The End

Better late than never?

I was struck by the feeling that this blog needs to be finished.  Given an appropriate ending.  Closure?  Or I may be procrastinating instead of finishing my ten page paper on "Modern Social Imaginaries".  Can you blame me?

Nevertheless, I'm sitting in my kitchen in Huntingdon, Pennsylvania - about as different a place from India can't really be imagined.  Maybe that's why I was thinking about it - and the last leg of my trip.  

In truth, it feels like a lifetime ago, but I'll do my best to pick up where I left off.  I think in my last post I was sitting in a little bakery in Darjeeling, remembering the intensity and heat of Varanasi.

Darjeeling - one of my favorite places.  I know I've probably said that A LOT since the beginning of this blog, but it really was.  Darjeeling was unlike any place in India that I visited - it was almost like being in a completely different country.  For one thing, it was (temperature wise) so unbelievably cool, and grey too!  A refreshing change from the heat and smog of the rest of India.  And the people were so different - physically, they looked very Tibetan, and Tibet did seem to be a major theme.  The colorful Buddhist flags hung everywhere, Tibetan momos (little yummy steamed dumplings) were sold for practically nothing, and the atmosphere was relaxed and wonderful.  Nobody stopped and stared at us, or yelled annoying things, or trying to sell us souvenirs.  It was an unbelievably liberating feeling - Kate and I wandered around the markets and little alleyways completely at ease.  And those we did chat with were friendly and fun - curious about our travels and our backgrounds, but without prying.  

A new shopping mall/complex had just been built, so on the one or two rainy days we stopped in and watched the new Bollywood movies (lots of fun, especially when half way through the movie you realize it's a copy of a Hollywood movie and can finally follow what's going on - there aren't any English subtitles).  The guards recognized us the second time we came around and were immediately friendly and cheerful in their greetings.   

And the food!  Fresh momos - lots of them - for less than a dollar.  Amazing soups.  And of course, tea.  Kate and I stopped in a tea shop where you could sample teas - I think we went through at least 4 each, pretending that we had any idea which one was better than the other.  Bakeries with fresh muffins and desserts.  You could sit by the wind, perched high up, overlooking the misty valley.  It was damp and chilly - all the better because I could finally wear a sweater and sneakers and long pants again.  Despite our vows to be motivated and get up early and trek, Kate and I were lulled into contented laziness by the slow, cheerful rhythm of Darjeeling.  It was like R&R to the max. 

But all good things must come to an end.  The drive down the mountain was phenomenal - Kate and I got squeezed into the front seat with the driver and were given the best views the whole way.  The tea plantations are lush and green - the color is mesmerizing, and the contrast was breathtaking after my months in the desert.  We saw women climbing up steep hills and ravines with baskets of tea leaves.  Each tea plantation we passed had an outrageously Victorian style colonial sounding name - Margaret's Hope, Springtime Bloom, etc. (including some we had tasted!)  

And then, we were back in India.  It really was like being back after taking a vacation away - the jeep dropped us off at the bus stand, and we were immediately surrounded by harassing rickshaw drivers.  I could feel my aggression springing back after days of lying latent - Darjeeling had made me temporarily soft!  And then we were off to an hotel for our last night before going off our separate ways, back home.

I jumped on my flight back to Delhi, while Kate survived the arduous journey to Kolkata before going back to DC.  It's never fun to say goodbye, and traveling two weeks with a complete stranger in India (and surviving our ordeals!) makes you surprisingly close (I would say two weeks in India is the equivalent of at least a year elsewhere).  - As a little side note, Kate and I got to meet up in DC this summer and plan to meet again later.

Anyways, I made it to Delhi thanks to the wonderfulness that is Jet Airways (highly recommended, really!), managed to get a ride to my hostel from a Canadian man who was sitting next to me on my flight from Darjeeling, and arrived at (easily) the shadiest hostel I'd stayed at yet.  Not to mention the most expensive.  I also need to mention that it was probably 43 degrees C at this point, and my room was an oven.  I don't think I've ever been so close to hallucinating from dehydration as I was that last night in India - I actually woke the hotel owner up in the middle of the night to buy water because I was pretty sure I wasn't going to make it through the night without drinking.  

