Wrapping Up

Its nearing that time when I should begin to reflect on what I’ve done, panic about not knowing what’s next, be sad about leaving India, be excited about going home… There have been adequate doses of each of these emotions over the past few weeks, but mostly I’m just busy with work and trying to enjoy what’s left of my time in Bangalore.

In any case, if you are interested in reading my reflections on my experience and what’s ahead, you should enjoy this entry.

Reflecting On What I’ve Done

Work has been a roller coaster. I’ve felt at times that I don’t know my place here, don’t understand the work culture, haven’t made as big of a difference as I set out to. Then I think about where I started and how much I’ve learned, grown, and contributed. I realize that my knowledge of microfinance and the development sector in India has grown by leaps and bounds.

My work has primarily focused on providing low-cost, efficiency producing communication materials and trainings to our field staff and customers. Initially uncertain of what the impact of this type of work would be, I now see that it can have significant business results. Our customers lead busy lives and need to easily be able to make informed financial decisions. My projects have helped to reduce the amount of time required from our customers during trainings and increased the sales of underperforming and new loan products.

More recently I got involved with launching an Individual Lending Product, which has by far been the most interesting and satisfying part of my experience. I truly think that it is a stepping-stone for customers on their path out of poverty and towards financial freedom. It is an opportunity for customers accustomed to the group lending system to become integrated into a more “traditional” lending process. Additionally it enables MFIs to offer larger loan amounts and diversified products to their customers, without jeopardizing an entire group.

Most importantly on the work front, over the past few months I have been able to really come out of my shell, which has resulted in some meaningful relationships. Assimilating into a new culture or work environment is never easy. I knew this before coming, and although it was tough at first, the pay off of feeling a much deeper cultural understanding is huge. The “Break Throughs”, small or big, have been incredibly motivating, and were a big reason that I signed up for this fellowship in the first place.

Panicking About Not Knowing What’s Next

Me? Panic? Unheard of.

Believe it or not, I’m actually not in severe panic mode about not knowing what’s next. I was a few months ago. Many thoughts, experiences, books, and conversations have occurred since this panicked state. Now I am in a mode of keeping my options and my mind open, holding out for something I will be really happy with, and enjoying a bit of down time with my family. It’s actually last been since the 10th grade in high school that I was unemployed for more than a week or two. I need a break!

I do know something about what is coming next though; A concerted effort to start doing the things I enjoy more, putting more effort into trying new things, and meeting new people. I’ve had some really positive influences here in India that have taught me about how to balance work with personal interests, and even allow the two to intersect. I look forward to giving this a shot wherever I end up next.

I think the thing I am most panicky about relating to my return to the U.S. is this fear that my life will be incredibly boring. Probably my only plan is to not allow for this.

Being Sad About Leaving India

Yes, it’s true…I will be sad when its time to hop aboard my Air India Jet bound for JFK airport via London, Heathrow. I’ll probably be more ecstatic about going home than sad, but sad nonetheless.

There are an infinite number of small things that I will miss about India. The food, the love for deep conversation, the crowds, the colors, nature, the diversity of culture and language, access to the richest of the rich and poorest of the poor, the hospitality, the lack of planning, the weather, the travel, cricket, the classical music, yoga….The list could continue indefinitely.

Its going to be difficult to part with all of these things, but what is scariest is that I wont have anyone to share my experiences with when I get back. Sure, I can tell my friends and family all about the little details – well at least for the first week or two. Then I will probably begin to drive them up the wall and will also begin to feel like no one is listening to me when I talk.

India has been my life for the past year, but when I go back I will more or less resume things where they left off. I suspect that finding ways to keep the experience alive will be critical to my sanity. Continuing to build on the friendships I’ve made while here and incorporating aspects of Indian culture into my life in the US are two of my goals to help ease the “reverse culture shock”.

Being Excited About Going Home

In many ways, this is probably the most predominant feeling that I am experiencing now. My mom told me once that she feels that I am quite courageous for signing up to spend 11 months in a country that I know little about that is half way around the world. Half jokingly, I told her that it was more a lack of thinking the decision through than courage. If I really knew what I was getting myself into I would have at least had second thoughts before flying over here.

Being away from friends and family – my culture, my life – for such a long stretch isn’t as easy as I expected. I’ve spent a lot of time over the last year thinking about the things from America that I miss, and wishing that I could see my loved ones. Particularly in a country like India, where there is an enormous value placed on the family bond, I’ve had to really take into consideration what my goals are, and how I can be independent, but at the same time be a more active participant in my family life.

It has been an important learning experience to realize the importance of my family and the value that I place on our relationships. This really hit home when I became conscious of the fact that I would start looking forward to my weekly phone calls home days in advance. For the first time in my life, I felt like my mom was the one trying to get me off the phone, rather than the reverse.

To say that I am excited to return home would be a huge understatement. I think that I will probably kiss the ground when I step foot in the airport, squeeze the life out of whoever I first see while hugging them, and have a pit stop at a pizza/burrito/wine serving restaurant. I’ve actually already made a shopping list of things that I’d like waiting for me upon my arrival.

And Finally, A Quick Aside Worth Sharing

I’ve mentioned at least once on my blog about my frustrations related to the dirt road that I take to work everyday. In reality this is probably one of the things I complain about most. It’s not that I didn’t expect dirt roads in India. It’s just that we are in Bangalore, not a village, and this particular road is unpaved for no good reason at all. Virtually every other road around it is paved. Moreover, it gets much muddier when it rains than the average dirt road in Bangalore. I usually have to roll my pants up to my knees and bring an extra pair of shoes to work, and even with these precautionary measures, I end up with mud splatterings all over my clothes and backpack.

