A Series of Reflections

So, we’re finally on the backend of this whole India trip.  Officially 4 months left at my work place.  It is really strange to think about how quickly this whole experience has flown by, especially given the hesitancy with which I approached the whole idea of living in India for 11 months.  But overall, it’s been a rollercoaster…complete with life changing moments that will stay with me for the rest of my life, new friends with whom I have shared some...for lack of a better word… “interesting” times, and moments when all I wished for was a cup of black coffee and air conditioning.  But alas, I guess that’s why you come here…to put things into perspective.

This was all set up by the Midpoint Retreat a few weeks back.  Coordinated by AJWS (the NGO that sent me here), we spent a week in south India in Mahabalipuram, Tamil Nadu for a week to refresh, reenergize, and rejuvenate for the rest of our fellowship.  Now, of course I had to sign up to be a part of the planning committee…so that means I was a part of the 5 member crew the put together the daily activities and planned the various sessions.  Given that our hotel was on the beach with its own partially-private shoreline, we made sure to include PLENTY of free time in our schedule.  Overall, it was fantastic to spend time with the other 10 fellows on the program and forget about the daily frustrations of work and a professional career (ha…I talk about it like I really know what that means).  To eat meat and share a drink.  Celebrate Shabbat together.  Be able to understand all the words that were said during a conversation.

All of us during one of the sessions.  Topics ranged from "impact"
 to "power and privilege", the theories of development
and challenges at work.  All sessions were fellow-led.

Well don't we look good.  Preparing to celebrate Shabbat together.

Havdallah (the closing Shabbat prayers on Saturday night) was
 always my favorite part of the service.  

And so I came back to Andur…partially wishing I could spend the rest of my time among such creature comforts.  But, the other part, mentally prepared to tackle the rest of this experience and make something of my time here.  I came back right in time for International Women’s Day, March 8, during which my NGO had a big rally in Solapur and a program for about 600 community volunteers and Self-Help Group members in the city.  Complete with inspiring speeches and testimonials about the importance of women and gender equality.  And yes, I was thrown on stage and was told to give a speech…in Marathi.  1 Point for Andrew.  I gave a speech in Marathi to about 600 women.  I might have babbled a bit, but generally spoke about the significance that empowering women has in empowering an entire village.  (I’m surprised I even knew the words to say that).  Although I was really nervous before and during, I felt really proud of myself…to be able to string together words into somewhat understandable sentences (key word: somewhat). 

The rally for International Women's Day through the streets
of Solapur.

A free Cancer Diagnostic Camp held the weekend
after at the NGO hospital.

And then it was Holi.  I missed the religious part of the holiday on March 19, during which a fire pit of dried cow dung is burned and sang/danced around.  But I was able to take part in Rung Panch Mein…the color festival which happens five days later (on March 25).  In cities, this part of the holiday occurs the day after.  In the village though…the 5 days are awaited and the color is thrown.  Holi celebrates a victory of a large battle in the Hindu holy book.  And thus the people are able to “celebrate” by throwing colored powder at each other.  On Rung Panch Mein (which literally translates to “Color in 5 Days”) all civil order is suspended.   It’s usually a boys/men thing…people drink and dance in the streets.  Motorcycles are driven with 3/4/5 people on them.  It can get wild.  And usually at some point in the afternoon the police will step in and all things will turn back to normal.  It was at about this point that I had made my way to Andur (the village).  My friend and I went through a few of the major intersections (or chowks) and got soaked with water and color.  

After returning from Andur.  What a mess!

But the best part was when we came back to the NGO campus. Although today was a work holiday, the hospital was still open.  And a few of the hospital employees had brought color.  And so, we went to war.  Teamed up trying to get people with color.  It was a no bar game…anything goes as long as we were outside (….wouldn’t want to get in trouble in the hospital).  Overall, loads of fun.  A great way to spend time with coworkers.  And interesting social comment…to see how gender constructs drifted away.  I am usually very conservative with women…especially because I’m living in rural India and to save my own ass and not get myself into a cultural war for doing who knows what.  But for Holi, I could take a handful of color and smack it straight across the face of a female coworker. 

Some of the girl strategizing their next moves.
Little did they know I snapped a picture.

Even the puppies got in on the action.  

But the midpoint retreat and the experience these past few weeks have made me think about what exactly keeps me here…why I haven’t jumped on a plane back home.  Some of the things I’ve reflected on…

• The Impact:  well, not necessarily of myself being here (still contemplating that one).  But the organization I’m working with.  It’s extremely empowering to hear the stories of the people I meet backdropped against the work of my organization.  To put it in perspective: one village health worker who has been with our organization for many years.  My boss recently asked her during a personal conversation (which was later repeated to me), “What are you afraid of?”  Her answer, “Nothing.”  Not the patriarchal community of her village, domestic violence, speaking in public, being active in conversations (rather than passive…women’s traditional roles), or leaving her home for days at a time to attend a Gender Equity conference.  To me, she has become an emblem of the work that individuals can do at the most basic level to transform a community through the actions of even a single woman.  It really is profound.
• The warmth: The community I live with has truly taken me in as one of their own…even if they can’t understand me half the time (I say half because now for some of the time I can actually talk with them too!).  It didn’t matter that I didn’t speak the language initially or know many (if any) of the cultural customs.  I was here, and they were ready to make sure I knew what Maharashtran hospitality was all about.  Whether it be a holiday (like Holi) or around lunch, it’s great to be a part of a community that I can talk and laugh with.

• 

  With some coworkers.  A village health worker on the left,
  Community Facilitator and his son on the right.

