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May 31, 2007
just a few.
She is checking her cell phone. We are roaring down a road so packed and polluted with people and smog that the street corner a block away is invisible. Her little scooter weaves in and out of traffic; she doesn’t even seem to be guiding it, preoccupied with her latest text message. I am clenching her shoulders, a little scared but also entertained at the ridiculous places I seem to end up and the possibility of such an absurd death; if this is how my life is to end I expect a full campaign insisting on the end of scooter texting.
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My $150 purse is touching the bathroom floor. I am touching the floor. There is a cockroach watching me. I feel guilty for owning $150 purse. The majority of India could live on this for half a year. I am a bad person. Using this toilet is my penance.
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“What time is dinner?” I ask them. Neeru translates for Jogi and Jogi answers back. They keep talking. Jogi shakes her head and Neeru’s language suddenly boosts a few decibels. Jogi’s eyebrows raise, their voices both lower. They keep talking. They stop, shaking their heads.
“So what did you guys talk about?” I ask.
“Nothing,” she says. There is silence.
I still don’t know what time dinner is.
Posted by tvanderm at 10:40 PM | Comments (0)
Stream of consciousness.
In the dregs of Dastkar’s library I turned page after page until the tips of my fingers became black with dust. Belatedly discovering this treasure trove, I feverishly absorbed as much information as I could in my last few hours at the office this week; I was preparing for a trip to the Dastkar shop that works specifically with a women’s crafts group near Ranthambhore Reserve, in Rajasthan. The library shelves are full with annual reports, conference summaries from a gamut of social causes, and extra copies of educational media printed about crafts, bazaars, and even other NGOs. For now I am appreciating the scenery of this train ride; I am headed to northern hill-station town Mussoorie following an invitation by friends. Thus far I have received multiple warnings to take care of myself and be wary of the cool weather. I remind these “Aunties” that if anything this will be closer to my natural habitat, noting it snowed for the last time two weeks before my departure to India.
There are some distinct mars in the landscapes we pass. Mingled amongst the trees and in the distance beyond green pastures and golden fields are tall, circular stacks that raise high into the skyline. Black fumes respire from their coal-stained mouths. With little productivity to be seen, no other dependent buildings in sight. I wonder to what end the monsters compromise our air, land, and water.
Today I read in the Hindustan Times that a recent study from the U.S. found that really friendly people, or antagonistic ones, tend to sleep around more. It cracks me up to see this article comprises the input of news from the U.S.
On the way to the station I saw a dog chasing a monkey through the streets. This was almost as cool as when an elephant nonchalantly walked by my window as I checked my mail in a local internet café. Now if I can just find one to ride…
Embedding yourself in a foreign cultural system isn’t just about learning on an interpersonal microlevel. I find myself utterly confused about how economic and social systems work on a macro scale. I am totally clueless to how legislature actually comes to pass here. So often we rely on the government to regulate and protect us, but what if the basic premise of a governmental system is flawed? Also in the Hindustan Times was a picture of melting Mt. Everest. In just forty years the state of the world has been irrevocably compromised, beyond repair in our lifetimes. I actually am quietly terrified that we are destroying the planet and our futures. The people who have the resources to care don’t because they can easily navigate around the destruction. Can you really “be the change” and take private taxis everywhere? Can you “be the change” and eat at world-renowned luxury restaurants that import half of the foods found in the kitchen? I feel guilty.
Additionally, I am confused about the reality of state-to-state relationships, the consequences of Western media on developing and malleable worlds, and the essential contributions of globalization to the state of humanity and the planet.
Any answers?
Theresa
PS. THERE IS NOW CONFLICT IN RAJASTHAN. First the Punjab, now this! Updates to come.
Posted by tvanderm at 10:22 PM | Comments (0)
May 30, 2007
To Vijayawada with the Race Car Driver
Every time I have gotten the chance to travel to one of the cities in the area, I have taken it. Wandering around aimlessly and people-watching has been one of my favorite pass-time activities here. The city truly expresses the beauty of Indian culture.