Well, for as long as I have been complaining about said muddy road, I have been predicting that the government of India would get around to paving it at precisely the time that I would be departing Bangalore and no longer required to use it on a daily basis.

It was probably around October when I first made this prediction. At the time, this seemed unlikely, considering I learned during a conversation with my landlord that it had been over 7 years that the road had its original pavement removed (God knows why??) and that the local community had been complaining.

Well, sure enough, construction has been underway for the last month to change the piping, sewer system, and wiring that runs underneath the road. And, if my estimates are accurate, they are running on schedule to have the paving done just around the time of my last day of work. Typical…just typical.

More heat than beat in Bangalore

There have been some logistical changes in my life since the last time I blogged, which you should know about and that also lead to an interesting story. I’m sitting here writing this now in complete darkness, surrounded by the sounds of nature, rather then urban India. I’m also sweating profusely and am furiously swatting at mosquitoes, despite the fact that every window in my apartment is closed. All of this would not be occurring if it weren’t for my recent move (or shift as they say in India) to a new apartment.

My roommate finished up here a little earlier than expected, and as a result, I ended up needing to find a new place. Pressured by time and an unwillingness to move outside of walking distance from work , I found a small place that is significantly less luxurious than my last home.
The Raheja Residency, my former apartment complex, was for all intents and purposes a time-share condominium complex. Things were clean and modern and fancy on the outside and in. It had a pool and tennis courts, and most pertinent to my current situation, a backup generator for the many occasions in India when power goes out.

Things at the new place are quite different. I’ll start with the selling points: It’s the top floor of a stand alone house that is set quite far back from the main road, and sits up against a huge open field. Therefore, it’s quite and a welcome oasis from all of the stress and chaos of the rest of the city.

On to downsides; It’s only a bedroom and bathroom, with no kitchen, thus taking away my last shred of freedom from always eating Indian food. It’s also significantly less “modern,” so there are technical difficulties like a leaky toilet tank, an unreliable shower, and as I just found out, a roof that leaks when it rains. In addition, when the power goes out, there is no backup generator, thus my sitting in the dark and extreme heat. I could easily open the windows and let some cooler air in, but that would be like throwing a filet mignon into a pit of hungry alligators. The mosquitoes would simply have a field day. And so here I sit, in my dark, hot, powerless room, next to a field, which is home to billions of mosquitoes. I should also add that my one and only light source that is not reliant on power(a rechargeable lamp) just ran out of juice, so now I only have the light of my computer and cell phone – well, at least until their batteries run out to.

I’m doing this complaining because I have the luxury of knowing that it could be better and easier than it is right now. But in reality, these things that I am struggling to be without for just a few hours are nowhere in sight for millions of people on a daily basis. In fact, as I walked home during the tail-end of the rainstorm that caused this power outage, I passed several make shift homes that were set up on the side walk by the day laborers who are doing construction work nearby. Not only have these people left their families in the peaceful rural country sides to come to the much harsher, difficult city of Bangalore for a chance to earn a better income. But, they have done so without any sort of home or security. So they set up small shelters made of just three sticks that form a triangle and a blue tarp that lies on top of it. They don’t ever have fans to keep them cool, power to provide them light, screens to protect them from mosquitoes, and tonight, they don’t even have a dry floor to sleep on.

So, if you read my woes of one night without electricity, don’t bother feeling bad for me. Instead, think about those less fortunate than myself, and much, much less fortunate than yourself (presuming you have a.c., light, and a home to live in).

On an almost entirely unrelated note, this evening I went to a place for dinner that I recently noticed served what they call a “chicken burger.” I was really anxious to try it, and took a big bite out of it as soon as the plate arrived in front of me. I chewed and swallowed that first big bite, and then thought about the odd texture my tongue had just noticed. So I inspected the burger more closely and found what I believed was completely raw ground chicken meat. I panicked, and wiped my tongue with a napkin to get any remaining residue out of my mouth, in hopes that this would help prevent the inevitability of salmonella poisoning. The waiters came over and asked what was wrong, and I told them that my “chicken burger” wasn’t cooked. They whisked my plate away and said they would make me a new one.

“Chicken Burger” #2 arrived, and I inspected this one without any intention of eating it. This time I noticed that it wasn’t actually raw, but just appeared to be. You see, they had taken the tiniest bit of cooked chicken, blended it into little pieces, and then formed it into a patty shape with a whole bunch of gooey stuff (which I had believed to be raw meet, but was probably blended chickpeas, or lentils, or something equally Indian).

I of course felt terrible about this whole situation. Not only had I mentally spent 20 minutes of my life convinced that I had taken a huge bite of raw, ground chicken, but I also unnecessarily made a fuss about it being uncooked and forced the restaurant to prepare me a new sandwich-thus perpetuating the picky, difficult-to-please, American stereotype. Moral of the story…when in India, its best to stick with Indian food.

And yes, I finished “Chicken Burger” #2.

****UPDATE**** My power returned at around midnight just enough to power my fans half way…

Light Bulbs, Micro-Entrepreneurs, and Solar Panels

Every once in a while things from different areas of my life come together like pieces of a puzzle and form an image that was previously unclear in my mind. Uhh…I guess that’s just what most people call an idea. Well anyway, this aligning of the stars occurred for me recently, and I was excited by my new idea, so that is what I shall share with you in today’s blog entry.
I recently finished reading Muhammad Yunus’ new book “Creating a World Without Poverty.” For those of you who don’t know, Muhammad Yunus is the founder of Grameen Bank in Bangladesh and the winner of the 2006 Nobel Peace Prize. He is also one of my personal inspirations for his undying effort and success in alleviating one of the world’s gravest problem; extreme poverty.

