No Chicken Wire Please

I finally got my nose pieced. Oh my goodness I was completely terrified. I mean a guy was coming at my nose with a wire. I had better start from the beginning. Annabel and I had decided that we were going to get our noses pierced in our first couple weeks of being in India. But we finally decided to do it when we were in Hyderabad. We thought, this is India we should be able to get our noses pierced just about anywhere, but surprisingly that is not the case. The first place that we went did offer but after we asked if they could pierce our noses they asked if we brought our own wire. Wait. What? Were we supposed to bring our own wire? The guy then went to the street vendor who was selling chicken and proceeded to get wire from him. We watched him clean it with horrified looks in our eyes. Annabel and I knew that this was the epitomy of sketchy. So we decided to leave. We went to probably 20 shops that all had nose rings but none of them were willing to pierce our noses. At a couple of the places we are pretty sure that same wire was showing up. Because they too would ask if we brought our own wire. Then they would leave for a minute and come back with what we believe was the chicken wire from the first shop. Eventually we became disheartened and almost gave up. The last shop we visited was the first to actually have wire and we decided that this was the place. The shop had a wire and the shop was clean: therefore all of our expectations were met. Annabel was the first to go. It took a while of her hiding her head between her legs and the man laughing but in what seemed like half a second, the wire was through. But what happened next almost stopped me from getting my nose pierced. That was when the pliers came out and the twisting began. He twisted the wire into a custom nose ring made especially for her nose. Which sounds really nice but the pliers in the nose part and the look on Annabel’s face when he did it terrified me. Then it was my turn. I was worse than Annabel. The second the wire came close subconsciously my head moved away. At one point he grabbed my head to hold it into place which freaked me out even more. When I finally mustered up the courage and the wire was in my nose, I panicked. I stood up and didn’t want the next part. It was at this point that Annabel said, “You can’t go around with a wire sticking out of your nose”, this was a very good point. So a few tears later, Annabel and I had officially gotten our nose’s pierced in India.

Fulmani of Varanasi

Location: Varanasi, India. 2 December 2010.

Tonight we went to a Hindu (aarti) prayer along the Ganga (Ganges) River, and what an experience.  Sitting on the ghat’s stairs, our large group was immediately targeted by peddlers and beggars alike.  One peddler who I got to know a little about was a girl named Fulmani.

Fulmani first approached Jackie to try to sell her a box that contained the equipment to make powder bindis.  Jackie refused, and because I was near her, I was Fulmani’s next target.  With a long black braid, the beginnings of the skin disease that creates white patches of skin on her normal darker face, a sweater over a pink salwar chemise, Fulmani was a very captivating young girl.  Her English was very good and she seemed more intent on talking and laughing than selling.

I was still talking with her when the prayer service ended, and she ended up walking with Annabel and I, helping us find other places and an ATM.  Along the way, she told me she is 12 years old and in the 7^th standard.  She told us she wants to become an English teacher.  Since it was very dark out when she was walking with us, and she would otherwise be alone, I asked her if she was scared to be out alone.  Fulmani told me, “I can take care of myself.”  And take care of herself, and us, she did.

Whenever we were approached, Fulmani would chastise the person (usually a man) in Hindi and pull us away.  When it was just she and I walking, I noticed people looking at us with interest, but not approaching us.  It was a nice change.

Before I had to meet with the group to go to dinner, Fulmani asked me if I would visit her uncle’s shop.  I said I couldn’t buy anything, but she said that was okay and took me there.  I looked at the beautiful silk scarves, but didn’t buy one and Fulmani walked me back to the ghat.  But before I left the shop, Fulmani grabbed a pink scarf from a shelf (her favorite color) and told me it was a gift.  I’ll carry it home as a reminder of Fulmani and of this night with her.

I think it’s going to rain today…

So our time is coming to a close and we are saying our goodbyes to our favorite places, people and really taking in our last moments. Today was the Valedictory ceremony and a lot of the Visthar staff came as well as the women from Tibet that are now staying on campus. It started off with a very moving speech from the famous David Selvaraj and continued to the lighting of the candles around the beautiful sand design that Steven and Nazar had created. The ceremony primarily revolved around the SJPD students and talking about how much we have learned and how far we have each come as individuals. Julio gave the first speech from the SJPD students and then Kyle got up and gave a thank you speech that brought everyone to tears, even Roshen. Rachel sang a beautiful song and Alex recited his poem that was written for our final projects. Then a group of us got up and “tried” to sing We didn’t start the fire by Billy Joel that I had changed all the words to, to represent our last four months we had spent together. Because as Billy Joel says, “We didn’t start the fire, no we didn’t light it but were trying to fight it” relating the word fire to Injustice as a reflection on everything we have learned over the course of the semester. After the ceremony we had our final tea time with our dear friends from Visthar and said our goodbyes. We are all so sad to be leaving this place we have called home for so long, and to leave the people that have now become our family. We have taken our last steps on this semester long journey and are now, to say it plain and simply, going home.

