Conclusion

So, I’ve officially left. No just India, but a community, life, and home of which I have been a part of for the past 11 months. The past year has been an adventure filled with challenges and successes that have pushed me throughout this experience. However, when I reflect back on my time in India, and Andur specifically, I’m struck by the level of joy and satisfaction that my memories bring back. And I think I can say that the impact has been mutual – my work in Andur as a part of the larger social improvement made by my organization along with the transformation and maturity I have undergone by overcoming an innumerable number of “unknowns” in a place very far from home. I came to India to learn more about the grunt work of international development. And I come away truly impressed by the strength and determination with which these communities approach their work. But I have also learned and grown immensely, with a better understanding of the world around me and appreciation for the opportunities I have.

Now, I don’t want to make it sound like my life here was easy. As many of you know, there were a number of times that the obstacles seemed insurmountable. Whether it be an unfamiliar, dare I say Indian, work environment straining against my efficiency-Americanized mind frame. Or crowds of people attempting to fit into a finite space on a ST bus. It seems as if I was constantly fighting – fighting against my preconceptions of what I wanted from this project/person/phone call/experience against the reality of an India that is far larger and more complex than myself. And there were times when the fight seemed too difficult, that the obstacles were an unnecessary diversion against my real objective or future. But, at the end of the day, I also fought back tears as my car left the NGO campus for the final time.

When I look back on my experience, it is not the frustrations or screaming matches I remember most; it is the community, the holidays (oh yes there were many), the meals that shine brightest. I can sum it up with a small story: I remember a time during summer vacation in May. Everyone had left, except for 5 of us remaining on the NGO campus: three nursing students, one village health worker, and me. At night we made dinner, then sat together on the mess floor to enjoy the fruits of our…well mostly their…labor. We ate, chatted, made jokes, and relaxed. Although the NGO complex was almost entirely empty, I felt a deep and committed sense of “place” – that I was somewhere I was accepted and belonged. That, aside from the obstacles of language and culture, I had formed a community that accepted me within its fold. My language skills improved. I got accustomed to the food. And my sense of “otherness” slowly faded away against the backdrop of community and friends. Is my time best remembered by the huge impact I made in rural primary health and women’s empowerment? Well, that is still to be determined. Instead, I look back at my coworkers, at the peanut farm, at the mangoes, at my poorly conceived idea of jokes (something about 4 wives) and I remember the laughs and meals, the conservations that I took part in or attempted to understand. To everyone in Andur, I will always be grateful.

So, yes it is a bittersweet ending. If you had asked me 10 months ago, I would have been counting the days until my return home (not to say I didn’t). Yet I am also reflecting back on an experience that is not just another blog post. It is a year of my life that has impacted me and will have profound ripples throughout my future. And I leave, not sad about what is left behind (emotional yes, sad no), but prepared to tackle the future with the same strength and resilience…and hesitation and fear… with which I came to Andur.

The Beginning of the End....

Life right now is…pretty great.  I am at a place where I enjoy going to work, where I’m busy with tasks that I feel keep me on my toes, my relationships with staff and friends has evolved to a place where I can talk and joke and laugh (my improving language skills might help here), and the realization that my time here is (dare I say it) almost over makes me appreciate every day even more.


Every day, right around sunset, I go for a walk through the farmland adjacent to our campus - time alone for my thoughts and reflection.  And I am consistently awestruck by the beauty of where I live.

Yes, another picture of the sunset.  I just can't get enough of them.

It looks fake, right?  But this is the real deal.

Well, I also think part of the reason that I’m so happy is that….it’s mango season.  Your mood entirely changes when you can go outside, reach up, and pluck a nice, ripe mango from the tree outside your door.  Or head down to the market, where 1 kilo will set you back a good 20 rupees…or about $0.40.  That comes to about $0.10 per mango.  Yes, I have gotten a bit carried away at times – my current record is 9 in one day.  But, you just gotta pick yourself up the next day and put things in perspective. I never realized how many different kinds of mangoes there are, or ways in which you can eat them.  From slicing, to sucking, to peeling - each mango offers it's own challenge and rewards.  