After starting the Chevy turbo SUV, Kumar reached across the seats and opened up the door. I hopped in ready to go to Vijayawada. Crossing through the gate, honking to the security guard, Kumar revved the engine and began to accelerate. I asked him if he had any music, and he flipped on a Telugu, techno sounding song with a good beat. Shifting up a gear and continuing to honk his horn, he passed auto after auto, approaching 90 kl/hr. The horn seemed to be an important indicator used almost excessively to notify the slower bike, motorcycle, or auto rickshaw that he was passing him. He constantly switched lanes, not even fully driving in either lane at times. As he glided into the right lane, we saw a truck approaching us. Kumar quickly flashed his brights on and off and accelerated through the gap between it and the auto to get into the open left lane. I felt as though I was in a chase scene from a movie.
With planes of dried grasses and soil ending in mountain like hills, with the Indian music pumping out the bass, with the many little bikes, autos, and motorcycles, with the fast driving and passing, with the little thatched huts on the side of the road, with the cows crossing in front of us, and with the sun setting over the hills, I realized, ‘Wow, I am in India.’ My body reacted to the rush I felt in seeing and hearing new things as a chill spread through me, leaving goosebumps as a result. The natural high was unreal. Moving my head to the beat of the music, I looked at Kumar. As he met eyes with me, he bluntly stated, “My talent is driving.” Chuckling, I returned my attention to the road to continue to absorb the rush as it flew at me.
Out of the little city, Mangalagiri, we began to speed through a rural village with tall green leafed trees hanging over the road to make a natural arch. Many more thatched huts now lined the road with men and women sitting, standing, and bartering for goods. In our seemingly different world of the air conditioned car, I’m sure we rushed by in a blur, too fast for these locals to notice; the Autobahn like road seemed to suck us through the area.
Looking to the other side of the approaching dam, I could see the dormant volcano more closely; the view of the temple that rested on the side of it became crisper. The large blue building seemed more intriguing than before. I decided I was going to visit it on a later date. Pulling out my camera, I wanted to capture the beauty of the sun setting over the Krishna River. Kumar noticed it and kindly pulled over while flipping the emergency lights on. I didn’t expect him to stop and it made the experience all the better.
Looking out, from the middle of the dam, the sun spewed its orange pinkish glow to the clouds that engulfed it. It still shed enough light on the little green islands and boats fishing in the river, to see them. Kumar pointed to the island in front of us and said “Buffalo. They swim back and forth.” Still trapped in the euphoria manifested by each of my overloaded senses, I could only reply with: “This is beautiful.” I felt like an explorer discovering an unknown land that he spent months searching for. For me, it was a discovery seeing a different part of the world. It was something I had dreamt about since I was a child.
Switching my gaze to the opposite side, I could see the bustling city of Vijayawada—our destination to come. I had my list ready to guide our shopping. It read: tea, fruit, a power converter for my lap top, white pants, and white button down shirts. I needed to fit the white dress code of the nurses in the hospital.
After slowly creeping through the busy city roads, pulling out in front of motorcycles and busses to cross many of the stop-lightless roads, we parked in a parking garage. Walking up and flipping the garage worker five rupees, we began to venture into the exciting Indian streets. Many men could be seen wearing their lungis, the traditional skirt like clothing article of the area. Some of these men walked bare foot, some smoked bidis, and some rested on their cardboard beds on the side of the road.
As we headed for the electrical shops, a cow walked in front of us blocking our path. Cows roaming the streets is a new one in my book of experiences. Walking around it, I glanced at the different vendors; it seemed like every kind of item could be found.
Walking up to the road, memories of my first Indian road crossing in Hyderabad flashed through my head. I remembered seeing hundreds of cars flying at me as I tried to cross, with busses driving by me to miss squashing my toes by a foot. No one ever stopped unless they couldn’t get around you. Everyone seemed to be very skilled in passing and riding within inches of each other.