“Creating a World Without Poverty” introduces Professor Yunus’ new concept for bringing about wide scale social change, which he calls the “Social Business.” The idea behind this approach is that a new breed of businesses will be developed that focuses not on achieving maximum profit, but rather on achieving maximum social impact. Because the venture will run on a business model, it will turn a profit, thus enabling it to pay back investors, expand into new areas, and invest in research and development to further advance its mission. Investors in social businesses will be individuals looking to make a difference in the world (much like current day philanthropists), and they will be responsible for holding their companies to strict measures of social performance, seeking not maximum financial returns, but social returns.

Professor Yunus’ created many Social Businesses as part of the Grameen Bank family of companies, but recently launched a new corporation to serve as a model. Known as Grameen Danon, the Social Business is a partnership between Grameen Bank and the Danon Yogurt company. Grameen Danon sets up small-scale factories in rural Bangladesh that produce nutrition-fortified yogurt. It relies on Grameen Bank microfinance customers to distribute the yogurt to poor families, and particularly focus on children, who are the most vulnerable to disease and death caused by malnutrition. Grameen Danon achieves several social objectives: first, it provides healthy food at an extremely low cost to those who are most susceptible to disease caused by malnutrition; second, it provides added business opportunity to Grameen Bank customers, thus allowing them to increase their income; and, third, it creates a great deal of employment opportunities for Bangladesh’s unemployed rural poor through the locally based factories. You can see how the growth of this company can create massive health and livelihood benefits for Bangladesh.

Fast forward a few weeks, and a coworker recommended another book to me: “The High Performance Entrepreneur” by Subroto Bagchi. This book is in many ways a how-to guide and a self-help book rolled into one for people interested in starting their own companies. It gives very concrete instructions on what is needed to build a powerhouse company from the ground up. Everything from required personality traits, to professional an academic competencies of the entrepreneur, to the logistics of capital-raising, and how to form a winning management team are covered.

I’m not usually one to read books on management, and if I do I rarely enjoy them, but the timing must have been right, and this book struck a cord for me. It pointed out the strengths that I already have that are valuable for becoming an entrepreneur, and also gave some tactical steps I can take towards developing other useful skills.

The third piece to the puzzle comes from Ujjivan’s urban slum dwelling customers. They are, in general, the main source of motivation behind my work. I admire their ingenuity and creativity, their ability to beat the odds, and their unwillingness to give up despite the most difficult of conditions.

One of the factors that makes microfinance successful for these women can be found within the name of the movement itself; “micro.” It is the fact that a huge number of women are empowered with small loans, to start their own tiny businesses, that entire cities and countries are able to achieve large-scale social progress.

When I think about these two books and microfinance customers, I see a link that is very applicable to me (and possibly many others). A Social Business does not need to be a large-scale company that impacts the entire world, or even an entire nation, as exemplified by the companies referenced in both of the books. It can also be an opportunity for individuals considering taking the leap and becoming an entrepreneur to start his/her own small business that has a social mission to impact the local community. Just like the hundreds of thousands of microentrpreneurs in countries like Bangladesh and India creating broad social change, a movement of thousands of small Social Businesses could have a real, tangible grass roots impact.

For me this idea is particularly appealing because it allows each individual to pursue something that they are truly passionate about. Through food, art, technology, etc. there are an infinite number of ways to make a difference.

I’ve always loved food and entertainment. Maybe someday I could open a restaurant that provides vocational training to marginalized or at risk individuals by employing them as chefs and waiters. A portion of the meals prepared each day could also be designated to feeding the hungry at a minimal cost. My Dad is passionate about the environment. He’s talked about starting a company that provides job training for homeless people to install solar panels on city buildings. These ideas might not be developed, but they are a start. What’s great is they infuse individual passion, with entrepreneurship and social impact.

So what kind of business are you passionate about starting up in your town or city? How can you shift the way it operates to positively impact the local community or environment?

P.S. If you are interested in reading either of the books that I mentioned, help me out by purchasing them through the Amazon link at the top left of my blog. I get 4% of all your amazon.com purchases made through it, and trust me, that can go a long way in India. Thank you.

The Easter Bunny Visits the Raheja Residency

Holidays have taken a somewhat prominent role on my blog. I feel that I should give Easter the same treatment as Thanksgiving and Christmas, despite it being completely and totally uneventful. If you’re wondering what I did on my Easter Sunday, well – you’re reading it.

It has been quite like any other Sunday. As usual, I’m pretty exhausted from the work week – recall that it is 6 days long – so I slept in this morning after an evening of watching movies and decorating eggs.

My limited search for Easter Egg dye yielded no results, which led me to think of some natural things from around the house that I could use. Lauren’s friend Sabrina went to art school, and I remembered her telling me that turmeric could be used for dying clothing. I thought that maybe other bright-colored spices (like chili) could be used for dying things as well. I was wrong. My test eggs (one each in a turmeric/chili and water mixture) turned out shades of brown, and really just looked like dirty eggs.

I moved on to a different strategy; painting them with acrylic paint. Hopefully the egg shells don’t absorb anything. This method worked out quite well, and I made it through about 6 eggs before I lost interest/ran out of ideas for patterns.