As a tribute to my last shower, the water ran out after filling not even a quarter of my bucket, so I was left to wash my soapy hair with dirty water (what had rinsed my dirty hair!) and convinced me that the sooner I was on my flight the better.  I spent the rest of the day roaming through Connaught Place (the major shopping area), ducking into Cafe Coffee Days' (there are several there) to avoid the heat, then leaving due to the over interest of Indian men in me as a lone white woman, and relocating to the next closest cafe.  

I did find myself in a fascinating conversation with a Kashmiri where we discussed the role of fate.  He explained, and I paraphrase, that what will be, will be.  For instance, if I were to go to Kashmir (long known for its violence and political instability) and get shot, well, that simply meant it was my time to go.  I told him that we in the West think a little differently and feel that certain situations where you are more likely "to go" can be avoided.  He disagreed.  

Needless to say, I enjoyed it until he became a little too interested in my views on dating Indian men.  I excused myself and relocated to the next Cafe Coffee Day in the circle.

Finally - night rolled around.  My flight left at 5 am (lots of fun, really) so I left for the airport and camped out.  Watching the chaos of the airport around me.  Smelling the smog and pollution of Delhi.  Not sure how I felt about leaving, despite my excitement to be back home in Belgium and see my family and friends.  

But ultimately, it's time to board, and I was too exhausted to think too much anyway.

My first reaction as I walked off the plane into the oh so neutral smelling airport in Brussels was to the realization that I smelled.  That same overwhelming smell that India has, but that is so undefinable.  Maybe it's the spices, but there seems to be so much more than that.  It's just the smell of India.  Even now, when I pick up my scarfs to tie them on, I get a whiff of it - faint, elusive, but ever present.  

And then my parents were there and I was outside and it was so cold and grey and rainy, and it was home.  

It's been almost 6 months since I left India, and in some ways it's almost like it never happened. There's no way to reconcile my life in Central PA with the way I lived in India, and it's easier to avoid any comparisons, which means that India is put away for now.  

But India was a defining experience for me - maybe more so than any other time in my life, which is hard to imagine.  Even now, I can recognize the changes in me that stem from my experiences there.  India helped me to grow, regardless of whether or not I was ready for it.  I met wonderful, inspiring people that I connected with in a way that I felt I hadn't in a long time.  There is a spontaneity, an openness that I miss, and that we lack here in the West.  Admittedly, there are things that were still hard to deal with, even after months there, but I'd like to think that I was better at taking them in stride by the time I left.  India is nothing if not a challenge, and I arrived with that in mind.  But I left with the feeling of losing another home.

In case you're wondering - I'm currently applying for a language scholarship to study Hindi in Jaipur this summer.  Seems like it got under my skin...

Sorry to make this last entry so long - but I wanted to wrap it up completely!

Thanks to those of you who followed this with me and listened to (or read) my rants and praises of India.  It meant so much to me to know that you were interested - and this blog was crucial for me in my processing of all these experiences.  I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did... and are maybe now ready to come with me on my next trip to India? :)

Varanasi and its quirks

Last leg of my trip – hard to believe that in a couple of days I’ll be back home!

It’s been a whirlwind last couple of days, though, and as usual, nothing short of exhausting. After leaving Udaipur last Tuesday, we headed to Agra for a day (so that Kate, my travel buddy, could get a glimpse of the Taj Mahal). It was so much hotter than the first time I was there – it was all I could do to get myself out of the (slightly) cooler room and walk around in the stifling heat. But I’ve already gone over Agra, so I won’t bore you with a repeat (especially since there’s not that much, not including the Taj).

