Vietnam

Vietnam:
Today Jade and I woke up and walked to a breakfast café along the river and ate crepes (mine with a scoop of ice cream) and melted in the beautiful sunshine. It has been a few days since I have seen the sun-it has mostly been overcast skies and rain.



A little later, we packed up and got ready for our 2.5 hour boat trip to Vietnam. Carrying my bags is beginning to be a bit of a burden to say the least. I worry that if a gust of wind comes my way, I’ll be knocked over. I certainly was NOT appreciative of the sun while I was hauling all of my belongings to the boat. I was dripping in sweat. Luckily, our boat was a small speed boat that fit our group of 12 and 4 other travelers. I spent the boat ride reading my newest novel, “The Kite Runner,” and looking out the window at the peaceful river and green shores of Cambodia.

Stepping off of the boat and onto the Cambodian immigration site was like stepping onto a slice of paradise! The palm trees rustled in the breeze, as we walked single file on an old, dilapidated dock, hopped down onto a dirt mound and stood for a short moment while our passports were checked and stamped. Then, we took a short 3 minute boat ride in no-man’s-land to get to Vietnam’s border.

At the Vietnam border, everything was going smoothly and I decided to sit on the boat-despite the fact that I was dripping in sweat and continue reading. Before I knew it, I realized that I had read 50 pages, and we were nowhere near getting our passports back. What was the hold up? Apparently, an older American couple who was traveling on our boat (not part of our group) was having trouble. The gentleman, a burly man with a curly mustache had no room on his passport to get it stamped and the Vietnamese border patrol was refusing to let him into the country. Stupidly, the man ripped off his visa to China and told them to stamp his passport in the newly empty space. This just pissed off the men in charge and they wouldn’t budge to allow him or his wife into the country. We had to send one of our diplomats to urge the man to let it go and let us take them back to Cambodia so that they could contact the US Embassy there. After a little coaxing, he came to his senses and apologetically came back to the boat after almost 3 hours! The whole situation kind of made me embarrassed because everyone was just in awe of how stupid this man had been and thought he was insane for thinking that by throwing a fit, he could get his way. I wondered if people thought that he was being “a typical American,” or if I was just being strangely paranoid. Either way, I feel like when you travel to another country, even though you are an individual, you are consequently representing your country. To act like a fool only reflects poorly on the place that you call home.

After dropping off our bags (and after a full day of traveling by boat, sitting in the heat and sweating) we jumped on some motorcycles to head up to a mountain to watch the sunset. It felt refreshing as the wind beat against my face and thrilling as we turned each corner, or dodged another oncoming motorcycle. The sunset did not disappoint either. Con (our tour guide) lead us to this hidden enclave that looked out onto the flooded valley and we watched the sun slip behind the horizon. Talk about peace and serenity!

We are now finally nestled in our next hotel in the middle of a small fishing village. It is quite nice. The decorations are nice and we have a balcony. Tomorrow, we wake up early and spend another full day traveling, this time by bus, to Ho Chi Minh city. I’m in desperate need of a break, of internet, and of a shower.

Ho Chi Minh City: Formally known as Saigon, (and still referred to as Saigon by many) this city is filled with more motorbikes than I’ve ever seen, and overwhelming-overwhelming to cross the street, overwhelming to be unable to trust people, overwhelming in noise, pollution and context. Our first day, one girl almost got her bag snatched by some motorbikers (luckily, she was able to grab it back just in the nick of time) and another man got a lot of money stolen out of his wallet when he tried to pay his cylco. Needless to say, it is not my most favorite city that I’ve visited. It is hard to be in a city where you have to be constantly aware of everything going on around you.

Today was our tour of the Cu Chi Tunnels, and the War Remnants Museum. The Cu Chi Tunnels are a unique architectural structure and a system of tunnels deeply underground with several floors, a labyrinth of intricate winding, and rooms for meeting, sleeping, cooking and preparing for battle. We were given the opportunity to crawl into them, though I was only able to make it about 2 minutes before I had to turn around. It was suffocating, my heart started to race and I suffered from a slight panic attack when I realized how narrow and dark they were. It is incredible that people had to live in these tunnels for years and years during the Vietnam War.

The War Remnants Museum was opened to the public in 1975 and exhibits photographs, tanks, guns and propaganda used during the Vietnam War. It is a means to display the war crimes and the aftermath of the war on the Vietnamese people. One of the most disturbing exhibitions displayed pictures of handicapped children and Agent Orange victims in Ky Chau village, in Ha Tinh Province. Because of their exposure to the chemicals that were dropped during the war, many children were left with shriveled limbs, deformed hands, feet and faces and adults suffered from severe skin lacerations and irritations.

When I was walking through the museum, I couldn’t help but feel guilty and angry at America. In the various genocide and war studies that I have done in the past few years, there has been a broad scale of emotions that I have experienced. It is difficult to explain how it felt to walk through this museum and be a US citizen and know that the war was initiated by my country. When I would stare at photos of young soldiers, I would feel a deep sadness for what they experienced and for their families worrying and terrified at home. But, then I would look at another picture of a soldier holding an innocent Vietnamese family at gunpoint, and feel an outrage. And all of these emotions are mixed with this sort of skepticism of the extremely biased picture that was painted. What about those at home who were participating in anti-war protests and marches? What about those young men who were drafted and forced to go to war, though they had no desire and no belief in the cause of the war?

Hoi An: Delightfully beautiful and quaint, Hoi An captures some of my most favorite memories of this trip. Two highlights: tailored clothes-designed by me and renting bikes to get to the beach. The streets of Hoi An are lined with tailor shops with eager seamstresses willing to make anything that you could ever desire. You can point to a photo of a Gucci jacket in a Vogue magazine, and in a day, own it. It’s absolutely amazing! The women who made some clothes for me must be mentioned…the shop was owned by three sisters who were the size of popsicle sticks, loved Vietnamese soap operas, and could make pants in a mere hour! They each had such lively and memorable personalities.

Little did I know….Vietnam has the most beautiful beaches that I’ve ever seen in my life. White sand, few people, cool breeze, warm ocean water. I hate swimming in the ocean, but it was just too irresistible, and complete heaven.

This portion of the trip is filled with all of my favorite things: good food, good company (a total of 4 surviving ladies!), amazing shopping, and sunshine! What a perfect way to end this adventure.

Halong Bay: Can only be described in pictures…

Cambodia

As a result of the lack of wireless internet on this part of the trip and the inability to blog weekly, I am going to copy and paste an on-going record of the events that have taken place over the past few weeks….

Cambodia:
My impressions of Cambodia are similar-though not wholly comparable to my impression of Uganda; both slowly progressing in the hands of the corrupt, yet with their fair share of things to be proud of. Unlike Uganda, Cambodia’s scenery is spectacular. The fields of shallow waters laced with reeds, tropical greenery, dirt and potholed roads all paint the stunning portrait that one may imagine. The monsoon rain beats upon my hotel window and the wind rattles the building. I sit, alone in my room, a sort of bubble sanctuary from Mother Nature. If I stand and look out of the window, I see the backyards of locals, dirty and poor and see the homes of the vocal rooster and dogs, so insistent that I stay awake. On the other side of my room is the veranda looking out onto the hotel swimming pool. Among the noises of monsoon, I can hear privileged children splashing and laughing, unaware of their surroundings and happy to play.