The first mangoes of the season, back in early May.

One of my favorite days to date: spending an afternoon with one of our village health workers in her farm sitting under a mango tree.  One of the most relaxing, enjoyable, stress-free days I've had with fantastic company and...mangoes.

At the village health workers farm....words cannot describe
the joy this brought me.  All mangoes, ready for eating.

That's us, in action.  

Work recently has come to a place where I feel that I’m no longer just going through the motions, but am able to add value and hopefully leaving some kind of impact on the organization.  I’ve been doing a lot of grant writing.  And although not as exciting as it may seem, I’ve been given a lot of responsibility and leadership to work with the community, staff and managers to devise proposals that can potentially be extremely meaningful here at work. 

We’ve also held a series of trainings that have allowed me to spend more time out in the villages and interacting with the communities we work with.  One training in Maternal and Newborn Health brought 15 resource persons from Solapur (the big city) and fanned them out over 3 days to reach 28 villages.  Village by village we sat down with Self Help Group members and discussed the ways they can improve outcomes for pregnancies and deliveries.  In some villages, outcomes are very good.  But in others, over half of deliveries occur in the home without oversight by medically trained personnel. 

In the village मेसाई जवळगा (Mesai Jewalga) training on Maternal and
Newborn  Health, specifically proper antenatal care and nutrition.

In कस्ती खु (Kasti Khu) for a similar MNH training.

In केरूर (Kerur) for a training on the Government rationing system.
The government rations goods like sugar, wheat, and kerosene.
 People need to know their rights! 

Another training in लोहारा (Lohara) regarding the rationing system.

My language skills have come to a point where I can have full-fledged conversations….with the 6 year old daughter of one of our staff members.  Granted, half of our conversations are me teaching her English.  Well, and the other half are her asking me for chocolate because I taught her English. 

My six year old buddy.  

But that aside, my language skills have also allowed me to become a lot closer to the staff.  Language has never been a barrier to me getting to know my community, and it’s powerful to realize how little you need words to find affection and trust.  But my growing language ability has allowed me to significantly bridge the gap from guest to close knit community member.  To be able to talk with our village health workers and hear their stories, their struggles, and their bravery is truly empowering.  For example, talking with one worker who was married at the age of 9, went to live with her husband at 17 – is now 27 with three children.  But she is a commanding force in her village, unafraid to speak up against patriarchal hierarchies and works hard to improve the conditions for her family and her community. I don’t even try to compare myself against these women, whose motivation and determination is truly inspiring.

A traditional baby naming ceremony, or बारस (Baaras).  One of our
employee's daughter had a child, and we all attended the 

ceremony about 2 weeks after the birth.  As a part of the 

ceremony, guests come to the baby and whisper in its ear the

name you think it should  have.  And, as you're bending over, 

everyone crowded around slaps you on the back.
Why?  I'm not so sure.

And of course, the ultimate cultural similarity:
the presence of food.
Of course a meal is served afterwards.

As I go into my final month of work (yes, final month), it’s hard for me to pinpoint exactly where I’ve made my big impact or what my huge legacy will be.  But right now, I’m thoroughly enjoying the relationships that I’ve made, my responsibilities at work, and the respect I have for the community surrounding me.

Let's play 'Where's Andrew?'
Not so hard...
Me disturbing the nursing students as they're trying to study.
I just wanted a picture.

Oh, but I do have to say one negative thing going on recently.  I have a rat…..infestation.  It’s been going on for a few weeks now, and I see their squeaky little faces at night right before I’m about to lay down.  They crawl in and out…to my utmost disgust.  Yes, I’ve laid out poison and plan out their demise.  But once I shut off the lights, I can only close my eyes, cross my fingers, and realize that they are probably more afraid of me than I am of them.  Hopefully….

God's Own Country

Disclaimer: The following blog post and pictures do not do justice to the events of which you are about to read.