For breakfast this morning, I of course had hard boiled eggs and toast. Then I set off to read and have a cup of coffee at the local coffee shop. As is typical when I am feeling like I am missing out on something (in this case family), I decided to splurge, and bought a chocolate chip muffin to go with my iced coffee. After reading, I did a crossword puzzle – thanks grandma for sending that book out here – and actually finished the whole thing. Okay, okay, the crossword was an easy level (maybe not even a Monday in the New York Times), but it still felt good.

Next, I set off to do a little window shopping at this new mall that popped up not far from my house. As an aside, malls in India are virtually identical to malls in the U.S. It’s kind of surreal. Then, I grabbed some food-court Chinese food – again eerily like its counterpart in the U.S. – and did my weekly grocery shopping.

On the way back to my apartment I stopped at my favorite juice stall. I had a fresh orange juice and spent a few minutes talking with the manager. Despite being Christian, he had to go to work (he works 7 days a week). Many of the AIF Fellows have commented on how a lot of their most meaningful relationships in India are with people that they buy things from. I would say that the same applies for me. In fact, I intentionally and unnecessarily spread my shopping out among different vendors, just so that I can talk with more of people. (I buy Cokes from one vendor, cookies from another, vegetables from another, etc.) So I guess in a way I stopped at the juice man equally because I was thirsty, and because it was Easter and it is nice to see your friends on holidays and wish them well.

After the juice man, I came home and put the paint back to use, only this time on paper. It feels nice to exercise the creative side of my brain, plus it gave me something to do before calling my family later this evening.

I always miss my family when I am away from them, but the feeling is certainly stronger on holidays, their birthdays, etc. It wont be easy leaving India in a few months, but it will certainly be utterly amazing to be with my family, hopefully this time for an extended period.

Things I don't want to forget...

There are a few things that I want to be sure to remember about my time here and since this blog is equally a way for me to keep track of my time in India as it is a way for me to keep in touch with others, I’m going to write about a few random things.

1) Yesterday while driving to one of our branches traffic slowed, and I noticed a crowd had developed on the side of the road. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but felt compelled to take a look at what everyone was gathering around. Sadly, and to my horror, it was a man that had fallen off of his motorcycle. I saw his blood and guts hanging out of his broken skull and immediately felt sick. I was angry that he wasn’t wearing a helmet, and that there wasn’t an ambulance there to help him. Death is so much more visible here and dealt with and processed in a different way. It is difficult for me to understand or get used to death being a part of life. I’ve witnessed it on multiple occasions here in a much more first hand way than ever before. Sadly, I’m learning to just desensitize myself to it.

2) Throughout our AIF orientation, safety was a major topic. There was considerable discussion about remaining safe while in an auto rickshaw. “Don’t stick your arms, legs, butt, or head out of the side of an auto”, “Beware of drunk auto drivers,” they told us.

Well just as taking autos is a fact of life in India, so is occasionally sticking your butt out of the side of one or encountering an inebriated driver. The other night, I was suspicious of my driver’s sobriety, so I asked him to pull over a few seconds after departing. He was confused and trying to get me back in the auto. I asked one of the other guys he was with if they had been drinking and he very soberly said no. My auto driver then caught on and began insisting that he wasn’t drinking. I decided to trust him. The rest of the ride went perfectly. He was probably one of the best and most careful drivers I’ve had. When he dropped me at my apartment he began apologizing and telling me that he would never drink when he was working. I felt, and still feel absolutely terrible for making that assumption. I know that safety is important, and that I did the right thing by being cautious, but its unfortunate that he falls victim to the stereotypes of his fellow auto drivers.

3) Everyone knows that cows are considered holy in India. I’ve learned to embrace this, as they are literally a part of my everyday life. In fact, I’ve grown so comfortable with the cows on the streets of Bangalore that I’ve begun to recognize some of the local ones, and have even established a favorite, who coincidentally is also lucky. That’s right, one of the cows in my neighborhood brings me good luck whenever I see him. I recognize him by his horns, which curve in two different directions (one down and around his ear and the other straight back). It really brightens my day when I see him. Passersby probably notice a change in the beat of my step when my eyes catch a glimpse of him.

4) Related to cows, I recently learned of the many medicinal and household benefits of cow urine and manure. These include face wash, hair conditioner, and a general household cleaning agent for floors and countertops (watch out Mr. Clean). Please note; the cow’s first pee of the morning is much more valuable/nutritious/powerful then the rest, so you better wake up early if you want the good stuff.

Travel and Work Unite in a Single Blog Entry

I find it fitting that at the same time that I have been struggling to move this blog away from its focus on travel and towards work, I made an interesting NGO/development related discovery while traveling last weekend.

My roommate (Max), Sonia (a co-worker), Menaka (one of the other AIF fellows), and I had been wanting to visit Hampi for a while. Hampi is a famous World Heritage Site 8 hours from Bangalore that is known for its temples that date back to the 13th to 15th centuries. We took a day off of work to make a long weekend of the trip and rented a car so that we could experience a road trip in India and have more freedom to explore.

At one time, Hampi was the center of the Vijayanagara Empire, which was defeated by the Moguls, thus leaving its temples in ruins. The village’s main attraction is two large, pyramid-shaped temples. Nearby the temples there is a small market, which caters to tourists, while at the same time seeming relatively untouched. The entire area is surrounded by large, tan and clay colored boulders, and scattered among these boulders are the dozens of temples.