The Tailor and Diwali

The festival Diwali is one of the biggest festivals of the year in India. It is a time where everyone goes out and buys new clothes. This is also the time that SJPDer’s are preparing to depart on our month long journey across India. I being the procrastinator that I am had yet to buy a sari and had to run out at the last minute to find one. I found one! However it wasn’t until I had to take it to the tailor that the real adventure began. Jericho and Devaney were with me and they had also purchased saris. Also we had to have them tailored that night because we were leaving the next day on our trip. So we are on a side street near Commercial Street and we walk in to this haven of tailoring, with every shop owner calling our name and trying to get the three white girls attention. We were finally grabbed by one and dragged up the stair to the second floor where it was even more overwhelming. There were sewing machines every 3 feet all working at full speed to get everyone’s outfits done. When we finally got to the appropriate cubical the tailor took our saris and first measured Dev then me then Jericho. I am glad the other two were there because when it came to saris I was clueless so Dev helped and told them I needed an under skirt thing and kind of took charge. So after our measurements they told us they would all be ready in 2 hours. So as planned we left and went to Hard Rock Café to eat dinner with the rest of our group. When we came back however they were still not done and we ended up sitting in the hallway of this crowded and narrow hallway while they finished. Dev started getting frustrated and Jericho and I started playing with the scraps of fabric that was coating the floors. In the end after finishing and then refinishing Dev’s sari 3 times we had are saris and left for home. To say the least I thank the Lord that I am not a tailor in India during Diwali.

Varanasi Blast

A low-medium intensity blast occurred on December 7th in Varanasi during the evening Ganga Aarti (Hindu religious prayer); a few days after the SJPD group was coincidentally at the same location to witness how the Aarti is practiced. Two individuals were killed and 20 injured; a stampede that occurred after the blast was a contributor to the numbers affected.

The Indian Mujahideen(IM) is a terrorist group which is Pakistan-based, and is strongly believed to be the culprit of this event.

It is very shocking to know that such an event happened only a few days after our visit in Varanasi, and at the same location we were at. It is interesting to note that the IM targeted such a touristy location and set the blast during the Ganga Aarti; stirring up a lot of controversy.

What some people do to get their voices heard is heartbreaking but reality at the same time.

Share a smile with someone because it can go a long way.

Frog Town?

This may sound weird to you to have a “Frog” Town right in St. Paul but it is true! Frog Town is made up of 91% Asian American and is culturally rich with shopping, dining, and easy access to both Minneapolis and St. Paul say Jonathan Steinwand. This is actually an area where me and my family shop and browse around at. Me and my new friend at the time, Jean-Paul, went on an excursion in this area and found many cool things.

I showed him the handmade fabric called Pan Dow which the Hmong uses in their traditional clothing. Then we ate at a Vietnamese restaurant that was fair in price. The food was good and the portion was too much! There were not too many people around this neighborhood because it was too early for people to start shopping in this neighborhood.

Looking back at this experience and comparing it to India, some would say that this area would be like a slum in India. Streets were still getting built and most of the buildings were in an “old-style” look. Most of the houses are rented or section 8 homes for poor families. So it is not as clean or nice as suburb or rural houses. And the funny thing is that this neighborhood is right next to the state capitol just like how the slum is next to the downtown area of Bangalore. This goes to show that a third world country and a highly “developed” country are not very different from each other.

 

Women and Villages in Zahirabad

November 9, 2010

We visited three villages today, well, we were supposed to, but one place had an unexpected death in their family. So we went to go explore Zahirabad’s shopping street for a while. First we talked to some women from the women self-help group called Sangam. They were talking about how they first got involved with the group and how their lives have changed since. Remembering back to the documentary we watched about the group, the women in Sangam created this system where they would take out loans to buy land and grow food like millets, wheat, and rice. They would keep enough food for their self and family then sell the rest to the villages. Then it would be divided upon the families who couldn’t afford to grow food for their family or self. After hearing the women’s stories, they invited us to go to their farm and see what was actually growing. It was nice to actually step on farmland for a while.

I was amazed by how strong these women were starting up their own business to sustain a healthy family but also contributing to the villagers who aren’t able to support their self or family. These women are not only creating a better life for themselves but also the community. They have empowered their self way beyond what the Sangam group wanted to do.

It seemed like a perfect community with such great pride of the women and the community. However, I became suspicious of the living situation between the men and women when the women commented that there were no issues involving men and women. When this was stated, I felt like there were some resistance between the men and women and they were keeping issues on the low. Maybe the women were afraid to admit any issues or maybe they didn’t feel the need to let a group of white students know. But in some way, it is understandable because who are we for them to talk about their personal problems to. They were only here to talk to us about their involvement in the Sangam group. Even though there might be some tension between the men and women, I think the Sangam group has encouraged them to take control of their life to be powerful women.