For Passover, we were allowed to take a few days off from work to celebrate with the other fellows.  So, 6 of us decided to make our way down to the southern state of Kerala.  I wish you all had been there, because the following words are like the movie Avatar 3D watched as a silent black and white film…just not the same.  Kerala is beautiful: lush green forests, lakes, backwaters, (seemingly) clean ocean, mountains.  The people are friendly.  And literacy hovers around 95%.  (Kerala is probably the most advanced state in India in terms of development).  And English widespread. There was not one person that we spoke to during the trip that could not understand us Americans (at least partially).  In fact, English and Malayalam (the local Keralan language) are both more prevalent than Hindi (the national language of India). Kerala’s nickname is “God’s own country” I think because it is blessed with the beauty of nature and is extremely diverse (comparatively) in terms of religion.

To keep you oriented, a map of our travels.

So, we made our way down to Kerala (with a pit-stop in Mumbai to say goodbye to Sami, a fellow who needs to return home early from the program…miss ya Sami!) and were greeted by perfect weather, beautiful sunsets, and an overall sense of relaxation.

Train: our main form of transportation from city to city.  

Our first stop was Varkala, a beachside town that offers little more than a relaxing respite from the hustle and bustle of nearby tourist towns.  We arrived in the morning (after catching a 6am train), dropped our bags at the hotel, threw on some trunks, and made our way down to the beach.  For the next two days, we proceeded to burn ourselves under the scorching sun (some of us WAY more than others – not me though).  However, mid-April starts the beginning of monsoon season in Kerala. So about 5pm every day, heavy rains would begin to fall…forcing us to turn indoors.  Even still, the thundering rain and striking lightening against the ocean (we had an oceanfront hotel) made the scenic views breathtaking – ribbons of lightening that strike the ocean, quickly lighting up the skyline.  During periodic breaks in the rain, we would make our way out to explore the few shops and restaurants along the water. 

Imagine having to look/sit at this all day for 2 days.
Torture I know...

Our group relaxing at one of the restaurants alongside the water.
Our first breakfast. 

Our second night in Kerala marked the first night of Passover (Passover is an 8-day Jewish celebration marking the Hebrews escape from slavery in Egypt and commemorating our freedom).  During the first two nights, Jews celebrate by holding a Seder, an ordered set of prayers and a ceremonial meal.  So, the 6 of us decided to cook our own meal and have our own Seder for this evening. So Monday April 18 we spent the afternoon shopping for local groceries in town: fresh fish, 5 pounds of mangos (which came out to about $2 USD), pineapple, coconut milk, etc.  

Ahhh..Mangos!  Probably one of the best reasons to come to India.
I mean, aside from the warmth, culture, diversity...etc.
But mangos!!  and when they average 10 Rupees ($0.25 USD) a pound,
what could be better

That evening, we each were parceled off by the two master chefs (Fellows David and Arielle) into various tasks.  My job: peeling garlic (ok, not so exciting, but still very important for Indian cooking).  Because of the thunderstorms the power would go out occasionally – forcing us to work by candlelight.  

Yes, that's yours truly getting his job done!

But nonetheless, the meal was incredible.  Our menu: cooked butterfish, mango salsa, quinoa salad with beets, charoset (a traditional Passover component made from nuts and apples), and desert of bananas in coconut milk.

The Seder ceremony was probably one of the most memorable I have ever had.  We went through the traditional order, but diverged every so often when someone had their own traditions they wanted to share, stories from past Seders, or different tunes for the songs.  In essence, we truly made it our own.  Plus, we had the 4 cups of wine to keep us going (a part of the Seder is to drink 4 cups of wine throughout the ceremony – of course we had to abide by this rule). Unfortunately we didn’t have matzah to eat (traditional unleavened bread), but we substituted banana chips instead.  Overall, we had an amazing time together, sharing memories, and making new ones together.

Everyone loves themselves a Seder!

Our Seder plate.  A little improvised. A Seder plate is a ceremonial
dish that holds symbolic items for the meal.  Something different
here is the orange, which represents the importance of women.