Then, we took an overnight train to Varanasi – also known as one of the holiest (if not THE holiest) city in India because of the Ganges River. Indians from all over the country (and overseas) come to Varanasi to wash the bodies of their dead loved ones and cremate them, to scatter their ashes back into the Ganges.
I wasn’t sure what to expect, as Varanasi is notorious for its’ touts and tourist scams (being similar to Delhi and Agra in that respect). I was unprepared to love it so much, despite the craziness and noise and overwhelming ambiance of the city.
When we arrived at Varanasi Junction (at least 5 hours late, miserable and hot and sweaty in the train) we were brought down to the old city to find our hotel, which was located amid the alleys and tiny streets. Because auto rickshaws aren’t allowed through the streets, our driver got out and led us on a 1 km walk through winding streets (in the heat, with our packs on – quite a workout!) until we reached our dingy, very shabby hotel.
The next morning, we got up to find the ghats. Ghats are the stairways leading down to the Ganges, and Varanasi has dozens of them along the banks of the Ganges. Certain ghats are known for certain things – the most famous being the Burning Ghats, where the bodies are purified in the water and then burned. Kate and I actually had the hardest time finding the ghats because of the alleyways – we couldn’t stop getting lost and had to be pointed in the right direction at least half a dozen times.
We finally located the elusive ghats. The best way to see them is simply to walk along the banks, and watch all the activities around the ghats. In a way, it’s a little bit like a boardwalk – except filthy and unhygienic. Varanasi was by far the smelliest city I’ve been in yet, and that’s saying a lot. There seemed to be animal excrement (and probably human as well) in every corner of every alley or in every nook of every building. Combined with the intense heat (it was well over 40 C) the smells were sometimes… overwhelming, to put it mildly.
Walking along the ghats allows you to see people doing their laundry, bathing, or just swimming for fun. There are boats that touts ply you with – “Boat ride, Madam, madam!” – and a myriad of other vendors selling touristy items.
But let me jump to the best part – the burning ghats. As tourists walking around, you will inevitably be “adopted” by a guide desperate to impart his knowledge, and, ultimately, get a nice tip from you (which you inevitably have to give). The other little payment comes from you in the form of a donation to the hospices, where you can buy wood that will be donated to poor families who cannot afford enough wood to burn their dead. If you don’t donate enough, the workers there will wring their hands and admit their worry for your karma – they only want to see you improve your own karma and if you don’t donate enough, well… the result is potentially unspeakable. I think it’s a good sign of how long I’ve been here that I remained unmoved by this dramatic, moving speech and held out on giving only 100 rupees (not enough for a full kilo of wood!).
However, we had the good chance of stumbling across a guide who talked to us for about 1 hour, and was just an amazing source of information. He took us up to a terrace where we could get a good view of several burnings going on and explained the process. We watched a family carry a body wrapped in red cloth to the riverbank, delicately lower it into the river until it was fully immersed, and then bring it back on land. Then, a pyre is built – there are 4 different kinds of wood that can be bought, the most expensive being sandalwood, costing a shocking 3 to 4 thousand rupees per kg, the cheapest being around 180 rupees per kg. Considering that around 20 kgs of wood are needed for the average adult body, these cremations cost small fortunes.
The family then continues the mourning process – the male relatives shave their heads and pray while the body is placed on the pyre. The pyre is lit by a flame from the Eternal Flame, a flame that has supposedly been burning for 4,500 years. The relatives (only the male relatives, the women are not allowed to watch the ceremony due to their emotional tendencies) watch as the body burns for several hours.
There are also different places for the bodies to burn if they were religious men or soldiers. Our guide brought us down to where a religious man’s body had just been cremated – the wood was still smouldering – and as another man came to clean out the area, washing it down with water, Kate and I were anointed in the flying ashes of the ex-religious man. I forced myself to see it as some kind of sign of blessing or good luck. It also apparently means that any ghosts, lions or tigers will smell the ash on us and never attack us. Interesting.
We were also encouraged to donate money for the hospices – shabby houses where old people come to die – to an old “Ama” who supposedly was good friends with Mother Teresa and knew Princess Diana. She was also, according to our guide, 118 years old, and still stood in the Ganges every day for 4 hours chanting mantras for the good of the Universe. Needless to say, she seemed unpleased with my meager donation of 50 rupees, thus lowering my view of her as the all loving woman. Oh, India.
The last interesting tidbit from this is that there are 4 types of people who may not be burned: children under the age of 10, pregnant women, anyone killed by a cobra and lepers. The first three are considered pure and therefore do not need to be burned, and lepers – probably due to health reasons. Instead, these people are tied to a wooden plank with coconut rope (doesn’t degrade in water) and are dropped into the Ganges.
Our guide said that occasionally a body will get detached and bob up to the surface. It really curbed my longing to jump into the water, despite the heat. Apparently on the other side of the Ganges, you can see bones.
Needless to say, Varanasi has a sort of ambiance and atmosphere that you won’t find in other places. There is such an emphasis on religion and karma, yet many of the same hypocrisies remain – for instance, as we were desperately trying to get to the train station to catch our train to Darjeeling (we were late, of course) we found ourselves ganged up on by all the taxi drivers so that we had to pay a higher price than we KNEW was fair. So frustrating, as always. Kate and I yelled at them, called them cheaters, threatened their karma, but to no avail. Sometimes India still gets the better of you, no matter how experienced you are.
I am now sitting in wonderful, lovely, hassle-free Darjeeling, up in the mountains of West Bengal. I think our trip to get here was the longest, most difficult yet (a five hour delay on our train, then trying to get a jeep up to Darjeeling from Siliguri was a nightmare) but we finally made it and are reveling in the genuine calm and goodness of the people here. It’s unlike any place in India that I’ve been, and I have not felt so relaxed and un-hassled since arriving here in January.
But that may have to wait for another entry… more thoughts to gather! Meanwhile, we leave here tomorrow afternoon, and I fly out to Delhi on Saturday before preparing for my final flight home…
Miss you all!