The past two days have been filled with Angkor Temples and obnoxious dinners shared with foreign travel companions. The tour has proven to be unlike anything that I had expected, actually it has proven to be more like a bad nightmare. A vacation it is not. For the majority, I feel like I am stuck with embarrassing relatives-all difficult to relate to. I’m staying sane through the help of my neutral, laid-back, British roommate Jade. She is a vault that I am able to confide my frustrations in, though I’m holding back many emotions as to prevent myself from seeming snobbish. I’m not a snob though. They are politically incorrect; make cultural/racial slurs and one man, last night, even personally attacked me! The attack, completely side-swept me and caught me off guard. (It referred to my education and he seemed to think that I have no focus in life.) Today, I resisted visiting a fishing village in order to escape and recuperate.



Later…
The last day that we were in Siem Reap, I shopped a bit in town and had a yummy lunch with even better ice cream. Siem Reap was a quiet and quaint little town, which alternates bar, boutique, restaurant and market, down each of the streets. I felt completely at ease getting around and I am also pleased to take the “tuk tuk” rides, because unlike Indian rickshaws, they are plush, wide and much less hectic.

We are now in Phnom Phen, the capital of Cambodia. We flew in yesterday (one of the quickest and most efficient flights I’ve ever been on) and it felt like we were in a whole different world from quiet Siem Reap. Driving via bus from the airport to our riverside hotel, we passed various factories and big buildings. My first impressions were rather negative, but after today, I am feeling much differently. Despite our smelly, crusty hotel, the area that we are staying is quite charming. My room looks right out onto the river-a beautiful view- and down the street are restaurants and bars. At night there is a lively feel and many people can be spotted through clouds of cigarette smoke, sipping cocktails in large lounge chairs.

Cambodians have style. All of the restaurants and boutiques look incredibly trendy and uniquely inviting. Sometimes, I get lost in the Asian textiles and décor while walking along the streets. While I enjoyed Indian shops better, the Cambodians can boast to the swankiest night scenes.

We have dined at two humanitarian restaurants that are affiliated with the NGO called “Friends,” which supports, educates and cares for street kids of Phnom Phen. Both restaurants had former street kids working and training as waiters/waitresses and chefs. The food was fantastic, as was the cause. I am appreciative to be able to see and support this side of Cambodia, even though I am a mere tourist.

This morning we went to the Genocide Memorial Museum (Tuol Sleng Prison) and the Killing Fields. The prison is located in a sub-district of Phnom Penh and covers an area of 600x400 meters. During the Khmer Rouge regime it was enclosed by two folds of corrugated iron sheets, all covered with dense, electrified barbed wire to prevent anyone from escaping the prison. Houses and the four former school buildings were used as administration, interrogation and torture offices. Within the complex, there were several male and female children (from 10-15 years old) who were trained and selected by the Khmer Rouge to work as guards. Most of them started out normal, but were brainwashed and grew to be increasingly cruel and disrespectful towards the prisoners. The prisoners were kept in tiny cells and chained to the concrete walls. The prison had strict regulations which read as follows:

1. You must answer accordingly to my questions. Do not turn them away.
2. Do not try to hide the facts by making pretexts of this and that. You are strictly prohibited to contest me.
3. Do not be a fool for you are a chap who dares to thwart the revolution.
4. You must immediately answer my questions without wasting time to reflect.
5. Do not tell me either about your immoralities or the revolution.
6. While getting lashes or electrification you must not cry at all.
7. Do nothing. Sit still and wait for my orders. If there is no order, keep quiet. When I ask you to do something, you must do it right away.
8. Do not make pretexts about Kampuchea Krom in order to hide your jaw of traitor.
9. If you do not follow all the above rules, you shall get many lashes of electric wire.
10. If you disobey at any point of my regulations you shall get either 10 lashes or 5 shocks.

There was never anyone released from this prison. Those who were not killed in the prison were bused to the Killing Fields and were either hung or shot. Currently, the Killing Fields are used as a memorial site where a building has been constructed to display all of the skulls and bones of the victims. Still to this day, during the rainy season, bones can be found washed up on the dirt paths.

I was faced with a familiar rush of emotions while wandering through the old prisons and looking at photographs, paintings, skulls and bones. It was so similar to the memorial sites that I visited in Rwanda-I felt angry, repulsed, and depressingly sad. Genocide is a concept that completely boggles my mind. It is one thing to kill an enemy, but to brutally torture a relative or friend is something that I will never comprehend. They explain that the people acting in the genocide were young, impressionable and brainwashed; but how does one brainwash a child to act so brutally? I have yet to wrap my finger around the experience to the fullest-I know these emotions are ones that I will revisit in my mind over and over again, and probably not understand my true feelings until much later.

Photos from today...

This morning was filled with sightseeing....we visited the Grand Palace and the Reclining Buddha. All I can say is: wow! They were absolutely spectacular.

Mural paintings along the walls of the Grand Palace

Ceiling of the Grand Palace

Various buildings and statues in the Grand Palace

Me posing in front of another gorgeous mural

The Reclining Buddha....so big a small village could easily fit inside

First Day in Bangkok

Well how do I begin? I’ve already had quite the adventure in Bangkok and I was in the city a mere 5 hours today. I got dropped off at my hotel which was supposedly this extravagant building with gorgeous suites, only to find that my room resembles a run down Motel 6 room, complete with tacky dark wood doors and matching bed frames. I regret not checking into one of the MUCH cheaper hostels, though this will be more convenient, as my tour starts here. However, it has it’s perks…it sits in the heart of China Town and my window overlooks the whole city, which I greatly appreciate.

Instead of being able to enjoy a day poolside, sipping cocktails as intended, the sky was overcast. I decided instead to relax in my room and fell into a deep sleep. I woke up around noon and decided to do something with myself considering I was, after all, in Bangkok. I got ready to a shower with water beating down on me like no water pressure I’ve ever known, brushed my teeth, ate a small snack and headed out into the world.

I discovered that the few places that I was planning on sightseeing were closing too soon, so instead I took Sonali’s recommendation and hit up a shopping center. The receptionist recommended MBK which is essentially a gigantic mall, much like you would see in New York. One side of the mall has more knock-off designer merchandise than I could handle. Unfortunately, this was the side that I spent most of my time in, unknowing of the other ritzier side. After tiring of fake Chanel purses and D&G sunglasses, I decided to get a bus home. (Much cheaper than an overpriced taxi). Little did I know that when I stepped outside, I would discover “THE OTHER SIDE.” I had to go in to look and see what they had to offer, which included a Steve Madden, MAC, Lucky Brand and The North Face store. All incredibly expensive and made me wish that I was rich. I also wandered through the home décor shops. This is where I spent most of my time in Delhi when I would go shopping, ogling over gorgeous textiles and furniture. However, Bangkok décor just isn’t my thing. It is a little too edgy, modern and sleek. Nothing looks or feels comfortable. Still, it was fun to look.