After Varkala we made up way up north about an hour to Alleppey and jumped on a houseboat for our tour of the Keralan backwaters.  The backwaters are lakes and lagoons that run parallel to the Arabian Sea.  They’re beautiful, lined both sides with lush green. Although we often passed other boats on their way down with Indian and foreign tourists alike, I felt a complete sense of serenity as we slowly made our way up the backwaters.  Our package was the Honeymoon Cruise, perfect for the 3 men and women that constituted our group of 6.  We ate wonderfuly on the boat with food prepared by our own hired chef.  Slept the night on the rocking waters of the backwaters.  And made our way back to the city the next day. 

A view of the backwaters.

A houseboat, very similar to ours.
One of the many making its way down the waters.

It's like you can't take a bad picture of a sunset here in India.
This one from our boat.

The local people do most of their
traveling by....boat.  

From there, back to Fort Kochin, one of the largest cities of Kerala and the main hub for most tourists.  It’s a beautiful city.  And, strangely enough, very few roaming cows.  Kerala has less of a British colonial influence because it is so far south and was more populated by Christian missionaries that were predominate the area.  Thus, there is a strong Christian presence in the state – as seen by the large number of churches throughout the city (and state really). 

Fishing nets line the water in Fort Kochi.  They were once a part of
the booming fishing industry (which still exists), but are now
mostly for show.

Lots-o-fish.

Our daylong jaunt through the city inevitably brought us to…Jew town.  Yes, Fort Kochin has an area of the city called Jew Town.  

Well look what we have here...

In fact, there used to be a large Jewish population in the city – people who immigrated here over 2000 years ago, with a second wave during the Spanish inquisition.  Today, only 10 Jews remain in the city.  However, the area of town is famous for the Paradesi Synagogue, built over 400 years ago and maintained currently by international donations. Unfortunately, the Synagogue was closed due to the holiday (major bummer), but we were able to check it out a few days later. We also had the opportunity to meet some of the community members (you’ll have to read on to hear about that).

The Synagogue is the blue building on the left.
Unfortunately no pictures inside.

From here, we said goodbye to three of our crew (who had to get back to…work), and the three boys headed off to Munnar, a hill station about 5 hours east of Fort Kochin.  As described in earlier posts, a hill station is usually on the top of a mountain and serves as a weekend getaway vacation spot for city folk.  Well, Munnar stands at the top of a mountain and is surrounded by tea plantations.  The views: gorgeous.  Possibly the most beautiful place I have ever been to.  And the journey there, just breathtaking.  As you zigzag up the mountainside in a state bus, you’re surrounded by beautiful forests and green hillsides.  With thundering classical music in my ears, I felt like I was smack dab in the opening scenes of Jurassic Park.

The mist rolling through the hills of Munar.

Munnar was gorgeous and pristine.  I’ll let the pictures do most of the talking here, but the first day we did some of our own exploring, and the next day rented a guide for the morning who took us to the top of a mountain.  Thank you to Seth for choosing our hotel (I’ll spare you the details…let’s just say David gave us all a hard time about it). 

Us three fellows atop a mountain,
everything beneath covered in fog.

Tea plantations.  Beautiful

From there, back to Fort Kochi.  We had one last night in the city, and decided to make our way back to the Synagogue to join Chabad for Friday night Shabbat services at the Paradesi Synagogue in Kochi (Chabad is an orthodox community of Jews that has houses around the world as gathering points for Jews to find a community).  After services, walking back from the temple, we were able to stop at the homes of some of the Jewish community in Fort Kerala.  There are only 10 people left (from a population that at one point numbered almost 10,000), 9 of whom are over the age of 80.  Most Jews in Kerala left once the state of Israel was formed.  We sat in their homes, were offered food and drink, and spoke to them about the community that once existed.  After wishing them a "Chag Samayach” (Happy Holiday in Hebrew – it was still Passover), we made our way back to our side of the city.