Packing out

Leaving Udaipur feels strangely like another move - and that's both an unpleasant and unexpected feeling.

Last week was my final week teaching, and I had such a good time with my students. On Friday we went to another school and painted a classroom that had just been built - we painted the ABC's, numbers, a map of the world and pictures of vocabulary the kids need to learn. We played with the kids afterwards - they were happy to throw themselves into our laps and play with our hair or just grab our hands.

The rest of the time was spent running around finishing all of my errands, and arranging my travel plans. I leave Udaipur tomorrow for Delhi, to transfer to Agra (my travel buddy hasn't seen the Taj yet, so we'll stop there on route for Varanasi). I just have to be back in Delhi on the 28th to catch my flight home... hard to believe that in exactly 2 weeks I'll be back in Belgium.

My last days in Udaipur have been sad, but heart-warming. My favorite tailor insisted that the next time I come to Udaipur I would have to stay at his house. My favorite juice lady invited me to eat a home-made Thali at her house tomorrow. Udaipur is so small that everyone knows that a group of us from this organisation are leaving, so as we walk up and down the streets various shopkeepers stick their heads out to yell "Have a nice journey!" or "Come back soon!". Our favorite cafe owner had all of our post-departure schedules memorized, as he brought our usual orders which he has memorized now.
I will miss this place so much more than I ever expected to when I first arrived. Somehow Udaipur got under my skin and has begun to feel like home, at least to a certain extent.
And only two weeks left in India - I don't even want to think about how it will feel to fly out...

I'll do my best to keep you all posted on my travels - I'm psyched to have a little extra time (and money!) to do some more sight-seeing before getting home and starting work.

Miss you all!

Incredible India

I've just gotten back from another run into town - Jannie and I (one of the other volunteers) were squished into the back of a tempo (which is a bigger version of a rickshaw, and is essentially a public transportation vehicle). These tuk-tuks should legally be only allowed to hold about 10 people, but in the late afternoon when it's particularly busy, you can easily pack in at least 16 people in one tempo, which usually means 4 or 5 people on each bench (which only hold 3 comfortably), 4 in the front including the driver, 2 or 3sitting on the floor behind, and sometimes one standing on the outside step, holding on for dear life.

Anyways, imagine that scene in your head, with two foreign girls squished into the sides. We were instantly an attraction (not unusual about that) and pretty soon the one English speaker was firing questions at us as directed by all the other passengers about who we are, what we're doing in Udaipur, do we like India? etc etc.
At one point we were asked, "Does Indian food give you digestive problems?" In retrospect, I should have felt at least a smidgen of surprise or embarassment, but at the time it seemed like a perfectly normal question to ask a complete stranger, and responded that yes, sometimes Indian food did not go down as well as I would like. This was greeted by a chorus of responses and spirited answers (all in Hindi, unfortunately - I would have loved to know what they thought), and one or two more questions asking, "Is is the spicyness?", "Do you eat alot of bread?" etc etc.