• The Time Alone: Both literally and figuratively, I spend a lot of time by myself.  And to tell you the truth, it’s fantastic.  During college, life was hectic and party-crazed (just kidding mom), not leaving me with a lot of time to relax and think…well…about nothing.  I get a lot of time to do that now, either lost in thought or drifting off in my own mind, reading on the NGO roof with acres of farm patchworked beneath me, walking along the highway with a beautiful sunset in tow.  It’s nice.  Really nice.  And sometimes, at the office, when conversations are happening around me in Marathi (either ones I’m participating or not), I tune out and can get lost in my own thoughts.  Well…usually not intentionally.  But attempting to translate the conversation takes a lot of effort that I sometimes don’t have.

Not at all related, but....my first CHAPPATI!.
Yes, the two chappati's in my hand were made by yours truly.

•  The Stars:  I have a vivid memory as a child going to a wedding at Lake Tahoe.  We were staying at a cabin along the lake.  I went outside at night and looked up.  I was awestruck – thousands of stars above me, overwhelming me by the sheer magnitude with which they overtook the night sky.  Here, I get that every night.  After dinner, what I originally reasoned as a way to “digest” dinner, I take a stroll along the one path on my NGO campus.  What was once an excuse to stretch my legs is now a much anticipated event.  Either alone or with friends, I stroll the path…eyes glued to the sky.  Thousands of stars stare back, uninhibited by city lights or smog, spread out in ways that only someone else knows.  I only wish I knew the constellations so I could have something more to do than just stare at them (yes, I do know Orion’s belt…but that’s about it).  But again, I could get lost in the seemingly endless collage of twinkling lights.

Unfortunately stars don't take too well on my camera.
But here's a lovely picture of the moon instead. 

But there is a flipside, things that haven’t worked so well during my time here in India.

Things I have not quiet learned to cope with:

• The nature: Now, don’t get me wrong.  I love myself some nature (some of you may disagree with me on this, but it’s true).  Maybe just not…all the time.  There comes a point when the 3 ant colonies in your room and the swarm of mosquitos in the corner gets to be a bit…tiring.  Or when you have to take out frogs from your bathroom a few times a week (and always look in the toilet bowl to make sure there are none there before you sit).  The first time one such “friend” came into my room, I shouted – more out of surprise than fear – and continued to shout until I had gotten it out the door.  Sitting back at my computer, I thought nothing of it.  Then, about 30 minutes later, I get a frantic knocking at my door.  I open to find half the night staff crowded around my room.  My boss’s son is in front and asks “Andrew Andrew, are you ok?  We thought you had epilepsy or someone was trying to break in!”  Now, why they would specifically come to those two conclusions is beyond my line of reasoning.  But in the end, all was settled (I’m now the butt end of any frog joke on campus).  And I make sure to “quietly” dispense of any future friends.
• The Time:  If you were unaware, India runs by it’s own…standard time.  There is no rhyme or reason to this system, just a few…hours…later than planned.  Now, I very much try to be timely (to the contrary of what many of you might think) and am not always successful.  But the same cannot be said when an event or activity starts 3 hours from when it was said it would.  At the beginning, I didn’t understand when I was ready to start a project at 9:30am (when the office opens), only to have my boss come at 12:30pm prepared to start.  Or when a huge training is scheduled to start at 11:00am..only to have participants start showing up at 11:30am and have it officially start at 1pm.  I have now realized that people plan events to strategically galvanize this huge vaccum of time.  Surprisingly though, events will always end when they say they will.  But alas, it gets frustrating when I am told to be ready by a certain time, only to have some come rushing at me 2 hours after that asking “Where are you?  We have to go!” and get pushed into a car to whichever destination.  At least from now on maybe I can use this as an excuse....
• The people singing...all the time: I'm definitely one to understand the irresistibility of a good song, the need to belt out the words (whether or not you know them) when the moment feels right.  But then again, there is a limit.  However here, I've found there is no limit.  Such that at any point in time I can hear humming, quiet singing, or raucous solos at any part of the day.  It's not that I don't enjoy it...at the beginning at least.  But it gets a bit tiring when the same five songs get played on loudspeakers and are sung tirelessly by coworkers and friends.  Maybe I should try to introduce some American music in here....Rebecca Black's "Friday" song as an educational tool?
• The Multiplier Effect: I think there is a theory among most/all Indians that the more people you add participating in an activity, the faster and better it will be accomplished.  Now, to a degree this is very true: lifting heavy objects, building a large structure, etc.  But even here, the law of diminishing marginal returns holds.  Such that every additional person you include adds a little less advantage, until you reach a point where adding one more person is negligible, and then adding even more becomes negative.  Case in point: turning on computers (maybe 2 people needed), simultaneous people dictating while you’re typing (max 1 person), fixing a non-working projector (maybe 3…not 10).  I have encountered many situations, very similar to the above and more so, where far more people than needed are assigned to a task because it is assumed that it will be accomplished better and faster.  Thus, the multiplier effect.  Unfortunately, this is false.  Only 1 person may dictate to me while I type at a time.  If the computer can’t turn on, give me 5 minutes -- not 5 people -- to help.  By now, during such situations, I’ve learned to take a few deep breaths or just step away instead of getting angry or frustrated.  It’s all a learning process.

And thus is my experience.  There is good.  There is bad.  In the end, it's important to take it all in stride and recognize that the benefits of my time here have FAR outweighed any of the "negative" perceptions I may have.  It can be frustrating, but it wouldn't be India any other way.

Hope all is well and missing you all!

Andrew