And then it was back to Mumbai.  I had an extra day layover in Mumbai and so was able to explore parts of the city I hadn’t yet been to (I’ve mostly traveled through Mumbai as a transit point to various other parts of the country).

Where the final dance sequence of Slumbdog Millionaire was filmed.
I thought it was really cool.
I couldn't help but listen to"Jai Ho" on my iPod.

Chhatrapati Shivaji Termins (or more commonly referred to
as Victoria Terminus), the main local metro hub of Mumbai.
It also houses the above said dance set.

Overall, a fantastic week’s vacation that made me ready to come back to work and get started on the …last…2.5 months of my Fellowship.  I can’t believe it’s almost over, and that I have to start thinking about what’s coming next.

**I would like to thank Ava and David for allowing their photos to grace this blog post.  Unfortunately I had a camera mishap (ok, i lost it), and was therefore left photo-less.  Plus, these are 10x better than anything I could have taken.

Success!

Dhoni steps up to the pitch.  It’s the 49^th over, only 12 more balls before the match is over.  He tests out his bat.  All seems well.  The bowler comes fast from afar.  Dhoni swings.  The ball flies up and over boundary for 6!  And with that, India wins the match. 

The final shot of the match. MS Dhoni (the Indian cricket team captain)
with Sri Lankan keeper  behind.

If you didn’t understand any of that, don’t worry (I was a novice once too).  But that is a play-by-play of the winning pitch of the Cricket World Cup.  India faced off with Sri Lanka in a grand South Asian battle to prove once and again that it has one of the strongest cricket teams around the world.  In case you didn’t know, cricket is to India what football (the American one) is to the US.  Indians go wild over cricket matches, some varieties of which can last 5 days.  And when India hasn’t won the world cup in 28 years, it’s a huge cause for celebration

Throughout March, the furor for India to take home the win gained momentum as they beat team after team, including cricket powerhouses West Indies and Australia. During the semi-final match, India played Pakistan.  For those of you who don’t know, India and Pakistan have had a long history of animosity – 3 wars, religious tension, disputed territory…etc etc.  Thus, India and Pakistan do not play each other.  The only chance is a venue like this, when the teams (both of whom are excellent) make it to the semi-final match.  Needless to say, India won.  And let me tell you….the streets went wild.  I had been in Solapur to watch the match, and during the entirety of the match the city had shut down.  Everyone was hunkered down in front of a TV watching. As soon as the final ball was hit, the fireworks began and everyone went to the streets.  People were wild, screaming and yelling with national pride like there was no tomorrow.

Watching the match with coworkers.

Motorcycles whizzing by our street in Solapur.  I apologize
it's not too descriptive, but it was only/best picture I could
get at the time.

And the same could be said for the final match.  For the weekend, I went to Pune to visit Seth, a fellow “Fellow’, to watch the match.  We decided to take the match-watching part low-key, eating and watching at a deserted restaurant above the city.  But, when Dhoni (the team captain) hit that final ball, we ran down the street toward his apartment.  Cue: huge dance party.  We stayed out for hours, dancing in the streets and celebrating with our fellow Indians.  People rode by in cars and motorcycles, waving huge Indian flags.  Speakers blared with music.  And everyone reveled in the joy of the day. It was fascinating to think that this was happening all over the country!! (Un)fortunately I didn’t bring my camera along, so I don’t have any pictures to document the event.

Of course that weekend had been a holiday weekend (Guddy Parwa…the Hindu New Year) meaning we had an extra day on our hands.  On a rash decision, we decided to make our way up to Mahabaleshwar, a hill station 4 hours outside of Pune.  A hill station is usually situated on a…hill (or mountain)…and is a weekend getaway for city folk (because it’s up high it usually has cooler weather).  Mahabaleshwar receives not so great reviews on Lonely Planet (the ubiquitous traveling guide) - actually scathing comments telling travelers to avoid the place at all costs. But instead, we decided to go off some local advice about berries (yum!) and head up for a night. Boy what a smart decision.