By the time I left, it was dark and I realized that everything (of course) looks different in the dark. Finding a bus was the easy part, but getting to my hotel was a bit of a disaster. After realizing that I totally did not have my bearings of the city after one afternoon, and looking hopeless I’m sure, I decided to ask for help. The woman next to me told me when to get off, but when I stepped off of the bus, nothing looked familiar. So, naturally, I go into subtle panic mode. You know, the feeling like, “oh shit, I’m in Bangkok and don’t know where the hell I am, and I’m probably going to get murdered and no one will be the wiser,” followed by quick paced walking and consistent looking behind the shoulder. After wandering a bit and still feeling lost, I asked woman cooking some smelly thing on the street. She points, I nod and follow her directions. Still no sign of my hotel. So after about five minutes, I ask another gentlemen who looks like a security guard. He points, I nod and follow his directions. Still no sign of my hotel. Instead, I’ve been walking for about 20 minutes (after getting off of the bus) through garbage and past scary dark alleys. Finally, I recognized the large bucket of artificial KFC chicken that I can see out of my hotel window and let out a sigh of relief. Home sweet home at last. The Grand Ville Hotel never looked so good. Now, I have to be honest, everyone that I talked to was very kind, no one was particularly scary and I was probably over-reacting a bit. But it just gives me the heebie jeebs to be wandering in an unknown city at night. I’ve decided that tomorrow I’m going to get an early start on my sightseeing adventure as to avoid nightfall.

Time for a dinner of pad thai….
Peace!

Jim Corbett Tiger Reserve

Well, here’s how it goes…

This past weekend, Gretta Spendlove (Jonny’s mom) took me under her wing as one of her own and treated me to a weekend getaway with the Spendloves. After my gloomy farewell to the students (who all demanded that I come back to India soon), we went home to pack and tie up loose ends at the apartment. Nancy left for Vietnam and we left for the Old Delhi train station.

Around week 2 in Delhi, we were overly-eager and brave and traveled to Varanasi by non-A/C sleeper train (as avid blog readers might remember). It is incredible how less-affected I was by the whole system and the “train station scene” this time around. Instead of being highly offended by the smells, I remembered to bring a cloth to filter my breaths. Instead of being shocked by the number of people crowded in such a small space-mulling around, begging, sleeping on cement-I became aware that I was one of them. Instead of being baffled by the lack of logic of the station (which proved apparent when we got completely turned around when attempting to find our out-of-order car) I laughed while jogging alongside the train, hoping that it wouldn’t take off without us.

In fact, the train did not take off without us. As we heaved our tired and confused bodies onto the correct train car, the locals/more experienced train goers laughed at our inexperience and sweat. The second that I saw my home sweet home (a bunk squished between two others and lined with a thick, sticky, plastic covering) I sighed in relief. Unlike our first train experience, this train ride would be coupled with air conditioning and sheets for the beds. Also unlike our first train experience, it was a mere 6 hours instead of 16 hours long. This would be a breeze. But then I looked over at Gretta. I think that she was a bit in shock and certainly not aware of what she was getting herself into.

See, the train is a much cheaper way to travel through India. Sure, there are quicker and arguably more convenient flights to take, but they seriously lack the authentic Indian train experience. Little did poor Gretta know that we would be stuffed like sardines onto this grimy train (which to us, after our non-A/C trip to Varanasi looked like the freaking Ritz Carleton) and little did I know of poor Gretta’s claustrophobia. After arranging ourselves on the bunks and making sure she had enough to read, and enough light, I fell asleep. However, she woke up at three in the morning, and had to move out of the bunk to where there was more space. I felt bad and realized that there were some details that we had entirely overlooked. I also felt bad because it made me realize what an experienced and easy-going traveler I have become. (a personal positive attribute recognized at another's expense is somewhat unfortunate.) Regardless, Gretta surprised me with her optimism and said that it sure was an adventure she normally wouldn't have embarked on, but a fun one at that!

After 6 sleepless/sleep-filled hours, we made it to our final destination: Ramenegar, a state in India bordering Nepal, China and Tibet and home to the Jim Corbett Tiger Reserve. I had no idea what to expect for the weekend, I was just coming along for the ride because the Spendloves so graciously invited me. Little did I know the adventures that were in store for me.

We checked into our resort-The Corbett Hideaway and were delighted by its rustic and Club Med-style charm. Clearly, this was going to be a weekend unlike our previous weekend excursions spent in cheap hostels with bug-filled rooms and a single bed to share among four. First thing was first with Gretta: setting up the itinerary. Where Gretta lacked in train-eagerness, she makes up for it in vacation-eagerness. “You don’t relax on a vacation, relaxing is for when you get home,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. Hm….a little different philosophy than what I have been brought up with.

Day one: tiger safari. The much anticipated tiger safari turned out to be nothing what we had expected. Unfortunately, we didn’t get to see any animals to write home about. There were numerous herds of deer (and those who know me well know how un-thrilled I was about that), a bunny, a tortoise and lots of birds. No elephants and no tigers (despite the numerous footprints that we saw). Despite that disappointment, we were pleasantly surprised by the affects of the Indian jungle. It certainly was fun listening for warning sounds that a tiger or leopard was near, searching for wildlife and enjoying the fresh air and nature.

Day two: river rafting and elephant joyride. River rafting was my most favorite part of the weekend. I’d never been before and I have to say, I’m totally hooked now. We causally drifted along the Cosi River, occasionally hitting some exhilarating rapids that splashed over our raft. The weather was beautiful and I was able to get some sun on my shoulders. Towards the end of the trip, our guide let us jump out and swim in the river. It felt so good to swim-my first time this summer! I relaxed and let the currents carry me a little ways before swimming back to calmer waters. The sand felt thick under my feet and the whole experience reminded me of Walloon Lake. Later, when we got back to the resort, we rung out our soaking wet clothes and got ready for our elephant joyride. I was hesitant to join, but Gretta was eager to have us all involved. Our elephant was a 40 year old female named Latchme. She took us on a little safari of her own through some forest brush. It was a different experience to travel on an elephant and I felt so sad when our guide would whack her with his metal pole. I will even go as far to say that it rightly pissed me off.

Day three: stuck inside most of the day due to monsoon downpour, then a nature walk. We slept most of the day during the monsoon, I finished reading Water For Elephants (a story about the circus), and then went on an hour long nature walk. Our guide nonchalantly mentioned the likeliness of seeing a tiger on our way, which agitated Jenny and I-especially when we realized we had nothing to protect us if an encounter did occur. Luckily, there was no such encounter. It was our fourth excursion into the wild, and I have to say, I was ready to get back to Delhi-as I can only take so much nature in one weekend (a true city girl at heart.)

I left The Corbett Hideaway feeling like I had experienced a weekend of relaxation and rejuvenation (despite the constant activities). I’m happy to say that I am now completely pumped to experience the final leg of my four month journey.

Last night, I said my goodbyes to the Spendloves at the airport and we went our separate ways. I was thankful of the efficiency of the new Delhi airport, there were no major issues whatsoever and I’m now safely in Bangkok sitting in my room at the Grand Ville Hotel. I’ve been greatly disappointed by the weather-I was really hoping to spend my entire time in Bangkok enjoying the pool and sipping cocktails, however the gray skies have tampered with these plans. So, it looks like I will in fact be sightseeing after all.

Stay tuned for more on Bangkok….
Peace!

Okay, let's be honest...this summer has been amazing!

Some of my favorite photos from the last few weeks....it's been a while since I've posted pictures!

Silly Interns in the rickshaw!