Kumar read my rising anxiety and grabbed my hand to pull me through the rush of vehicles. It was a strange feeling having a man hold my hand; it was something I was not used to in America. It is a different cultural practice that may sound a bit strange to some people, but is natural and common among Indian men. Most of these men are not homosexual, they are friends. You will see more men holding hands than women and men. I learned from talking with my older nursing supervisor friend, K.B., that sex is somewhat hidden from the public. The older generations seem to have a conservative view of male-female relations when compared to American standards.
At lunch one day, referring to sex, an older man asked me, “Did you have physical contact with your last girlfriend?” I said, “I didn’t, but people do.” He continued, “How do you keep from pregnancy?” “Well…,” I said, “…many people use condoms as a preventative measure.” Because he led a required HIV/Aids continuing education course for the nurses of the hospital, it was quite clear that he knew of condoms—I just think that he was interested in the sometimes popular perception of young Americans and their sex escapades. I too was interested in ideas of sex and relationships, but in the Indian culture, so the conversation was well worth the time.
Back to the city, as Kumar continued to pull me around at different points throughout the night, I ended up checking off most of the items on my list. It was a successful and exciting first shopping experience in India with my mostly Telugu speaking guide. The moments of hand holding and shopping bag carrying, made me feel a little strange, but I embraced the difference and accepted the new sign of friendship.
With little time to reflect on everything I experienced during the evening, my focus shifted back to the resumed race home to NRI. The ride was just as exciting as the drive there with the added element of darkness. I was glad that Kumar could see so well at night. His eyes seemed to enable him to dodge people riding their cruiser bikes and navigate in and out of flashing head lights that glared at us, without difficulty.
As the bright red neon NRI hospital sign came into view, I quickly thanked God for letting us survive. Making it through the crazy city streets seemed like a blessing. Looking at Kumar, truly amazed by his job well done, I said, “You actually should become a race car driver.”
I hope all is well in America. If you are interested in checking out some photos from my trip, please click on this link http://www.flickr.com/people/a10india Take Care.
Chris
Posted by caten at 09:28 AM | Comments (0)
May 29, 2007
Test
Hi everyone,
Just testing out the blog for now.
I am very very excited about my trip and just busy getting ready for it.
Hope everyone is having an awesome time in India and attempting to stay
cool!
~Nidhi
Posted by nidchaud at 02:10 PM | Comments (0)
May 28, 2007
"A society for crafts and craftspeople"
Who knew that combing through crumbling dusty files that seem to have been untouched for years could be so beneficial or enlightening? This week I have managed to make the most of my time in Delhi, having left the troubles of the Punjab. Working with Dastkar, a society devoted to crafts and craftspeople, has provided a helpful transition into the NGO (non-governmental organization) sector. Their focus is “linking skills and markets, bringing cultures, communities and gender, creating earning and empowerment.” I rather like my new desk job. I am free to follow whichever leads or whims I am curious about, and have been taking meticulous notes regarding what I see as the development of a well-run, professional, and progressive organization. Initially I felt very silly walking into the office with my little two-page proposal as if it were some sort of badge of achievement. I can laugh now as I have learned so much, even in just one week. Microfinance, women’s empowerment, organizing the informal economy, and even the education of girls are not progressive ideas here. Dastkar has been working with them for 25 years as have many organizations they work with such as SEWA.
For the past few days I have been pouring over Dastkar’s files regarding SEWA (Self-Employed Women’s Association). The close relationship that developed between Dastkar and various sub-groups within the SEWA organization has provided me with insight into how NGO’s function not as separate entities, but also specialized units which may help and depend on one another. Furthermore, I have been privy to the internal miscommunications that occasionally arise between groups. The everyday focus of the Dastkar is pretty task-oriented so my goal is to try to find out how these operations fit into the structure and long-term goals of the organization.
I have made a couple different side trips this week. They include a trip to Dilli Haat, a space where craftspeople may sell their wares, as well as the local Crafts Museum, where I spent a few hours checking out old texts.