It’s incredible, because you can walk around for hours admiring the remains of the structures and the natural beauty, and never see another person. On the one hand it seems strange that the area isn’t under careful protection, but at the same time it makes it so special to be able to experience it without guards yelling and fences holding you back.

The second day in Hampi, Menaka and I rented bikes and did a tour of the surrounding area on wheels. In total we probably cycled about 15 to 20 miles, and it felt wonderful. Well, the sore ass didn’t feel great, but being active and in such an amazing setting did.

On our bike ride, we took a loop that went through most of the temples. When we would ride past something interesting, we would park our bikes and spend some time walking around, imagining what it must have been like to live there more than 600 years ago.

After a while we made our way to the river that runs by Hampi, and decide to lock up our bikes and take a boat ride across. There is a craft village on the other side of the river that is referenced in some of the guidebooks, and was also recommended to me by Mr. Ghosh (my boss at Ujjvan).

The boat ride is definitely worth describing. The boat was essentially a circular structure about 10 or 12 feet across that was made of weaved bamboo, a tarp, and a coat of tar. I’m not talking about a thickly weaved layer of bamboo. It was more like a loosely put together tangle, that you could see the tarp through. This alone is enough to make me skeptical. Now, imagine that my boat ride across was shared with three motorcycles and 10 people, half of whom had large bundles of wood and other farming supplies. Despite all of this, we made it across just fine.

When we finally made it to the other side, one of the first things we noticed was that there really was nothing to see—or at least not at first site. We were famished from the long bike ride, so our first objective was to find somewhere to eat. We searched around what seemed like the entire town, and came up empty. Not a single restaurant in site. Menaka’s guidebook mentioned that the NGO that organized the artisans, which is called The Kishkinda Trust, served food, so we started asking around for it.

Almost everyone knew where the Kishkinda Trust was located, so we found it pretty quickly. When we walked into the building, there was a young lady working on something with string and beads, and another woman behind a desk working on a computer. When she got off the phone and looked up at as, we awkwardly asked “Umm. Do you have any food.” She seemed un-phased by our odd request, and replied, “Well, I’m sure I can find you something. You came all the way here and I can’t have you leave hungry.” (We later realized that we had stumbled into the NGO and not the restaurant that it started, which is why our request must have been particularly odd).

The woman’s name was Shama Pawar. She asked us what made us come to her NGO, and we said we read about it in the guidebook and my boss had recommended it. She put aside her things, and told us to follow her to her car. We made the quick drive to her home (which was really a quite, and peaceful sanctuary) and she let us into a room to wash up. She proceeded to share her personal lunch with us. I found this gesture incredibly kind. She had never met us and didn’t know anything about us, and yet she shared her meal for one person, with two others, to ensure that none of us would be hungry.

Over lunch she told us all about her NGO, and the holistic approach they are taking to tackling the poverty and stagnant economy in the small village. She moved to the village 12 years ago, and started training local women on how to weave various things out of banana leaf string. They make things like bags, placemats, wall hangings, baskets, etc. The craft slowly gained popularity, and today there are over 200 women who are involved. They sell their goods at a small store that they opened in town, which is popular among tourists.

But Shama didn’t stop with training some local women on a new craft. She believes in addressing the many aspects that are confining and limiting the village’s potential, and doing so in a sustainable way. Over the last 12 years, the NGO has introduced a learning center, library, waste removal system (seemingly unheard of in India), a hostel for visitors, a restaurant, etc. etc. etc.

Shama talked about everything so casually, as if it was no big deal what she had accomplished. Having learned all of this shed new light on my walk around the village earlier that day. I noticed that the streets were clear of trash and the cars were organized. Most people we passed were working and not idling around.

After we finished eating, Shama arranged for us to have a tour of the village and the many projects underway. The man who runs the hotel took us around and gave us a chance to talk with many of the people employed as an outcome of the NGO. What struck me was that although these people were by no means wealthy (maybe just barely in the lower middle class), their jobs were not manual labour, extremely arduous, and personally diminishing. They had achieved a quality of life that was higher than most other people in a similar income bracket in India.

This was in fact, one of the goals Shama had told us she had for the NGO. She spoke to us about the enormity of problems in India (pollution, traffic, disease, over-crowding, etc.), and how she thought not only that it was senseless for these issues to exist, but terrible for people to accept them as part of life. It wasn’t enough for her to just try to solve the village’s problems. She wanted to do so in a way that was environmentally friendly, empowered the population, and did all of these things for the long term.

This concept reminded me a lot of an idea developed by Jeffrey Sachs’, the famous economist who wrote “The End of Poverty.” He discuses the concept of “Millennium Villages,” which are essentially village led development programs, that seek to solve a myriad of problems (health, agriculture, poverty, water, etc.) all within a single village. Sachs’ believes that this can be a very successful model for over coming poverty. It’s basically a micro approach to solving nation-wide problems.

When I first read about this concept it seemed very idealistic. My immediate thoughts went to all of the challenges involved in making a Millennium Village successful: getting the money in the right hands, choosing a village with the right geography, the lack of infrastructure within poor villages, getting educated people to work to bring about the change, etc.

However, when I saw a Millennium Village in action, which is essentially what The Kishkinda Trust had created, I became much less skeptical of Sachs’ idea. I think that what helped Shama to achieve so much, was largely her charismatic personality. She really seemed to command the respect of the villagers. This allowed her to be more effective and efficient. She also had the support (monetary and political) of the government. This is rare in India, but a good example of how a government that is run well can really work to improve the lives of its citizens.

