Kentucky. I will have to wait another month before loading up on colorful goods.

I have to say, I exercised great restraint and did not fill up my backpack with beautiful textiles, shoes, and jewelry. I reminded myself that whatever I buy I have to carry for the next month. So a pair of earrings and another kurta were added to the backpack... oh and some bangles. (Come on, the bangles were obviously necessary...)

Country of contrast.

2008-04-05T10:30:00.000-07:00

On our last afternoon in Delhi, we wandered over to Conaught place and then on to the Imperial Hotel. This gave us an entirely different view of India. Such a huge contrast. The Imperial is a 5 star hotel with not an ounce of dust.

Every inch is polished and immaculate. This was the only place where playing our white card came in handy. The rest of the time we were trying to bargain for the local price, but being westerners we could walk into the luxury hotel to spy on things and no questions asked. We used their bathrooms and were in disbelief. They came equipped with toilet paper and, the best part, soap! We washed our hands thoroughly. There was a stack of rolled up white wash cloths garnished with fresh flowers. We each took one to dry our hands and decided, why not? So we washed our arms, faces, and necks. Thank you five star hotel for your free services.

The thing that makes the contrast of India so apparent is walking out on the street right outside of the palm tree lined drive of the hotel. Right away I saw a small boy without a leg and a woman holding a baby leading a man that could barely walk with sores all over his body. We already felt like queens staying at our hotel above the bazaar in paharganj having a roof top café. I don’t think I could handle an upgrade.

A return, sickness, and sewage.

2008-04-05T10:23:00.000-07:00

We said our goodbyes to Liza, as her journey has just ended in India. Amanda and I took an overnight train back to Dehradun and the following night I got sick for the first time. I vomited several times in the night, my first stomach sickness in India. I guess it was too good to be true being here a month already and no problems. Fortunately, it only lasted one night and now I am back to good health. It just meant I had to delay my return to the boys at Selaqui so I won’t be able to see them until Monday when I can catch a ride out to the village. My time is nearly up with them.We have had tons of rain, which has given me a glimpse of what this place might look like in monsoon. The open sewers that run alongside the road overflow into the streets mixing with rain and garbage that people litter out their windows. I had to wade through a bit of this the other day on my way to pick up some clothes from the tailor. I looked at the rushing fluid and thought, “Okay, I can handle this. It’s all part of the experience.” The best part is that the rain has settled the dust and pollution so we had a really nice view of the foothills of the Himalayas last night from Frieda’s roof. Nibha and I sat on the roof for a while watching the traffic of bugs that had emerged from the rain and watching the light pop the colors on all of the neighborhood houses.

Nibha's birthday.

2008-03-27T06:41:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-03-27T06:34:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-03-27T06:15:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-03-27T06:00:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-03-27T05:38:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-03-27T05:34:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-03-27T05:13:00.001-07:00

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.

Mussoorie.

2008-03-14T07:09:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-03-14T07:07:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-03-14T06:54:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-03-14T06:45:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-03-14T06:29:00.000-07:00

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.

All blood, no tears.

2008-03-07T22:04:00.000-08:00

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.

2008-03-07T21:39:00.000-08:00

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.

2008-03-05T03:32:00.000-08:00

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.

2008-03-03T03:34:00.001-08:00

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.

2008-02-19T01:21:00.001-08:00

Destination: Dehradun, Uttarakhand India