 

Remembering and reliving the life

December 5, 2010

My laptop adapter broke again when we were in Zahirabad. So today I went to go search for a new one at the electronic store where I got my last two adaptors that also broke. This means that I am off to another of my lone adventures. I was more confident this time going alone as a woman because I knew that even if the bus didn’t come, I could catch a bus in Kutunur. Last time I thought I missed the bus so I started walking and then all of a sudden the bus showed up. So I waved my hands and it stopped for me. And it also happened this time too which I consider myself to be very lucky! I got to my destination and walked to the store, which was closer than what I thought it would be. The same shopper guy was there and I explained again that my adaptor had died. He didn’t have the one I needed so I bought a universal adaptor for a bit more expensive but I also got a huge discount for always coming to his shop for adaptors. He agreed to sell me a 1700 Rs Huntley Universal Adaptor for only 900 Rs which was an amazing deal! I being happy for another successful day headed back while patiently waiting for the bus.

As I was walking from the bus stop to Visthar, I thought about how much of India I will miss when I return to the United States. The pot-holed dirt streets, the palm trees, the birds chirping, the crickets cricketing, weird insect noises, the horn of auto-rickshaws, the breeze, the warm and close to perfect weather, the dogs sleeping on the middle of the road, and just the fact that I’m in India. I’ve always imagined what it’ll feel like to live in an environment like this from seeing it in movies, especially Hmong movies made in Thailand. Now I was a character in one of the movies, walking and enjoying the dirt road. The only difference was that this is their reality and only a temporary place I called home. I live in the busy traffic, snowed, people who like to focus on their business only, busy life, time, time, time, and TIME world. Yes I love this life but the life of green grass, crickets cricketing, dirt roads, and palm trees all in one has settled my mind on not always being busy and relax sometimes. I was lazy before and now I’ve learned to live a little. Hopefully it’ll stay this way when I’m back.

 

Deja Vu

When we landed in Bangalore on December 5th after our month-long journey around the country, it felt like deja vu. It felt strangely familiar to our first arrival in India back in August. The terminal, walking out the front doors of the airport (JP having to play the role of the absent Jen this time), even the location of the vehicles next to the wild dogs, the drive to Visthar, and finally, what we now consider the familiar and homey mothball scented Visthar rooms which were spotlessly clean as we settled in again. It was all very strange, and pushed me into deep reflection as I sat in the back trunk of the jeep driving down the airport road again.

I watched the traffic, the buildings, the animals (mostly stray dogs), and the dark outlines of the coconut trees…trying to wrap my mind around how the heck we got from that first ride to Visthar to that moment. While we have experienced SO MUCH, I feel like I barely saw anything move. Yet, I’m still looking back at 3 1/2 months in India. There’s something that’s changed…I feel slightly older, more mature, more vibrant, more diverse, more confused, ….and even more I can’t quite put my finger on.

Some Final Thoughts…and Lessons Learned.

I was asked to write down the top ten lessons I have learned in India, and I am having a hard time.  Call me unstable, call me a mess, but I can’t go without some sort of strong emotional response…there is just so much on my heart and mind.  How do I sum things up?  Is that possible?  Should I even try?  Regardless of the questions, I think the process is an important one, so here goes nothing…

1.  Recognize, acknowledge, and admit that I am a part of the problem, whether I like it or not.  Dwell in this reality and be sure to let this existence inform and challenge as I live out my beautifully imperfect life.

2.  Ask questions of everything and keep the questions alive and relevant.  Don’t give away the burden of proof or the responsibility, but see the questions as part of my own journey and pursuit.

3.  Value family, friends, and important traditions.  Not just because you’re supposed to, but because these people and activities inform and teach us about the world in ways we simply can’t know through classes, books, etc.

4.  Detach from views, see life as the teacher.  Operating from a good vs. bad, legalistic, fundamental perspective is contributing to the pain in the world.  Don’t just blindly follow.

5.  Question why you have beliefs and whether or not holding them benefits you in any way.  If there is no benefit, drop the beliefs and start searching again.

6.  Science, technology, and efficiency are so overrated…don’t trust them as far as you can throw them, and don’t let them rule your experiences.  Know that other truths, identities, and lives are out there and they are realities as well.

7.  It may not be Buddhist, but dive fully, deeply, and emotionally into your thoughts, feelings, and ideas.  Once you do this, then you know these feelings and you can detch from them.  Sounds like I am some kind of expert…but don’t worry, I’m not…it just makes sense to me.

8.  Don’t “have” experiences…it is altogether unfulfilling and quite a waste.  Live in and fully “do” the experience because it will forever last with you.  Don’t see experiences as a competition piece-as who can “have” the best, wildest, etc.- but be open to the transformation that can come.

9.  Hold up the universe as a mirror of your soul.  You are reflected in your perceptions of the world and the interactions you have here.

10.  Time “wasted” well is time well spent.

So, there is the list for now…a product of four months, and arguably twenty-two years, of thought…and a constantly changing moment of now.