Shama and her NGO reminded me of stories that I’ve heard about Brian and Maria’s (two other fellows) mentor in West Bengal. Their mentor is also a very strong, well-respected leader in the community, who is systematically bringing about change in a variety of ways. Brian and Maria seem to be having one of the most amazing experiences, both personally and professionally. In this light, I will be recommending to AIF to pursue a relationship with The Kishkinda Trust, in hopes that future Service Corps fellows can contribute and learn from the amazing programs in this small village outside of Hampi.

***Note*** The Positive impacts of the NGO even extend to the local monkey population, which seemed to be much more friendly than in other areas of India.

Kerala, Old Friends, and New Friends

Since coming to India I’ve been told dozens of times, from both expats and Indian’s, not to miss a trip to Kerala. This state is located in the South West of the world’s largest peninsula, and is famous for its beautiful beaches and backwater regions in the lowlands, and its gorgeous mountain ranges filled with tea plantations that are further inland. Coming so highly recommended from so many independent and trusted sources convinced me that this would be the perfect place to take Cat, Mel, and Lauren when they made the long journey from Dupont Circle in Washington, DC across the planet, to Koramangala in Bangalore, India.

As you can imagine, their visit was extremely highly anticipated. They were the first familiar faces I would see in over 5 months (web conferences with home excluded). So I went all out in preparing for their journey. I used my lonely planet guidebook to determine an itinerary that would be both relaxing, affordable, and action packed. I also consulted with a local friend of mine, Sajesh, who is originally from Kerala, to ensure that the trip was reasonable in terms of times spent and places visited (more on that—probably the best decision ever—later). I also made a trip to Fabindia (www.fabindia.com), a popular store here that sells nice, traditional clothing and home goods. They source their products from artisans throughout India, so I thought it would be a good place to purchase each of my friends a typical Indian scarf. I’ve learned from experience that a good scarf can be a savior in countless situations. A sheet or pillowcase for train rides, a shield for emergency roadside bathroom breaks, a handkerchief to wipe the sweat off your head, or a mask to cover your face with in the most polluted areas (to name a few). I also asked Erama, our now infamous maid, to prepare my favorite dinner of chickpeas, chapati (flat bread), ochre, and rice. And lastly, I had my coworker Natesh draw a welcome sign in Kannada saying, “Banaglore Welcomes you.”

When they arrived at Bangalore’s airport they were tired, dirty, and hungry from nearly two days of travel, but of course, it was as if we hadn’t skipped a beat. We got back to my place and shared their travel stories coming to India, talked about work and life, and just relaxed over Erama’s delicious meal. It was so nice to hear their laughter, something that seems to be so much less common in this country, particularly coming from women.

The next morning we woke up to fresh Chai that Erama made for us, and rushed off to get started on the day. We first went to do some shopping, so that the girls could attempt to fit in during our travels (as if sticking to 5 ft. 10 blond girls in traditional shirts would make any difference). Mel on the other hand had no problem fitting in. Her skin color and long dark hair can easily blend in throughout Latin America, the Middle East, and North India. The girls first seemed a bit uncomfortable in their new shirts, but would later sing their praises as they realized how cooling, quick drying, and practical they were.

After shopping we went to meet up with my friend Sajesh for lunch. I got to know Sajesh a few months back when he started volunteering to help build our website at work. He’s in his mid 20’s and works for a US based IT company here in Bangalore. He had been telling me for a while that he would help me out with my trip, but I never would have imagined just how much.

Sajesh, got in touch with his friend Dhaneesh, who currently lives in Kerala and asked him to help us with booking hotels, cars, etc. for our trip. Dhaneesh did a lot more than just build an amazing itinerary and get us great deals that, as white foreigners, we would never have been able to get. Without having ever met us, he took off of work for three days, and arranged virtually every second of our trip to ensure that each detail was thought out and every experience would go perfectly. Sajesh told me Dhaneesh would be doing this just a few days before, and when I began thanking him as profusely as I could, he brushed it off as merely “Indian hospitality.”

Knowing that when we arrived in Kerala we would have someone there to help us out made me even more excited for the trip. I knew that this would be a once in a lifetime chance for my friends to see the caring, welcoming, beautiful side of India that is easily hidden to travelers just visiting for a short time.

Of course, we had to get to Kerela to start our vacation, and as is typical of my travels in India, it did not go smoothly. My friends were very weary about the idea of taking a 12-hour overnight bus without a bathroom on it. “Don’t worry, I told them. I did it on the way home from Goa and it was great. We will even have our own beds.” They were vigilant about their eating and drinking habits leading up to the bus ride, making every attempt not to consume something that would come back to haunt them.

Call it bad luck, or just typical of my life, but it was not my friends who needed to worry most. Lying in that damn bed, which was on the top level of a bus that was speeding down bumpy and windy roads, proved to be too much for my motion-sick prone body. Within the first few hours, I could feel it coming on. By around midnight, I made my first frantic dash to the driver pleading for him to pull over. Thank god the sign for vomiting is universal, and this bus driver felt bad enough for me to make an emergency pit stop. There would be several more of these that night, which would result in me arriving weakened, tired, and dehydrated in Alleppey, Kerala.

I must admit that when Dhaneesh called at 5:30 A.M just 15 minutes after we arrived, I was not particularly looking forward to meeting him, or having to get started on the day. In fact, I was perfectly happy just sitting for a few hours on the curb in front of the gas station whose bathroom I had just been very happy to see. Recognizing my fragility, Dhaneesh brought us to a hotel to rest up, and shower before getting started. That was the best couple of hours of lying down I think I’ve ever had.