As of now I am in the process of planning field visits to Dastkar groups, specifically one located on the Ranthambhore Reserve in Rajastan. To my amazement the Dastkar group shop where local women vend their wares is even noted in my Lonely Planet! Apparently when the reserve was originally founded local peoples who were dependent upon the land for subsistence were suddenly faced with a resource crisis. Dastkar has helped ease this unfortunate consequence of land preservation by converting many individuals who were dependent on inconsistent agricultural production for economic support to craft production. The project has met with considerable success and was even featured on the BBC in 2002.
In other news I have been gifted a magic wireless internet card that works everywhere in India. !!!. Look forward to more regular updates.
Posted by tvanderm at 03:38 AM | Comments (0)
May 25, 2007
Indian Wedding
Monday and back to work at YRG Care! I was excited to be back because I'm starting to fall in love with everyone here, I feel like we are all one big family.
No internet today so I helped out with a translating project. WOW this is quite the project I must say. Its really hard because I can barely understand the English that this boy uses, and I must put it into presentable English. We are working on a domestic violence project review. It is really interesting and I’m learning a lot about the way in which Indian culture views gender differences. Like women are not supposed to drink, smoke, work outside of the house, get remarried, etc… It’s a rough life.
My very first Indian wedding! I went with ama, apa and tha tha and we all headed over to the reception. Lets see where to start. You could stop this place from a mile away with the glittery frills and lights and music and commotion. We pulled up and had to go up a bunch of steps to a room filled with hundreds of people facing the front of the room here there sat 2 thrones and a big cake. I was the only anglo-indian as they might call me ;) I felt out of place because I wasn’t wearing a saree but I just got over it and sat. There were old school camera men with old lights and lots of great decorations. We sat in pastic chairs and althoguht it was really unorganized I think everything that needed to get done got done. Lots of pictures, and then music, and lastly we heading up for a feast.
Now the dining room was the crazy crazy experience. I couldn’t move to get to the stop of the stairs, but once I got up there I realized I was being followed by a very handsome Indian boy. Him and his friends were trying to be discrete. We waiting for probably 20 minutes to even find a seat. They cleared people in and out as fast as they could and it was absolute chaos. As we sat down for food they rolled out a big mat and place banana leaves in front of us. Next was a cup of water in which you washed your right hand (with is the only hand that you eat right) and then you rinsed off the banana leave and wiped the best you could. Boys came around with 3 different sauces and lastly, topped it off with biriani. It was the most deliecious Indian food I have ever tasted. One sauce was a banana paste, one was a spicier curry, and the last was the goat milk and onion. After a few minutes of eating, aunti was explaining the sauces to me and she something about goat. I said yes I remember this one is goats milk. She said yes you are right that is goats milk, “but this” she said as she picked up a huge hunk of meat, “this is some goat”… I just had to grin and swallow that last bite and say, “wow, I don’t eat goat in the states…”
Posted by saraba at 07:24 AM | Comments (1)
The Thread Project and Bay of Bengal
So Mercy (the girl I live with) and I put our heads together to come up with an idea of a project that will help women without a job. She knows 15 women who desperately need to support their families and we want to help. We decided to start something called the Thread Project. It will provide each woman with a sewing machine and monthly supplies and training. I am working on raising money for this project and its been a lot of work but I am super excited about it. All my free time seems to be going towards the Thread Project:)
I interviewed Beaula, one of the church members, about our upcoming Thread project. She was wearing the most beautiful saree I have ever seen, and I've seen a lot of sarees by now! It was purple and had multi colored flowers all over it, each with a jewel in the center… colorful but not cheesy and overdone. It was simply perfect, just like her. She shared with us her hard life as a seamstress, but with God’s help she was provided a sewing machine. She was such a beautiful woman, it was hard to see her talking deeply about her struggles.
Mercy and I worked on the thread project all day long. Typing newsletter and editing photos and really mapping out our dream for the project.