Apparently, this discussion of digestive problems did nothing to make us less attractive to the younger men, who asked the English speaker to ask us if we were married, and if not, did we like the idea of marrying Indians? To which I replied, VERY promptly, that at this point, no, we are not looking to marry ANYONE. Period.

Jannie and I laughed the entire walk home from the tuk-tuk. Another priceless experience - the idea of anything like that happening back home is ludicrous, unthinkable. If anyone had asked me those questions at home I would probably have been appalled and shocked. But here, it seems normal. Or at least acceptable. It's a perfect example of the "no privacy" rule that is so ingrained in Indian culture, and which I love so much.
Only in India!

Last teaching week!

My last week in Udaipur... hard to believe that it's come and will be gone soon.

This is my last week at the school as well - which means I'll have finished a solid month of work with my students. I have mixed feelings about leaving - part of me is ready for a boost of energy and something different - but I've grown attached to these kids in so many ways.
Last week was not the easiest of weeks though - we switched to the summer schedule, which means we are now at school for 4 hours a day, starting from 9:30 am to around 1 pm. Part of that is a 30-45 minute built in play schedule, which has been a trial to bear for us volunteers. Last Wednesday was an absolute nightmare - we spent the whole time fighting the kids off as they grappled to get to our bags and climb on us and take our things. They've since sent in backup coordinators as "bodyguard" support, and that has really improved the situation.
The real issue is that since the schedule switch the attendance rates have sky-rocketed - my class, which was usually around 11 kids, now has an average of 20 every day. We were completely unprepared the first day and had to scramble to improvise and get materials for everyone (which we didn't, anyway). Keeping the attention of 20 seven year olds who speak about 10 words of English is harder than you could ever imagine - there have been days where I'm not sure that anything is getting through to them, and in that case, am I doing anything worthwhile?

Part of our task includes feeding them - which means that we help them wash their hands at the pump and then serve them the food that the government provides for all school-going children. It's not an easy job either - especially when you have 60 kids jostling to get the next plate. The actual teachers just sit back and let us volunteers do the work - just as they let us do the bulk of the teaching work. I am disgusted by the teachers at my school - most of them sit around for hours, occasionally getting up to yell at the classroom they're in charge of, and then sit back down to gossip some more about their classes. In many cases, they don't show up for class, and dozens of students will simply sit quietly in empty classrooms, doing nothing. It's appalling. At those points, I realize how happy I am to be here and be giving my kids some kind of attention, regardless of whether or not they're truly learning something.

So, as I wrap up my last week here, I find myself doing a myriad of errands - most of them involving present shopping and schedule planning for my last two weeks in India - and it's exhausting. I stop at my regular juice stand when I can, and try to go to my favorite sellers and see them. I'm only realizing now how at home I feel here, and how much I will miss this city.

It's been a funny couple of days though - the last 2 or 3 days have been gusty and gray and (dare I say it!) almost verging on chilly (at least in the morning...). A welcome change for me, at least. It rained a couple of times, which was heavenly, but it seems that as of today the sun is back in business. The only problem remaining now is that the area of town we live in has encountered a water shortage, so all of the water pipes have been turned off. Since last night we've had no water coming through, and it sounds like we won't have any until Wednesday. We've been able to procure one bucket of water per room (for the most basic washing, and for flushing our toilets - we have no flushes and have to flush by hand any waste down with extra water) so that's proving to be a little tricky. Some of the girls are getting anxious - I personally wish I'd decided to shower yesterday as opposed to Saturday - but generally, everyone's used to having an extra layer of dirt on their skin, and it's really no big deal.

To stir things up a bit more, the power cuts have been much more frequent and unscheduled as well - though I'm not sure why. I think we're all pretty used to that as well by now, though it's never fun to lose everything you've been working on at the computer when everything switches off.

Oh, India.

So, one more week of this, and then I'm off. It looks like I'll be heading by train to Varanasi (the holiest city in India) and from there going East to Darjeeling (a hill station). I couldn't be more excited - it'll be nice to seem something green after months in the desert. And then, I'll slowly make my way back to Delhi to fly home... But it's too early to think of that.

Miss you all!

Teaching, community visit and Udaipur in general

Hard to believe more than a week has passed since my last post! Teaching is keeping me busy – busier than I would have expected.