Me, Nancy and Vijay doing yoga


Student's Dance Class


Group discussion at the UNAIDS Conference


Looking professional at the UNAIDS Conference


The Whole Gang! (and the dogs)

Last Day of Work

It is that time of summer-time for the final goodbye to the wonderful Maitri Team. It is my last, bittersweet day of work today and I am astonished at how much I have changed this summer, and I know that I won’t realize the depth of change until I’ve arrived in Salt Lake City and get back to “real life.” Already though, I have started to notice my life blending into the Indian way-of-life. No longer am I blatantly aware of the poverty and living conditions of my neighbors or those who come to beg at my car window. I no longer register that I am on the streets of Delhi; rather it seems to be the streets of a place called home. Everything is strikingly familiar, and yet, so temporary to me. I leave on Tuesday, and won’t be waking up to the racket of the pigeons outside of my bedroom window. I won’t be squishing into the tiny, antique rickshaw that inches me through Delhi pollution and traffic to get to work. I won’t be blasted with the most blissful wall of air conditioning as I walk through the doors of the Maitri office. I won’t be greeted in the high pitch, whining voices of the students “GOODMORNINGMA’AM”. Nope. Instead, at this time next week, I’ll be somewhere unknown again-somewhere that I become blatantly familiar of each new thing, and where I feel like an outsider looking in. My routine is going to shift drastically, and instead of focusing on work-related issues, and becoming accustomed to new living conditions, I will be sightseeing as a bona fide tourist. Upon arrival from Africa I experienced reverse culture shock, and similarly I worry that I will go through the same feelings. Only, instead of being in the comfort of my home, I will be among strangers and on the road (or in the sky, or in a river). So, how will I cope with reverse culture shock while simultaneously coping with regular culture shock?

What an amazing experience this has been! This India place sure is intoxicating. I caught glimpses of my love for India throughout the trip. Sometimes, the glimpse even lasted a couple days, or a week. But you never realize the extent to which you love something until you don’t have it. And I am realizing, while packing up all of my belongings and wrapping goodbye presents, that this is one of those places that I’m going to reminisce forever.

Stay tuned folks for another country another day!
Peace.

HIV Workshop at the Modern School

This morning, we woke up really early, and went to this beautiful school to conduct our last HIV workshop-this one focusing on drug and substance abuse. The group was about 30 students in "class 12" who were participatory and eager to answer our questions. The workshop began with a brief summary of HIV/AIDS, then we talked about discrimination and stigma. The students brainstormed adjectives for how they feel when they are accepted in a group and when they are discriminated against. We explained that people who are HIV positive often deal with discrimination on a daily basis. Then, we discussed how to balance power and fight stigma. The students had encouraging responses, such as, "treat others the way you want to be treated" and "become educated and aware of HIV." After a brief skit about a girl who became HIV positive after having unprotected sex when she was drunk, I transitioned into drug awareness, ways to talk about drugs with your family and friends and ways to say no. The students seemed to have a strong grasp on the subject matter. Even though they said that they didn't encounter pressure to do drugs, they made it apparent that it was an issue that other students at their school face and that they would likely face if they went to college. I always get a sense of gratification after the workshops. If I helped keep one student drug free today, it was a success. If they can remember one message about discrimination that was discussed today, it was a success.

Also, some promising news on the dance show....it looks like it will possibly be happening on Wednesday! Blog readers: KEEP YOUR FINGERS CROSSED FOR ME!!!

Yesterday was our last day with Winnie and the General. They left for the USA last night so they had us over for a delicious, mouth-watering lunch. I will truly miss the tomato paste paneer. It is my most favorite Indian dish, with such a savory medley of sweet and creamy flavors. The squares of cheese squish between your teeth with an almost squeaky sensation. This other dish, which resembles white chunky lumps, has been slowly growing on me as well. From what I can tell, it is chick peas mixed with sour cream and something else to make it rather watery. Dripping this on top of red beans and rice is such a lovely combination of tang. Then, it must be mentioned...the vanilla ice cream (unlike any vanilla I've ever tasted, a heavenly, out of this world delight) and mango dessert is truly a scrumtrulescent highlight of the meal. I will definitely miss Winnie and the General's powerful presence in the office. They are the most kind and generous people, yet without words, they demand respect in a way that is unmatched. I've never felt so welcome and comfortable and yet simultaneously on the tip of my toes and uneasy in my life.

I can tell that I am getting anxious for the next leg of my journey. I received the documentation and travel itinerary yesterday and last night, I couldn't sleep because I was so wound up thinking about how much room I will have in my suitcase, and what I need to bring. There is so much to think about! This part of the trip has been poorly planned, likely because it is at the very end and because I figured it would all be taken care of through the tour agency that I'm going with. But after reviewing the information, I'm realizing that I need to focus on what is in my near future....Bangkok, Cambodia and Vietnam.

And, I'm homesick. Terribly homesick and tired of traveling. My whole body is tired and I am yearning for the comforts of home. I know that I just need to buck up because I will look back and think of this trip as one of the best experiences of my life. However, at this point in the summer, going on a trip where I'm traveling somewhere new every day and sightseeing from sunup to sundown sounds like death. I'm just ready to sleep in my own big bed, see my beautiful dog and eat a burger. Enough of this vegetarian shit.

Peace.

No title.

It is the second to last week here and we are still working on the dance performance…hoping, somewhat in vain, that the show will happen, though at this point I’m highly doubting it. I need to think optimistically though. It is amazing the way that things are pulled off here!

We have also been asked to compile a couple of reports for the OMAXE project. One on health concerns such as health equity, and another on social capital. Working with these interns has been extremely efficient. We are able to divvy up work and finish whole reports in a matter of hours! If only I was able carry them with me for the rest of my life!

I’ve been thoroughly enjoying the Tata Sky lately. For those of you who are not aware of what Tata Sky is, it is basically direct TV, only with far fewer English channels. When I’m not at work, I’m letting my mind go to waste in front of the tube watching nonsense. And just a note on the commercials-because it must be said…horrifying does not begin to describe them. This month is “Shivers and Shakes” month, so they are featuring scary movies every evening. In the USA, previews to scary movies can be eerie and give you the gist of the movie. Here though, they show the most disgusting, bloody, violently shocking moments in the movie! There really is no point in watching the movie after you have been forced to watch the vampire rip out a bloody heart and lick the blood about a dozen times each time the commercial airs. If you switch the channel, it is likely that you will see a commercial with a “To Be Continued….” I’m not kidding, they actually leave you in suspense. Will the sexy man find his dream girl radiating of Oil of Olay soft pink shimmer moisturizer? Talk about advertising!

Finally, I must voice my pathetic little frustrations with our cook. I have transformed. I used to be completely uncomfortable with the idea of hired help, which sounds bizarre, since I have worked as a house cleaner and a nanny. But at my age, I never dreamed that I would hire help. I mean hello! I’m 22! However, I no longer feel the need to sympathize with my cook. In fact, I wanted to scream at her yesterday.