Later in the evening about 15 of us piled in the bus and started on our way out to the beach, about an hour away. On the way the older children’s home girls sang songs in english for me! I love hearing Tamils sing in English… it was awesome. When we arrived at the beach, Salomi, one of the oprphan girls clung to my hand. I was so excited because I remember her face from the pictures Roy sent me before coming here. She has a face, especially those eyes, that someone can never forget. You meet her once and she will stick with you forever.
At the bay of Bengal the girls from the orphanage grabbed me and thre me into the bay. We were all wearing dresses and sarees and the warm waves would splash so far up that they would touch our faces. One girl grabbed my hand and did not let go during the entire time we were in the bay. Every new waves she would plug her nose, mention to me that we were “going” and pull me under a big wave! The girls were screaming, and actually probably truly afraid because none of them can swim. It is crazy to me because I can’t think of anyone I know that doesn’t know how to swim… they don’t really do that here I guess!
Sitting up on the shore I hear salomi’s story. She is living in the childrens home because Salomis father rejected her and her mother after her mother came home from the hospital with a baby girl. Her father only wanted strong boys in his family, and so he kicked them out when she was only days old. After that they were having to fend for themselves, but luckily they found the childrens home. Her and her mother stay there now, her mother helping out dailiy with the children, and Salomi gets to stay with her mother.
I looked behind me and the sky was vibrant with organge and red colors in the Indian sunset. I was thinking abouthow beautiful it was and now it’s a calming time as the day is ending, but how the day is just starting in the states! The sun is leaving us now, and it is rising somewhere else in a distant land clearly all the way across the earth and that is where my home is. Shortly thereafter I looked down into the sand to notice hundreds of holes, and wow, LOTS OF LITTLE CRABS! Literally… I could count 10 right then and there. It was CRAZY and I was freaked out, and after that I did not sit in the sand.
We all gathered outside the van to dry off our clothes as much as we could, and we all ate ice cream. YUCK I can’t believe I have to get back into this car in the hot hot weather, all wet and sticky with sand and bay of Bengal water. It was absolutely disgusting. But van was full of love allthe way back to the house, but I have never felt so uncomfortable riding with so many people in the hot weather in the traffic and pillution and loudness and damp salty nastiness. It really can’t get much nastier. As I am sitting there clastrophonicly I hear a faint voice in the back. “Halleluah” it starts, quietly, then again “halleluah....” as it rises an entire octave to a note that I couldn’t be able to hit if my life depended on it, and it continued into a beautiful song. Stephen knew how to turn the situation into something truly beautiful.
Posted by saraba at 07:16 AM | Comments (0)
Do not forget me.
After a short day at the office, I set off on a mission to what I thought was a nearby village. To be honost, I knew that we were going to visit some children that were part of a children’s home, and conduct some kind of a program… but I didn’t really KNOW. All I know is I felt COMPLETELY sick, and I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it, all I wanted to do was be in my bed and sleep. After about two hours in the car and already passing the point of car sickness, I was starting to feel better, but wondering if we will ever arrive to this place. We drove through the most crowded high way I have ever seen, and I couldn’t stand looking out the window anymore, I needed to fall asleep. Everytime I woke up I told myself, oh it can only be about 10 more minutes, and hours later we arrived.
We drove into the village as the sun awas setting and all the kids were ready to go with the program. Immediately the girls started acting out a drama, followed by some adorable little boys with some skits. I got to talk a little bit with the children as Mercy translated, until it started to rain. They were so happy that we came all this way to visit with them, but unfortuantley we only stayed for about 30 minutes. Upon leaving one boy came up to talk to me in perfect English, he introduced himself ( and I have forgotten his name of course), and said to me 4 simple words that I will never forget, “Do not forget me”.
