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.

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

How Bazaar!

No, not a throwback to the ‘90s OMC song, but rather a weekly occurrence here in Andur.  Every Thursday, is in fact bazaar (market) day.  On this day, vegetable, grain, clothing, and all other vendors come to Andur to hawk their wares amidst the residents of Andur and neighboring villagers.  You’d think in my 5 months here I would be a regular visitor at bazaar day.  But, this past week was my first time!  (Staff members go weekly because this is where we stock up on our stock of vegetables in the mess here at the campus).

So, I rode the bus down to the village with some other coworkers and became prepared for the onslaught.  Stepping down in Andur, I was greeted by rows and rows of vegetable and fruit sellers – anything from cauliflower to eggplant to tomatoes and bananas.  With lines and crowds of people milling through stocking up as well.  Seeing as Andur is a fairly small village (population around 10,000), and I’m the only American in a 50 km radius, I was bound to attract some attention and run into people I knew.  It was a really gratifying feeling to be able to walk the paths and greet friends and acquaintances I have made over the past few months.  It made me feel as if I have created a semblance of a community here.

Some coworkers "candidly" purchasing tomatoes from a
tomato vendor (the leftmost guy).  

But in fact, bazaar day is a true lesson in pure economics.  Hello Supply, meet Demand.  Here you have vendors selling identical products right next to each other, competing for rupees one buyer at a time.  It’s a bit of a game, as you step up to a vendor asking the price of spinach.  “6 rupees for 2 bunches” they say.  You give a quizzical look and prepare to banter back.  “Ok ok, 5 rupees.”  Your face softens ever so slightly as you prepare to walk away, knowing you won’t pay a rupee above 4.  “Fine fine, 4 rupees” the vendor surrenders.  You hand over your 4 rupees (approximately  $0.10 USD).  You have forced the vendor to lower their price to meet your highest willingness to pay: the ultimate lesson in economics.  Hopefully this doesn’t label me too much as an academic junkie, but it was fascinating to stand in the center of the market and watch this and similar transactions taking place all around me.  Maybe some of what they were telling me at Berkeley might have been right…that is if I had been awake during class to hear it…

A view of the Bazaar.  One woman protecting
herself from the sun. It was a scorcher this day.

Aside from Bazaar day, I took a great weekend trip to the caves of Ajanta and Ellora.   I met up with two other fellows, Sami and Seth, to do a little sightseeing of historic Hindu, Buddist, and Jain caves dating back to the 2^nd Century BC.  It was a great two days, exploring some beautiful architecture.  These caves were built by literally cutting into bare rock from top to bottom.  I’ll let my pictures do most of the talking here, only because it’s hard to express the wonder of these sites in words.

Kailasa Temple, the largest and grandest Hindu temple at Ellora,
built in the 5th Century AD.  This used to be complete mountain.
Then the builders started carving in from the top.
It is still a functioning temple.

Sami and Seth posing in front of some of the Buddist
temples at Ellora.

A group of Buddist monks and Japanese tourists were
also touring the Ajanta caves when we were there.
As we were in one Buddist cave, the monks began to
lead a prayer. It was surreal as the reverberations of 
their words bounced off the wall, making the 
whole ceremony
seem ethereal.  

Ajanta is a series of 30 Buddist caves.  Each one holds a large
sculpture of....you guess it, Buddha.  Here is Buddha in "peace"
pose surrounded by his followers.

Also, I finally made it out to my first wedding.  A coworker got hitched and had a double wedding with his brother.  Wedding ceremonies in India can last for days, and (un)fortunately I was only able to attend the last part: the official ceremony and reception.  Weddings are a village affair…thus guests number by the hundreds to wish congratulations and get their hand on a good meal.  The ceremony began in the center of the village at about 12:30 with a crowd of about…500.  Although I couldn’t understand/hear most of the ceremony, I could still watch the cultural and ceremonial parts.  

A part of the ceremony requires the bride and
groom to walk around a flame and place 7 stones
on the little table.  I'm unsure as to the
significance.  Here's my coworker and his bride.

However, I got myself into a bit of a jam.  During the ceremony, rice is handed out with the intention that it be thrown at the bride and groom during particular parts of the ceremony.  So, as the ceremony begins everyone begins to throw their rice.  Thinking I’m just another one of the crowd, I take my handful and chuck it towards the stage.  How wrong I was.  Not only two minutes later, it’s round 2 of rice throwing... And here I am, riceless.  So, I begin to frantically pick up grains of rice around me and throw the measly 20 or so pieces I can find.  Turns out, there are about 6 or 7 times when rice needs to be thrown.  You can imagine my stress level as I would frantically gather rice, throw it, and look for more rice again.  I was much better prepared for the second wedding (more rice was given out and I rationed it). 

The ceremony.  A sheet is held between the bride and groom
so they can't see each other. This was one of the 

rice-throwing points of the ceremony.

But the ceremony was quick.  And afterwards, food.  As soon as the ceremony was over, the men ran towards the dining hall to get a floor seat.  People were guarding the door, only letting in a handful of people.  Fortunately I was let in (it helps to be the foreigner sometimes).  The room was packed with over 100 men, and plates and food were quickly distributed to the hungry guests.  I sat to eat…and was told “louker louker” (fast fast in Marathi).  We were only round one.  It was a bit hectic as people hollered for more chappati or bajji (vegetable) to the servers from across the room.  

People sitting in the dining hall waiting to be fed.
At this point, plates were being handed out.  

The food was fantastic…a Karnatakan meal I was told (Karnataka is the Indian state directly south of me and has a huge cultural influence in the District I live in).  As we left the food hall, another crowd of people took our seats.  There were about 6 or 7 rounds of dining.  First the men, then the women. 

The crowd outside waiting to be fed.  This is probably round 3 or 4.

After the ceremony and food, most people began to trickle back to their homes.  There’s no big reception with music as is typical at “Western” weddings.  But overall, I was extremely happy for my coworker and glad to be a guest at an Indian wedding.

The happy bride and groom!  Congrats!

Little did I know that this wasn’t going to be my first wedding this week.  I actually was brought along to a second wedding.  While in Solapur for work with my boss, I was told that on our way home we were going to “stop by” the wedding reception of a former coworker.  So, we went to ritzy “reception lawn” and paid our respects to the bride and groom (For the reception, it’s traditional for the bride and groom to stand at the head of the reception, while all guests come and congratulate them and their parents.  They then stand for a formal picture.  Given the hundreds of guests and “stop by”s that come, the bride and groom end up standing there for hours with smiles plastered on their faces).  We grabbed some food and made our way out.  A quick 45-minute…wedding crash.

And that’s a wrap.  Today officially marks 6 months here in India.  5 more to go.  It’s been a good ride so far, and I can only hope the second half is just as exciting. 

Posing with 2 village health workers in the office.
This was after I had handed out See's lollipops to the staff.
You can see the happiness on their faces...smiles all around.

Andrew