First of all, we found out the other day that she is completely overpaid. It’s okay because she speaks broken-English and makes a damn fine meal. Still, I am get slightly irritated at this news. Then, when we ask her to start making lunches (because they stopped bringing lunch to the office for us) she pouts. Pouts and complains! Even though it is her job, and we give her mornings and weekends off, she pouts! Then, we all got sick because of some potatoes that she cooked. When confronted, instead of accepting the blame, she made excuses and suggested that it was something else that we ate. She is the only person that cooks for us! We weren’t even mad or rude; we just wanted her to cook the potatoes longer and at a higher heat! Finally, last night was the kicker… I was in a deep sleep and feeling under-the-weather, and she comes waltzing into my room and wakes me up to come eat dinner. I tell her I’m sleeping, and she continues to wake me up. I tell her I’m still sleeping, and she continues to wake me up. I tell her that I AM STILL SLEEPING, and she CONTINUES TO WAKE ME UP! Ooohhhh I was so bugged! Is it too much to ask not to be forced to eat? Is it too much to ask to be left alone when I’m face down in a pillow?

What is my deal?! Am I allowed to get frustrated? I think the difficult thing, is that Winnie and Sonal make it quite clear that our cook is completely pampered by us. It is hard to be stuck in a triangle between us (unknowing foreigners), our pouting cook, and our bosses who are in disbelief by her overly-ideal situation. I think back to when I was a house cleaner, or a nanny, and if my bosses asked me to do something, I would, of course do it! No pouting involved! It’s a job! It’s what you get paid to do! It’s what you are hired for!

Okay, enough venting.
Breath.

TGIF

It’s finally Friday! What a week! The kids have got me tired out! We have had 2.5 hour rehearsals every day this week and that means a whole lot of yelling and organizing while they run around like hooligans. But, the week is over and now relaxation can begin.

Vijay came over last night and taught us about chakras and meditation. I was in the mood for some asanas, but I think the theory behind the chakras are pretty fascinating. Each "zone" in your body has a specific chakra color and when you do the "om" chanting, it is supposed to cause vibrations in three different body zones. This is why chanting the "om" is so good for your health. Interesting! After the lecture, Vijay negotiated with Nancy to buy her laptop off of her, and I thought about food.

I only have two more weeks of work, which is a strange feeling. I feel like there is still so much that we can accomplish. For example, I would really like to make it over to the vocational school to hold a workshop with the women for the campaign. I’ve talked with the kids about the campaign, so I hope that they understand the concept behind the dance show, but that’s not enough.

I’m a little nervous about traveling after this internship. Mostly worried about my luggage situation (I feel like I have way too much that I am bringing with me, and I’m not sure how to downsize) but also nervous about the people that I’ll be traveling with. I have no idea who these people are and I’m going to be spending 20 days with them! I guess this is how I always feel before departing on a new journey though.

Nothing more to say.
Peace.

The Show Must Go On

We have started yoga at the office. Every morning for 15 minutes, we stretch and meditate with Vijay amidst the dogs. Surprisingly, it actually wakes me up and energizes me for the day. Energy is definitely something that I have been in need of lately. I’m on a strict schedule these days with yoga, Pilates, LSAT preparations and applying to jobs and walking downstairs for my daily popsicle. I don’t know how I’m fitting in dinner!

Yesterday, work had me completely pooped! I taught approximately a zillion kids dance for 2.5 hours. My voice was hoarse from yelling directions and my body was damp with sweat. By the end of the day, I felt like ripping out my hair. However, I’ve been informed that the dance performance will definitely be happening either: this Friday, next Friday, or the Friday after that. Sigh. Either way, the kids are working hard and have learned all of the choreography. It’s pretty impressive and I’m proud of them. I’m getting anxious to see how they perform and who attends the show. It will be held at a local school, so I wonder if Maitri will be inviting other community representatives. I don’t want to make a complete fool out of myself if they just get up on stage and act goofy. (This is definitely a possibility) And I’m afraid that with the language barrier, I won’t be able to demonstrate how serious this is. It is definitely a chance for them to have fun, but they need to understand the vision behind the show.

That’s all for now. Peace.

Om.

This weekend was a chance to escape the hustle and bustle of our busy week. The most noteworthy thing that I accomplished was some studying for the LSAT. I have decided that I’m going to concentrate on this thing that I want, and approach it with a positive attitude (channeling The Secret) and will work my tail off until I’m satisfied with the results. Unfortunately, this “thing” is the LSAT, which just might be the most difficult thing in the world to study while I’m in beautiful, exotic, enticing India. Regardless, it is the only immediate solution to the stress that I have been feeling about “THE FUTURE”…that dreaded thing that is looming in the very near distance and haunting me constantly. I shouldn’t be worried about it while I’m here. I can hear Colin telling me that I shouldn’t worry so much, that I can’t really do anything about it now, that I need to chill. But, to be quite frank, it takes a lot of energy to chill right now. I keep thinking that I have time, but really, "real life" starts in a mere six weeks. I feel like I’m spiraling out of control.

Another solution to the whirlwind, besides studying for the LSAT: yoga. We have started a full time yoga-thon with our personal yogi, Vijay. We’ve kicked it into high gear folks, and have been practicing yoga daily from 1-3 hours, complete with stretches, breathing, visualization and "oooommms." Yesterday, we had our first meditation lesson. As I was escaping to the “dark place” behind my forehead and letting go of everything, but simultaneously becoming aware of everything, my body was tingling. I was carrying myself through the universe, visualizing the stars, and landed on my family’s dock at Walloon Lake looking up to the midnight galaxy; only the galaxy was being harnessed within my skull. About a half an hour later (which felt like three hours), I was snapped back into the dirty and bug filled carpet in the living room in my apartment. Vijay explained that women have an easier time channeling our spiritual “one-ness” because we are connected to the cosmic mother. Women are noble, which is why we have been given the ability give birth. Okay, I can buy it.

Vijay isn’t messing around…unless he is. And if he is messing around, it involves us sitting around in our bedroom listening to Timberland. He’s quite the hip little yogi. SO, in conclusion, I’m actually really getting “into” this whole yoga thing. It is finally clicking with me…my long hiatus from a religion/spiritual connection may just be ending.

Peace.

UNAIDS Conference (and a little slice of inspiration)

This afternoon, we were shuttled from work to the Press Room for lunch. The Press Room is a "old boys" style club for all of the people who work for the press and it hasn’t changed since it was first installed. The walls are deep wooden planks, shellacked with shine and held together with grease and sweat. The chairs are plastic picnic chairs with a thin layer of dust and the flies buzz in and out of dishes. Even the waiters are institutions. We scarfed down some mediocre fried food and were hurried to the UNDP compound for the UNAIDS conference.

I was feeling anxious all day, unsure of what to expect. I envisioned a modern board room with no character and men in expensive suits casually talking about the AIDS crisis in India over chai. Instead, the room resembled an elementary school classroom, with green carpet and florescent lighting. There were five tables set up in no particular formation and AIDS Competence Posters taped to the wall in a crooked fashion. The attendants were dressed semi-formally and resembled regular Joe Shmoes. Instead, I would later find out that they were nothing but ordinary, instead they were Country Directors and CEOs. The purpose of the conference was to present the model of The Constellation for AIDS Competence. It calls for a social vaccine in lieu of a biological solution. The battle of HIV is not decided in health sectors like other illnesses such as smallpox. It is decided in bedrooms and people's private lives. We cannot control AIDS; maybe to ourselves, but not to others. Instead, there is a need for facilitation for local ownership. In other words, there needs to be an openness in communities to communicate how they can measure their own behaviors, change and move on, while eliminating discrimination.