Refreshed, but still weak, we headed off to pick up freshly caught prawns to have later that night for dinner. Dhaneesh took us to a place that sold them for nearly half the price that we would have paid if we bought them out on the water. They were enormous—more like lobsters than shrimp.

We had some time to kill, so Dhaneesh also took us down a passageway in the backwaters to his cousin’s house. They took us out on a small boat ride, where we caught our first glances of the type of houseboat that we were about to board and stay on for the night. To be honest, I actually thought that the boats we were seeing were much bigger and nicer than the one we would have. It seemed too beautiful and luxurious, both for the price we were paying, and for this point in my life in general.

When our small boat got back to shore, one of Dhaneesh’s cousins had climbed the coconut tree in his front yard and picked us some fresh coconuts. He and Dhaneesh hacked them open and gave us a taste. It was Cat and Lauren’s first time tasting the juice, and they thought it was kind of strange. I generally wish it would be either colder or sweeter, but I sucked as much down as I could, because I’ve heard that the juice perfectly matches the ideal electrolyte content of your body, therefore making it great to have when you are dehydrated and sick.

We parted ways with the first of Dhaneesh’s family members that we would meet over the course of the trip, and headed next to the docking area where our house boat awaited us. Seeing that our houseboat was one of the nicest one’s there, and that it contained two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, dinning room, and an upper deck to lounge on was SWEET. Knowing that Dhaneesh, once again, had arranged it for nearly half the price that we would have been charged if we had tried to get it on our own, made it even better.

I walked on and felt like a famous rap star or hotel chain heir, but better. Unlike the vacation spots of the rich and famous, the backwaters of Alleppey seem so untouched. The water is clean, and surrounded by rice patties. The locals don’t fuss with you, and just go about their lives as if we aren’t part of it at all. There aren’t tourist booths set up along the side, and when you stop and listen, you can enjoy the sounds of nature. Dhaneesh told us that the area is known as “Venice of the East,” but I think Venice should be nicknamed “Alleppey of the West.”

We spent the entire day relaxing and enjoying our surroundings. We got off the boat to taste local liquor made of what else—coconut juice. We also made a stop to trek about a half mile into the rice patties along side the water where Dhaneesh introduced us to more of his family. He pointed out where his parents had gone to school and where he used to play soccer as a child. We were stopped by hoards of little kids who adorably would ask us for “One Pen? One Pen?”

Many foreigners bring pens and pencils to hand out as presents to children that they meet, and this fact must now be ingrained in them to the point where they see white skin and think pen.

Back on the boat we played our first of many Yatze games. I think I have officially gotten Dhaneesh and the girls addicted. Before long, the boat docked for the night in a spot that was perfectly situated to see the sun set over a rice patty and the sunrise over the backwaters. I made sure not to spend too much time behind the camera, so that I could just relax and see the most amazing sunset of my life.

Once the sun was down the boat crew began preparing our delicious fresh prawn dinner. They made some other amazing curries and rice to go along with it, all infused with the favorite local flavor—coconut. By 9:30 we were stuffed to the brim and exhausted from the lack of sleep the night before. We headed straight to bed.

Waking up to catch a breathtaking sunset is so refreshing. It makes up for all the days when it feels so unnatural waking up early to go to work. Our, crew prepared us a delicious breakfast of omelets, toast, jam, and Chai. Within another hour or two we made our way back to the dock, and parted ways with our beloved boat.

Dhaneesh had arranged for a car and driver (Shibu) to be waiting for us at the dock. Shibu was Dhaneesh’s new neighbor. He was recently married and expecting a new baby. At first he was quite and didn’t interact too much with us (which is typical of Indian’s in service sector jobs), but over the course of the trip we won him over, and he began to relax, and maybe even have some fun. Shibu was an absolutely amazing driver. We joked that he could have a very successful and lucrative career racing nascar. In all seriousness, he had complete control over the car, even when speeding down curvy, narrow, and bumpy, mountainside roads. At first we were fearing for our lives, and literally screaming and saying our final prayers as huge trucks would come charging at us around blind corners. Eventually, we learned to trust in Shibu, which probably also coordinated with the time that Shibu was able to relax around us.
Back to the trip.

We headed next to Alappuzha Beach, which is right in the city of Alleppey. Lauren aptly described it as the “New Jersey Shore of the East.” From the sand, to the murky water, to the waves and deteriorating pier, it seriously resembled NJ’s coastline. The main difference is that there were no sunbathers or swimmers. Its not very common in India to use a beach in the way we do in America. Therefore, we didn’t spend too much time there.

We headed off next on a beautiful drive to Thekkady. This is a small city in the mountains on the way to Munnar. The scenery on the way was stunning. It really felt like we were in a tropical rain forest with massive, old trees, giant leaves, bright flowers, and spots of sun shining through. We passed through fields of rubber trees, and cardamom plantations—both part of the local agricultural economy.

We arrived in Thekkady around 4:00 and checked into a nice “guest house.” That term is used pretty loosely, but generally refers to a small hotel that is either part of someone’s home, or small enough that a family living nearby can run it on their own. Dhaneesh’s dad is an ayurvedic doctor (a type of homeopathic medicine) and consults at a clinic that is owned by the man that owned this guesthouse.