Udaipur is steadily getting warmer, though yesterday we had a thunderstorm. I’ve never been so grateful for gray skies and clouds – it was such a refreshing change from the blasting heat of the sun in a clear, blue sky.

As for my kids, I now have all their names down and can more or less keep them under control. There are days that are worse than others – particularly when all the rascals decide to attend and make it their business to keep everything chaotic. But mostly, the kids are genuinely great and so excited to do our activities. Their favorite thing are the storybooks – none of them own books, so to be able to see a storybook is a huge treat for them. I have to hide it in my bag or else they bother me about during the whole class (I save the story for last), saying “Didi, book, book!”. As soon as I pull it out, they all gather claustrophobically close around me so that they can touch the pictures on the page and discuss among themselves what everything is. Even though they can’t understand any of the stories, I read it anyways, and have them count out or call out what colors certain things are. The other day, they all ended up standing around me, chattering and trying to touch the pages until I could barely turn to the next page. It’s one of my favorite parts of the day – I love how excited they are.

The most difficult part is the lack of resources. Mark and I spend a lot of time re-tracing our own connect the dots (15 copies of each, all by hand!) or create our own flashcards and posters. All our worksheets are handmade, and we often copy them by hand to make enough copies. It continues to remind me how lucky (and how much we take for granted!) we are to have so many facilities and materials available to us. Even with the meager things we have though, the kids are thrilled, which is also a harsh reminder of how little they have to begin with. We're hoping to do some side projects - such as paint the schools and fix some students' uniforms.

Last Wednesday we did a community visit, which meant we went into the village of the school where we teach. With a local coordinator to translate, we met the parents and grandparents of our students and could tell them how their child/grandchild was doing, whether or not he/she attended regularly, etc. Mostly, it was fascinating to see each student’s house and get to see how they lived. I’ve done plenty of village visits in my life, but this meant so much more because of the personal connection we have with our kids, even after only 2 weeks of teaching.

The living conditions (in the same village) ranged from poor to average to well off. In one or two huts, there were televisions and even DVD players, while the poorer families had 2 rooms (maximum) and all slept in the same room together. One house we stepped into had a baby calf tied up next to the pallets on the floor. It’s difficult to imagine how a family of 8 or 10 people (immediate family and often grandparents or aunts and uncles live together) crowded together, sometimes with chickens and goats in the same room. Yet every parent was cheerful and friendly when we spoke with them. The students (who followed us the entire time) were shy but so excited to show us their homes. They climbed trees to pick tamarind for us, ran to bring their younger siblings to introduce to us and generally wanted to show us everything about their lives outside school. It was an eye-opening visit – not so much because I was shocked by the poverty, but because it was the first time I could put it in the perspective of people I feel genuine affection for.

There are now 3 more volunteers who have just arrived, and it’s almost amusing to see their reactions to certain things – reactions that I remember perfectly from my first weeks here. Other tourists that I meet in town gripe about things like bucket showers and cockroaches in rooms, but I find myself enjoying how basic things are. Don’t get me wrong – I’ll probably be the first to enjoy a nice, hot shower when I get home – but I love how things are simpler here. I love dressing in long, flamboyantly colorful clothes, and I love being able to strike up a conversation with anyone without them thinking I’m strange for interrupting their “privacy” (a concept that does NOT exist here in India). I love the colors of India, and the busyness of everything.

Granted, I do not love everything. I’m sick again and had to miss school today – 2 of the other volunteers are also down with similar bouts of Indian fun. Sadly, in many ways I’m getting too used to it – it would be impossible for me to do half of what I had planned if I stayed home every time I started feeling nauseous.

But it’s all part of India keeping me on my toes! I am already planning ahead for the last leg of my time here (so hard to believe it’s slowly wrapping up), and it looks like I’ll be here for about 2 more weeks before getting in two more weeks of travel. And then, home. At this point it’s impossible for me to think about going home – India is so absurdly different that I can’t put home and India in the same thought. So we’ll see. Until then, Udaipur is still keeping me busy :)

Miss you all!

Holi Pictures!

Holi - crazy festival of colors and generally drunkeness and disorder.
You celebrate it by running around and spraying people with water and throwing colored powder on them - which is what we did today! I'm still scrubbing out the remains... but here are some pictures :)