Posted by saraba at 07:06 AM | Comments (0)
World AIDS Vaccine Day
I had to get to work today so early! Today we had a big program planned for World AIDS Vaccine Day. At 3 locations there would be counseling and training sessions for the village communities about the vaccine project. The first location was at the vaccine center and close to 20 people attended. Anandan gave a presentation about HIV, AIDS and the Vaccine and its importance. BBC News came to film the event, but the news crew is much different here than in the United States. They would stop the speaker in the middle of his presentation to refilm parts, when it is their fault that they didn’t get the shot right in the first place. They were disracting and disrupting the presentation. I was very aggravated with them, but apparently this is normal.
I met a little boy named Rohit! The next stop was one of the villages. I had been to this village before and many of the people recognized me. It was scorching hot, and since the room was so full, I stood outside and found the tiniest bit of shade that I could beneath the ledge of a building. I smiled at the village children that were swarming around me. They were just trying to get one touch of me. I talked with another researcher from YRG Care and he expressed how thankful I he is that I have chosen to come spend my time in India. But I was thanking him for such a valuable experience! The women who discovered HIV in India even attended. It was awesome to say the least.
After our sessions, all the researchers and staff from YRG Care gathered together for a huge Indian lunch. Now this was an experience. There was a room filled from corner to corner with a huge Indian lunch buffet…most of this Indian food I haven’t even seen before. When I arrived late, people were eating standing up, heads leaning over their plates, and of course eating with their hands. It was very quiet also. It was one of the most awkward feelings ever… of course I already felt like an outcast, but now I had no idea where to even start.
The funny thing is, there was an entire banquet room filled with chairs (but no tables) for people to sit, but everyone stands to eat. Let me tell you, it is really hard to eat rice with your hands, and even harder when you are holding up your plate with the other hand. I had to meet many people over the course of that lunch, and altogether it was awkward. My friend Margaret told me that I eat slow. Well I am not so good at this Indian eating situation yet as you can see.
I met a bunch of researchers that are my age ( or at least they looked my age) who are doing their masters degrees and it was great to talk to them. Next week I will be going to their University and they are going to show me the Indian University experience… I’m thinking it must be something worth seeing because they each probably asked me a total of 18 times to come.
Posted by saraba at 07:02 AM | Comments (0)
May 24, 2007
A People's Hospital
Getting to know the NRI hospital the past few days, I have come to the realization that it is truly driven by what matters the most, the people. This hospital opened up around four years ago as a place to help the generally poor area. The NRI, non resident Indian, directors saw that this area was in need and began the building process.
Without perfection in mind, the hospital has continued to operate throughout the process of construction. One can look out one of the open air windows, suiting the environment in which it is built, and see blocks falling as men work on the upper levels. Glancing down from the executive office’s corridor into the open entrance way, bamboo, or some sort of local wood made brace, supports the entrance way. Men on little stools sit and saw pieces of plywood that they will continue to apply to the structure.
Looking into the same entrance way, many poor and well-off Indians alike stand in their colorful dresses and saris waiting to purchase their drugs and to pay the nominal fee for their treatment. These patients and their families only pay around 100 rupees for the materials that are used. One hundred rupees is around two dollars and a half with the exchange rate. The treatment, however, is more often than not free, unless it involves surgery.
Walking up the stairs towards my preceptor’s office, one can see many families eating their home cooked meals. They have traveled far and can’t afford the cafeteria. Accommodating their needs further, the hospital allows them to spend the night on the floors since there are not enough places to stay outside of the hospital. No security guard kicks them out at night to make due in the streets.
The workers that water the unnatural, green grass and plants sporadically placed throughout the facility can be found in thatched houses living just beyond the bordering wall. They walk through a chain-link door to get purified hospital water for their families and exit the grounds to return to their homes. It is a relationship of sharing between the hospital and these workeres.
All of these examples are some of the many things that this hospital does for the people of the area. It isn’t driven by money as the American health care system is, it is true to the nature of caring. Its primary profit is made through the pharmacy that sold me five different drugs for 100 rupees; I felt like I stole the drugs. There is something here the American health care system can learn from.