It turns out, the weekend of April 1 was the Mapro Gardens Strawberry Festival in Mahabaleshwar.  After the 4 hour bus ride, we dropped our bags at a hotel and made our way to the main road.  Walking down among the throng of other weekend getaway-ers, we suddenly began to hear a reverberating pounding.  A little further…and we find ourselves in the midst of a huge drum circle with dancers in the streets and women holding out baskets of strawberries.  It was pure joy.  Mapro, a corporate berry farming enterprise, sponsors a yearly strawberry festival. It was amazing.  A slow-moving, drumming, dancing crowd down the main road giving out free strawberries.  What more could you ask for. 

Free strawberries being handed out by the strawberry women!

Drum circle!

The parade moving down the main street of Mahabaleshwar.

The next day, we of course had to make our way down to the Mapro Gardens Farm to check out what this was all about.  The Farm is approximately 10 kilometers away from the city.  Seth and I decided the best form of transportation was…horseback.  After debating our way through horse vendors, we finally settled on a price we liked (Rs. 900…or about $20 USD total) and had a lovely 1.5 hour jaunt through the Maharashtran mountains.  When I say lovely, I actually mean somewhat painful.  But we made it to the Farm and were greeted by free samples, fresh strawberry ice cream, more dancing and drum circles. 

My not-so-favorite mode of transporation,
but at least our horses like each other

Yum yum! Fresh strawberry ice cream!

On a side note, it was fascinating to see the crowd of people who come to Mahabaleshwar: middle to upper class Indians dressed in American Eagle and Abercrombie and Fitch.  Aside from the color of people’s skin, I could have been in any US city (that had strawberries of course).  Living in rural India, I sometimes forget that there is a very large, urban middle class that is strong and powerful.

The following weekend I made my way to…an Indian Water Park. Now, in the US I usually try to avoid these at all costs.  But when in India…  A friend on campus was going with a few buddies of his, and so I decided to go along.  It was a small water park, about 5 rides, but a fantastic reprieve in the middle of the grueling heat.  As you enter the park, you are given a bathing suit.  I decided to use my own.  The gender difference between a man’s bathing suit (short, tight nylon skivvies) and a woman’s suit (nylon long-sleeve shirt and pants). But overall, I had a great time – making a fool of myself in the water and trying to best the other guys in our group.  Who needs lifeguards and chlorinated water.  It was nice to let my guard down and not have to worry about work for a while.

Water Park!

Just a couple of guys...who were up to no good!

Did someone say slide?!?!

And so our weekend ended and I made my way back to Andur.  Fortunately, the fun didn’t stop.  As a part of my work, I had to make a series of field visits in Solapur and to villages around Andur.  This was fantastic because, aside from my work, it gave me the opportunity to speak with community members about the problems they face and their ownership of the work they’re doing. 

A predominately Muslim slum in Solapur.

The Community Volunteer of one slum with her two sons,
who were competing for who could write to 100 in English the fastest.

Also, for 3 days I visited a number of villages far from my NGO campus, requiring me to stay at a coworkers house in his village. Living amongst the community, I was surprised at how little they made me feel out of place.  I wasn’t gawked at or huddled around.  But was able to walk through the village and get a face-to-face view of how 60% of India really lives.  To let you know: many houses had satellite TV, cows do roam the streets at will, almost everyone has a cell phone, and the monthly electricity bill comes out to 200 rupees (about $4).  But even more so, my site visits showed me that my consumerist culture in the US isn’t the only path to happiness.  That even without the luxuries I take for granted, people can be very content with their lives.  Yes, there is hardship.  But that is also qualified against the happiness of a good harvest, your children, a good community.  Everything is relative.  It puts things in perspective and makes me appreciate even more the opportunities and comforts I have merely because I was born in a certain place.

A group of adolescent girls in Dhangarwadi village discussing
reproductive health.

The sari shop a microfinance group member
had opened with the help of a loan from our NGO

Grinding lentils with the Village Health Worker from Keshegaon.