So, shortly after arriving, we arranged an ayurvedic massage at his clinic. We each had an hour and a half, full body message followed by steam bath. It felt incredibly relaxing, but was not exactly what we were expecting. First off, it was much closer to naked than I was comfortable with. Also, the technique was different than the only previous message I’ve had. It involved tons of oil (probably a litre or more), and rubbing the body to generate heat. Then they stick you in a wooden box that is completely sealed and locked except for a small hole for your head, and crank up the steam. You literally feel like a turkey basting in the oven with all of the oils melting off your body. 15 minutes later, and a few near blackouts, I was finally released, and given a hand towel to dry off. I laughed because I was sweating so much that there was a puddle of sweat and oil on the floor where I was standing, and the towel was drenched before I wiped off one arm. There was no shower, so I just shoved my greasy body into my clothes and headed to the waiting area where I knew my friends and I would have a good laugh.

While we were getting messaged, Dhaneesh booked us tickets for a traditional Keralan martial arts show. The show started at 6, and it was already 6:15, so with grease stains seeping through our clothes and slick hair, we glided into the auditorium. As gross as I felt, I was happy that we didn’t miss the performance. It made karate and taekwondo look like ballroom dancing. The guys were so fierce and the weapons were so bad ass. They finished by diving through two tiny flaming hoops.

We ended our long day with dinner, and more importantly SHOWERS! When we got back to the guest house, we were once again exhausted, and hit the sack early so we could wake up early the next morning to check out the Periyar Wildlife Sanctuary.

The nice thing about having American’s visit is that they bring things like granola bars so that you can have a quick snack when racing to early morning activities. We got to the animal sanctuary at around 7:00 am, just in time to make the first set of boats that tour you around the lake that is in the center of the preserve. Apparently on normal days it’s common to see a herd of elephants drinking from the lake. On a good day you can even see tigers. It was neither a good day or a normal day, because all that we saw were a few birds, a family of wild boar, and a buffalo, which Dhaneesh referred to as a “wild beef.”

Next up on our action packed itinerary was Munnar. This required another lengthy car ride, under the skillful hands of Shibu. I didn’t think that it was possible, but this ride was even more scenic and breathtaking than the first. We quickly got into the thick of the tea plantation covered mountains that the region is famous for. The tea trees grow almost perpendicular to the mountainside, so they literally look like a blanket as they roll with each nook and cranny of the hills. They are evenly spaced, and tall, skinny trees grow intermittently throughout them. Groups of tea pickers spend their days scaling the mountains and picking the fresh tea leaves with basket contraptions that connect to pruners. I thought it would be the best job ever, but I’m sure they get used to the scenery and appreciate it less over time.

On the way to Munnar we stopped off at several interesting places, including three damns and a lake that is famous for its natural ability to produce echoes. The lakes created by the damns were peaceful sanctuaries in the valleys of the mountains. I had trouble leaving one of them as it was approaching sunset, and there was a slight breeze, and monkeys were swinging in the enormous trees above. It’s hard to imagine a more perfect place on the planet.

That night we were full from so many huge and delicious meals over the past few days so we decided to ask the owners of our guest house to prepare some eggs and toast for us. We also arranged for them to set up a campfire, which they fueled with a mixture of dry wood, plastic water bottles, and some black tar paper. We were careful to stay clear of the smoke, as we sat in the warmth of the fire, ate our dinner, and played a game of Yatze. Back in the room I turned on the TV. and started watching animal planet, but I was destined to have another early night.

Our final morning, we set off early to go for elephant rides at a stand along the roadside that a few guys had set up for tourists. The elephants were really nice, and seemed to be well taken care of. The ride was less bumpy than I expected, and afterwards we got to feed them pineapples.

Which reminds me. During this trip to Kerala I discovered, or rather solidified, my love for a popular Indian snack: Pineapple with chilly pepper and mixed spices sprinkled on top. It’s amazing!

After the elephant ride we stopped at Eravikulam National Park, famous for the Nilgiri Tahr, a type of mountain goat that is only found in this particular mountain range. The goats, tea covered mountain-sides, and appreciation of nature preservation were all highlights of this park.

Afterwards, we said goodbye to Munnar, my favorite place that I have visited in India so far, and started our drive to Cochin. Cochin was our final destination, where we would be catching our overnight train back to Bangalore. It is also the current home place of Dhaneesh and his family. He had called ahead to his parents to request them to prepare us a meal before we left. They really pulled out all the stops. His mom and aunt made a delicious meal with probably 8 or more dishes, each one better then the next. Prawns, fish, clams, vegetables, rice…mmm.

Dhaneesh’s entire family was so warm and welcoming. It is always so amazing entering into a family’s life, even if just for one meal, when it has been a while since seeing your own family.

After dinner, Dhaneesh gave the girls a ride on his motorbike, and we played one final game of Yatze before heading off to the train station. It was a bitter sweet goodbye. On the one hand, we had grown so close with Dhaneesh over the course of the trip that we didn’t want to have to part ways. On the other hand, it was a really exciting moment for me. I realized that out of this trip with some of my best and oldest friends, I would walk away with a new one. It means a lot to me to really connect and build friendships with Indians, because there are so many barriers that can make it difficult to build strong friendships here. I hope that this will have turned over a new leaf, and there will be many more to come.

So overall, the trip was amazing. Sure, we had a rocky start, but it was well worth it. My friends got to experience the side of India that many tourists never see, we visited one of the most stunning places in the country (and the planet), and we all made a very great friend out of it. Plus, you will be happy to know that I slept straight through the entire train ride back to Bangalore without any problems.