The American priorities may seem in line building huge new hospital complexes with the latest technology, but is it necessary? Is the care the NRI hospital is providing that much different than the care our high budgeted hospital provides at the University of Michigan? Some may say yes, but observing the wards, I would say no; I have witnessed many people treated brilliantly. It takes a certain amount of resourcefulness and adaptability, but care is provided, none the less, without spending people’s life’s savings.
For now, I have to go. I will write about exciting experiences next time. Take Care!
Chris
Posted by caten at 02:56 AM | Comments (0)
May 23, 2007
Sarah Arrives at the Orphanage
Wow. It's hard to believe I actually have come this far. But I'm here at Udayan, taking care of adorable children all day long. The language gap is extremely difficult. Not many of the children know any English, and the ones that do know very little. I was incredibly amazed at how quickly the children took to us. They welcomed us into their lives like no one I've ever encountered. My new thing is dressing their wounds. As children, they are bound to have cuts and scrapes every now and then, and they love the attention we give them when we "fix" them. Even some of the adults there come to me now with problems thinking I'm a doctor or something. I'm glad I've found something useful I can do....though trust me when I say that I'm taking every precaution, just in case. Most of the staff speak little to no English as well, but we're getting by, trying very hard to learn as much Hindi as we can as fast as possible. We all miss our guide, Rajan, because Indian life was made quite easy with him around...he spoke the language and knew where to find things. We're planning on spending more time with him later as he also became our good friend. We watched Home ALone in Hindi yesterday, and it was a treat. It always feels good to see something or someone familiar. The orphanage is located in a desert, so it gets really really hot there during the day, but it cools down at night. Usually we sleep on cots outside, and the sky is so clear. We lay under the stars and talk until we fall asleep. It's excellent because we have the chance to feel cold instead of sweating all of our inner organs out. The children usually take the afternoons to rest and stay inside because of the heat, though the inside is usually much hotter than the outside. The electricity only comes on for a few hours a day, if at all, so the fans rarely work. In the mornings, Raaj, Elysia and I do crafts or games with the kids to give the other staff a break. We've been coming up with plans ahead of time and preparing the night before so it's a little less chaotic the next day. The kids are just adorable. The youngest is about 3 and the oldest will be about 17 or 18. Some of the children are staying at Udayan because their parents are too poor to take care of them. They go to visit every now and then. They were gone when we arrived but will be coming back now. I'm excited to meet them, but it's difficult because I'm just now learning names of the 20-some kids that are there already. I can only hope they take to us as the others have. The three of us had quite an adventure last night. We went into Jaipur for a day off, but we didn't know for sure where the office was where we were staying. We rode around in a Rickshaw for about 2 hours searching. The driver stopped and asked a billion people. One time when we were stopped this nice silver car pulled up offering to help. The guys in it said they knew where it was but would not give our driver directions...they would only help if we got in their car. Raaj and I were like, No way man. Elysia was more ready to trust them, but after Raaj and I explained our worries she saw exactly what we were talking about. We tried to call the number of the office but they thought we were a prank call. Eventually we figured out that the address on the paper we had was the wrong address and made it back to the office. This was around 11 or 12 at night, mind you, so it was quite scary. We found out in the morning that our situation was considered an emergency and that we shouldn't have felt bad about calling the lead lady and having her help us. So it was chaotic, but we learned from it, we had an adventure, and we'll never repeat the mistake again. Things are getting much better at the orphanage as we fall into a routine and get to know the kids better. I think the next few days will be chaotic because of the kids coming back from home. I'm working hard and trying to learn as much as I can. I'll be honest and say that I miss American food...right now it's ice cream because we don't get cold drinks so much at the orphanage, and I need a refresher every now and then. But yes, I love cuddling those kids and I'm trying to give them as muchlove and care as I can. I hope all is well where you are. Please believe me when I say that I miss you all. Enjoy the air conditioning.
Much Love,
Sarah :)
Posted by sarahsim at 02:08 AM | Comments (0)
May 21, 2007
I Made it to India!
