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.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
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.
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.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
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.
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.
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