The second portion of the conference was a demonstration to a self assessment tool. The purpose of the self assessment was to evaluate where you are individually and as an organization and where you want to be. To demonstrate the importance of including the whole community in this exercise, the Country Director of UNAIDS said, “If we don’t include the whole community, then we are dreaming by ourselves and we can create a nightmare.” There needs to be a moment of introspection when you realize that you are on a rotating plane and regularly assess where you are, and how you can make improvements, not only for yourself, but for the whole.

I walk away from the conference with this sense of hopefulness and urgency to continue and complete my goals for this internship. Though it is likely that I won’t get everything done in the way that I had envisioned, there is no reason not to try my darnedest to be heard, and to get the messages that I believe out into the community. So, from this point on, I plan to implement my campaign. I will put on the dance performance, whether it is on a stage or in the classroom. It will happen because I will make it happen. “What is not discussed does not exist,” so I will discuss and I will act and I will change.

Peace.

A "Little Miss Sunshine" Moment to Remember

Yesterday was the inauguration of the OMAXE Construction project. There was a surprisingly full turn-out. I say surprisingly, because the invitations were sent out two days in advance in a typical Indian fashion. Nonetheless, there was plenty of support from various NGOs around Delhi, including UNAIDS, UNDP, NACO and Act on Aid. We were in charge of presenting flowers to some of the most distinguished guest speakers, taking photos and registering guests. The program was short and sweet, and concluded with cake and chai.

Afterwards, the interns piled into a little white stick-shift and were off....so we thought. Little did we know, that what seemed like a well running hunk of metal, was actually a broken down piece of shit. Now, I kid you not...the car stalled LITERALLY every 2-5 minutes. We had to get out (in Delhi traffic, sticky heat, and dressed in heels) to push with all our might (Little Miss Sunshine style) until the car was started, run to catch up, and jump in. It was by far, the funniest thing that I have experienced this summer-maybe ever. We had cars honking and people gawking at the crazy white kids trying to get their piece of crap car to start. Of all the wild things that I've witnessed in India, this was my one moment to be the "show." If only I had a video.

Tomorrow is the International UNAIDS Conference, which we have been invited to. (eek!) This is truly a once in a lifetime experience. We will be in charge of registration again and keeping the meeting minutes. Look forward to a blog update soon!

Peace!

Haryana Police Project, Sex & the City, etc.

After opting out of a trip to Amritsar to stay home and relax, our weekend was anything but relaxing. On Friday night, some friends took us out for dinner and drinks at this big fancy shmancy mall and I was able to enjoy my first sips of Indian alcohol. The restaurant was decorated in Irish pub/sports club decor, played obnoxiously noisy early 90's hits from the United States and served delicious Indian cuisine. After dinner, when we tired of yelling over the tunes, we decided to catch a movie as it was still early (a mere 10:00) So, I finally got to see the much anticipated Sex & the City movie. While I have my own little critiques (that only a true fan could notice) overall, I was completely satisfied. After being stuck in awful traffic on our journey home, we didn't crawl into bed until 2:30am. These Indians sure know how to have a good time!

Saturday, we returned to the fancy shmancy mall. After watching Sex & the City, a girl just NEEDS to go shopping. Watching the women of walk around New York in their fantastic clothes and shop like there is no tomorrow was like dangling cocaine in front of a recovering addict. I justified my purchases by reasoning that since we didn't go to Amritsar (which would have been a pricey journey), I was allotted a certain amount of spending money for the weekend. What can I say, shopping is in my genes. No way around it!

Our yogi (Vijay) arrived on Saturday night to teach us private yoga lessons. He is coming to our house to teach us yoga 4 times a week because “he has A LOT to teach us.” Hopefully by the end of this summer I’ll be a flexible little yoga master, filled with the knowledge of mind and body unity. Perhaps this will be my pathway to enlightenment. The principals of yoga make sense to me; becoming one with your body and spirit simultaneously to reach a personal nirvana. It is like an extension of the connections and awareness to my body that I made through dance.

Sunday, we finally made it to Old Delhi. Unfortunately for us (fortunately for my wallet) all of the shops that came highly recommended were closed! Instead, we visited the Red Fort (which was the center of Mugal power in Delhi). As much as I love forts (which is about as much as I love dirty dishes and cockroaches), I was ready to go home and take a nap when the sightseeing was over. Little did I know, the day was just beginning....

Sunday evening we watched the Wimbledon Championship for five hours (including two breaks for bad weather)which I must say was just phenomenal. First of all, the match itself was one of the most intense matches I've ever witnessed. Now, let’s be honest, I haven’t watched too many tennis matches in my life, but I’m certainly going to start. It is such a fast paced sport, with such athleticism and sportsmanship. I felt like I was watching a fast paced basketball game (one of my all time favorite sports), minus the jock jams. Second of all, Nadal is such a sweet little piece of meat, I just wanted to break off a piece of his behind and eat it with a scoop of ice cream. We were up until 2:00am (AGAIN), drooling/at the edge of our seats until Nadal rocked it and took home the cup. The underdog pulled through in the end, breaking the record for the first person to win both the French Open and Wimbledon in one year, and blocking Federer’s chance of holding the record for six straight Wimbledon wins.

Yesterday was rather frustrating and hectic. We woke up early and eager, dressed in our classy suits and headed to the office an hour earlier than usual to head to Haryana for a workshop with a the Police Academy. We got to the office, and no one was around and our excitement started to fade. Apparently, we were supposed to get picked up at our apartment (though no one informed us). Then, once we were picked up at the office, we were told that we were supposed to bring a video camera (though no one informed us). So, we had to go back to our apartment to get the camera. Then, once we got to Haryana we were told that we should have downloaded what was on the camera onto our computer so that there was more space (though no one informed us). And finally, at the end of the day, after hours of sitting through workshops conducted completely in Hindi, we were told that we should have been taking notes (on what, I’m not entirely sure). All we wanted to do was go back home and crash, but instead we stopped for dinner on the way home. (One of the most bizarre dinners I’ve ever had-not because of the food, but because of the conversation, which basically consisted of Sanjay telling us about maggot and mosquito protein.)

What should have been a 2.5 hour drive became twice that long and involved even more stress when we drove by a shocking accident where two bicyclists had been hit by a truck and were sprawled out on the pavement dead. They were the first dead bodies that I have ever seen and it was almost theatrical how everyone just stood around looking, but not reacting to the tragedy. The traffic was so congested, it was apparent that there was no hope of an ambulance making it to the scene anytime soon, if at all. The thing is, as I gaped at the dead bodies, I couldn’t connect that they were dead. That their families were probably waiting at home for them. That they had a life. That their life was over. I just couldn’t fathom it. And even now, a day later, I’m still shocked at what I saw. No one did anything. No one even moved their bodies out of the road. Should I have cried? Should I cry? Should I have demanded that we stop the car and check their pulse? Check to see if we could have helped? It is a helpless situation and apparently just everyday life here on an Indian highway. And life just goes on as usual.

Peace.

The ups and downs

This has been a strange week at work. Mornings are dreadfully slow and afternoons are filled with long and productive meetings for the new OMAXE Construction project. We are designing a pilot healthcare program with a strong emphasis on HIV, STIs and TB. It is a unique experience to be included in the creation stage. We will be working with the unskilled laborers who are a migrant community and often use sex workers and drugs. This makes them a high risk population for health problems. The plan is to create a survey and interview the workers to determine what their priorities are and what they are actually at risk for. The project proposal date is sometime next week and then we are kicking it off next Thursday I believe.

The irritating part of this is that it has completely cut into the teaching program and consequently, the dance performance that I was supposed to be planning for Friday. Because the meetings for OMAXE take place in the afternoons, school has been cancelled for the week. While I understand that this has a higher priority, it is hard to cope with the sudden change of schedule when I had such a busy and special week scheduled for the kids. Also, tomorrow is Maitri’s Founders Day and I’m a little bummed that we aren’t going to be able to celebrate it with the children’s dance performance. And yes, this also means that the Human Rights Campaign that I have been looking forward to will also be postponed. C’est la vie.

Regardless, I predict that the program is going to be quite successful. Our team consists of the Maitri staff, statistical experts, as well as the OMAXE management so there are a lot of great minds coming together with varied perspectives. I get to feel all grown up sitting around a conference table, taking notes and contributing to the brainstorming and planning process.

More later. Peace.

The Golden Triange

I'm a model...you know what I mean....

Monday, we got home from a busy weekend traveling the Golden Triangle. I bought an obnoxious amount of shoes in Jaipur, we visited the Amber Fort (which I appreciated for it’s views and architecture, but was put to sleep by the history lecture. I decided to pretend to be a supermodel and take portraits with Nancy against the cracked, colorful walls instead.), the Hawa Mahal (a building created for women to peer out onto the city scene back in the day) and ate dinner at a revolving restaurant (similar to the Space Needle...but a large cylinder building and was a little shaky-all of us started to get dizzy). I was a little disappointed in Jaipur. It is called the pink city and people swear by the shopping, but the pink of the city is faded and the shopping was sub par. I was expecting to leave the city with a suitcase filled with Indian loot, but instead, I walked away with a few pieces of jewelry, shoes and a jewelry box.

One noteworthy moment was bribing a police officer out of a traffic ticket though. Clearly, the officer was taking advantage of his power and our foreign, naive faces, as I’m pretty sure there are zero traffic laws in India (it’s normal to see people driving on the wrong side of the road for Pete’s sake!) but nonetheless, we were pulled over because Jonny wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. Yes, you read correctly, a seatbelt violation. Seriously!? Instead of risking a ticket, we paid the police officer 100 rupees (about $3) and called it even. Needless to say, we were all angry at the obvious breach of power. Being on the opposite end of racial discrimination for once in our lives was a little unsettling. Poor white faces in a sea of difference.

Driving to Agra was an adventure in and of itself. We were forced to detour numerous times because of the road conditions. It started to get stormy and dark and a little scary with the swerving Indian traffic. We made it to Agra in one piece though. Now, Agra is kind of a big deal. Home to one of the Seven Wonders of the World, you would think that the city would be pumpin’ with Tourist traps and Westernized-Indian motifs. But no. Driving into Agra was like driving into a slum outside of Delhi. Bumpy, dirt roads, vendors selling greasy food from plywood covered shacks (a Westerner’s worst digestive nightmare), and the token ice cream cart selling strawberry licks and mango doubles. Imagine this as the frame to the epic and regal Taj Mahal.

Our home for 24 hours was called Hotel Sheela and recommended in the Lonely Planet. All other Lonely Planet recommendations have been great, but Hotel Sheela was not one that I would return to. The service was great, food delicious, but oh my oh my, the BUGS! I’m sure it has become quite apparent that I DO NOT do well with bugs (a self-realization that I have come to understand on this trip) but they were caked to the doors of each room. The moment you opened a door, they would all flood in and take shelter. Bugs were on the walls, sheets, mirrors…

Breath.

The Taj surpassed my highest expectation. It was absolutely beautiful (and this coming from someone who does model shoots at the Amber Fort out of boredom). Honestly, it took my breath away. You walk through these gates that are majestic and enter this beautiful courtyard that supports the massive monument of love and grief.

The Tragic Story of the Taj: It was built by Shah Jahn for his wife who died giving birth to their 14th child. Years after her death, and well after the Taj was under construction, one of Shah Jahn’s sons imprisoned him and he spent his last years of life looking towards his completed masterpiece from a prison cell.

After a morning spent at the Taj, we went to a ritzy brunch at the Oberjoi Hotel (the nicest hotel chain in India) and ate like kings. Fat kings. OHMYGOD, the food was so good, fruit that burst in your mouth, banana nut bread that melted to your tongue, cheeses that were rich in flavor and bizarre flavored, fresh squeezed juices. It felt good to balance a bug-infested night with a posh morning.

A couple observations and lessons that I learned from this trip:
1. Camels were as common in Jaipur as Toyotas are in the USA
2. India is a smorgasbord of poverty and wealth, which was especially apparent in Agra.
3. As rugged and strong as I like to pretend to be, I am still a princess at heart.
4. Monkeys babies, clinging to their mommy's chest is the most precious image in the world.
5. Monkeys as roadkill will make you sick to your stomach.
6. Dead cows are tied up by their feet and carried behind tractors to be disposed of, and don't look holy at all.

Okay, enough for now. Peace.

Saggy Tights

Kaitlyn’s Kindergarten Screening Test:
Q: Do you know what a cow is?
Kaitlyn: I don’t know. But they sure do stink!

You know when little girls wear those thick white tights and they get all baggy at the knees? That is what the cows are like here. Their skin is baggy white tights drooping all over their enormous bodies. They meander through the streets and plop down just where ever they please-even if it means that they are sitting in hectic mid-day traffic. I kind of love it. Cows make me smile now.

Campaign Kick-off and Dance Show:
I’ve swallowed quite the mouthful and I’m now realizing that perhaps I should have chewed a little slower, gulped a little less. I’m working on this dance performance for the kids that I teach and I only have a couple more weeks to put the whole thing together. I’m realizing that I’m going to need more material to work with, so I’m now combining the dances, with a couple songs, and this campaign kick-off that I have also decided to undertake.

In my “right-before-I-fall-asleep-brilliance” I came up with an idea for a human rights campaign that would tie in perfectly with Maitri’s work. Here’s the pitch: we do a series of workshops with women and children to help them gain self-respect and dignity. With a new sense of pride, the participants are less likely to engage in risky behaviors. Their new sense of confidence allows them to stand up for themselves and say “no” to physical and emotional threats. As a result, the campaign helps women and children live happier, longer lives. During the workshops, we take photos of the participants and help them come up with positive adjectives to describe who they are. These phrases are then photo-shopped onto the pictures and made into posters/coffee-table books/advertisements on Maitri’s website/etc. The women can see themselves on an advertisement, which gives them added confidence and helps Maitri promote the campaign.

So, I’m kicking the whole thing off at this dance show by having the kids stand up and tell the audience their “self-adjectives.” I’m also planning on conducting the workshops with the women working at Maitri’s vocational training school in Delhi.

While I think it has a TON of potential, I’m sort of freaking out! Can I actually pull this off? And more importantly, can I pull it off well? Let’s cross our fingers.

Weekend Plans:
Apparently, we can’t keep our feet planted on the ground for more than a week. This weekend we are planning a trip to Jaipur and Agra. We leave tomorrow for Jaipur (known for its history, desert, and shopping) then Sunday we will head to Agra to see the Taj Mahal. When it’s all said and done, it seems that I like to live out of my suitcase.

Just in the nick of time...

On our way to the airport (leaving Shillong) we were running ahead of schedule and had time to go to the infamous Hindu temple, Kamakhya located on Nilachal Hill in Guwahati. We happened to be in time for the first of a four day festival in celebration for the mother, Sati.

Legend has it, that Sudarshana (a minion to the God Vishnu) killed Shiva's wife, Sati, because she was burning herself and her father (in disapproval of the marriage) was causing Shiva to go mad. Her pieces were thrown into the sky and her womb fell on Nilchal Hill. Overnight, the Kamakhya temple was built and represents one of many sacred places in India where her pieces fell. During the summertime, the waters run red with red zink representing her menstrual fluids. Women come from around the world during this festival to worship Sati and get blessed with fertility.

As we wandered around the chaotic and vibrant display of color and spirituality, Sadu's began their four day fast, widows begged for money, and incense burned constantly creating a dense miasma. Clasping our hands, we prayed to Sati, repeating mantras that none of us understood. We received blessings, flowers and bindis on our foreheads. Men held tritans, hair was dreaded into masses, and hands were shoved in our faces begging for money. As the hoards of people bustled by and stared into our foreign, bewildered eyes I became self conscious of my existence at this ceremony, yet intrigued by the passion and devotion that I experienced. This was one of those moments where you stop, and think...holy shit! I'm in INDIA!

Work and Play in Shillong

cute little girl at the Bethany Society
Cooking class at the Bethany Society...smelled SOO GOOD!
Workshop at Saint Edmonds School
Maitri Interns at the Army School of Shillong
PRO in the making.
Shillong has proven to be a highlight of my time in India. It is a progressive jewel in the region, filled with hospitality and kindness. We were able to meet and work with the Maitri team here. It seems that Maitri’s access to schools is better here than in Delhi, and we were able to conduct two HIV/AIDS related workshops to educated students about the realities of the disease. We also had the opportunity to explore the various nooks of Shillong, eat at some fabulous restaurants (I ate meat for the first time since I’ve been in India), take some golfing lessons at 7:00 am and experience an extremely oily traditional Kerala Ayurveda massage. (The massage was a jolt of culture shock as we were completely naked, sprawled and greased…no body part excluded.)

The workshops that we conducted at the Saint Edwards School and the Army School of Shillong were highly successful. The students were receptive and active participants. I was surprised with their candid responses to some of the questions that were being posed, as well as their confidence to confide in us and ask questions related to HIV and sexuality. While it is disconcerting that the reality is that the students are exposed to risky behaviors that can result in HIV, their willingness to get personal and ask questions is encouraging. My hope is that they take home our messages and that they will think before they act, respect themselves and others, and engage in healthy living habits.

I’ve been impressed by the level of commitment to education for children of all socio-economic levels and mental abilities. Visiting institutions like the Bethany Society and the Mother Theresa Home are inspiring examples of how significant change can start out at the smallest levels, and have an enormous impact on the community and the lives of the students. Then Bethany Society is a rehabilitation center and vocational training center for those living with disabilities. After speaking with the man who runs the institution, we learned that it is their ultimate goal to integrate the students with disabilities with other students at normal public schools. They also are training older students with disabilities various vocational skills to equip them with the skills to be self-sufficient. Their facility is pristinely manicured, and the students are provided with quality tools to aid in this process, such as machines that convert books into brail and new sewing machines. The Mother Theresa Home was equally inspiring. This institution was also home to children living with disabilities, as well as orphans. The children were eager to show us around and sing for us. With continued support from the government, I predict that improvement in rehabilitation centers and those centers envisioning integration for all children will continue. Currently, the government support is on a state level. The Indian government should value these small institutions and provide funding for the work that is being done.

It was a pleasure working here. I was especially excited to visit another region of India that very few, if any, tourists visit. The northeastern region is incredibly green and hilly. The weather is about as unpredictable as the future. One minute you are enjoying a nice cool outdoor stroll, and the next minute, you are stuck indoors from a windstorm and downpour. Despite this, it gives the city of Shillong a certain charm that is irresistible. As I look outside now, and listen to the rain dripping off of the rooftops and slide down to the ground to generate masses of mud I can’t help but smile and dread returning to Delhi’s sticky heat.

Bugs. Bugs. Bugs.

This morning I woke up to Nancy in distress. Confused and sleepy I discovered that ants were invading her nightstand. As there was no food in our room, I’m a little distressed to learn about the invasion-especially when I envision the minuscule ants crawling all over me in my sleep.
In the past week, I have adopted about a zillion mosquito bites all over my body, killed a menacing, flying, speed demon bug, and listened to other pesky little critters buzz around my head at night. The apartment is dirty. We are living in filth, and no matter how clean we try to keep it, we are still in India, and we are still dirtier than I’d like to admit. Whether it is the dirt that we drag in on our shoes or the odors and sweat that clings to me like white on rice….there is just no escaping it. And here I am, giving health and hygiene lessons, when I can’t even rid my own house of insects!

I’m getting frustrated with teaching. I appreciate and admire the children’s enthusiasm and their eagerness to come to school. However, I don’t know how to command the children’s attention and they are so accustomed to yelling and running around in the classroom, that my efforts to gain control are unsuccessful. Yesterday, I taught their art lesson, and I just about gave up & walked away from level 3. Level 3 is the oldest group, (ages 13-16), all boys, and the absolute worst! Today I have the challenge of beginning sexual education with them and at this point, I feel like I’m walking into a den of tigers. How can I expect respect and attention while talking about sex, when they can’t even focus when I’m drawing a “horizon line” and mountains? Advice???

A couple days ago, the roommates were having a discussion about their impressions of India. (I sat back and listened). I have a difficult time understanding the irritation that people have when there are inefficiencies in developing nations. No, I take that back, I do understand the irritation. But I don't understand why people can't deal with it. I don't understand why people consider a country "bad" or "unbearable" because of a guy peeing on the side of the road. We are so caught up in our Western ideals, that any other life seems inconceivable. I'm not going to claim to be some sort of exception, as I often get frustrated with little cultural differences (like interrupting cell phones and the overall "slowness" to get things done, and the BUGS) but overall, I'm totally diggin' India. Sure, it takes a month to get internet to work and people try to rip you off any chance they get but come on! The guy who whips out his wiener on the side of the road, the children who don't seem to understand personal space, the inefficient train stations...it's charming! it's part of the adventure! it's INDIA!

Haha...I just realized that last rant came after much venting about the filth of my Indian apartment and disrespectful children. As I said...I'm no exception. Stoopid Westerners.

Peace.

Birthday Outting

Today, we went out for my birthday celebration. We hit up TGIFriday in hopes of beer and burgers. Unfortunately, you have to be 25 to drink in India AND of course we over-looked the fact that we couldn't get beef (as cow is holy and all...minor detail) Nonetheless, we had a great time indulging in yummy treats...greasy nachos, drinking sugary sweet smoothies and scarfing rich brownies. So fun!