I made it to India! With delayed flights, lost baggage, and no sleep, I enjoyed the whole process; it was an adventure. The majority of the people in Andhra only speak Telugu which made non-verbal communication essential. Luckily, English is the teaching medium here at the NRI medical and nursing school.
My flight was delayed ten hours from Bombay to Hyderabad which made for a confusing experience in Hyderabad without a guide. Besides navigating the cities, the train ride from Hyderabad to Vijayawada, Andhra Pradesh, was the most interesting. Eventually, I made it into one of the train cars heading towards Vijayawada, the neighboring city to the NRI Health Sciences Center.
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Learning the Non-Verbal Language
Boarding the train car with only a minute to spare, I couldn’t find a seat. People were stacked on top of each other. Asking two young men, who were sitting in the open doorway, “Are you going to sit there,” I realized that they didn’t not speak English and that I would have a unique experience. Having already checked three different train cars, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to find an open seat in this one either. Glancing over one cubby of the car, I noticed a young man sitting on a luggage rack and an empty one across from him. I quickly, without asking, put each hand on the opposite rack, and propelled myself through the air to land square on my new seat. It was not a terribly comfortable seat for the six hour train ride form Hyderabad to Vijayawada but it would have to do.
Examining my seat, I noticed that there were many steel bars forming the rack with skinny pieces of wood bridging the gaps between the bars, altogether making it about five feet long. Placed on top of the rack, to make a more comfortable seat, there was a tan blanket with many black swirl designs; the only problem was that I didn’t place it there. To secure my assumption that it was a taken seat, a little red duffel bag rested on the other side of the rack.
Temporarily ignoring the blanket, I looked up to make eye contact with the smiling young man. He was about twenty years old, skinny, with short, black, slicked back hair. I could see the wonder in his eyes as he gazed at me. Had he not seen a white person before, or was he just interested? Who knows. I smiled and waved to him, returning the greeting.
He must have seen me looking at my seat because he motioned towards the bag on top of the blanket and with an open palm, moved his hand through the air, shrugged, and simultaneously shook his head up and down—all of these actions assuring my proper selection. I smiled and nodded back, beginning to shift my weight into a more comfortable position.
Walking up to the cubby, a skinny, around 5 foot 6 inch, 60 year old man appeared. As if preparing for a gymnastic maneuver, he too grabbed the luggage rack’s bars and threw himself up onto the seat. He looked at me with his aged, narrow face and shot me a slightly angry and confused look. It was clear that I had invaded his space, but I played dumb and spoke a few English words to see if he could understand. He didn’t understand my English and I didn’t understand his returned Telugu remarks, but I understood his gestures. While frowning, he moved his hand through the air, finishing by pointing away from me and the luggage rack; he clearly wanted me to leave.
Looking for some support for my new seat, I glanced across at the young man, smiled, and shrugged, questioning whether I should keep the seat or not. He returned my smile and moved his head sideways as if telling me that the old man didn’t know what he was talking about; the young man was clearly on my side, helping me keep my seat. I ran with his support and ignored the old man.
As the train began to move, the old man sprawled out on his right side and spread his feet towards me. Since I took part of his makeshift bed, I moved over a bit. Now looking at the young man, he pointed at the old man, smiled, and shook his head, reassuring me that I would be alright. Either way, I knew that the stubborn old man did not need the whole bench and could share with an unknowing foreigner.
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After the long train ride, I made it to the hospital safe and sound. I’m having a blast so far and I just met some cool med student to hang out with once they are done with their exams. I will post more experiences soon. Take Care
Chris
Posted by caten at 01:27 AM | Comments (0)
May 19, 2007
Bindis, 2 Speed Bumps and a lot of LOVE
Today at work the women turned and stuck a bindi on my forehead, also knows at the little “dot”. I didn’t really know how to respond, they all just thought it was really cute I guess. If I took it off would they be offended? Isn’t it sacrilegious for me to wear this if I’m not Hindu? Well regardless I just went along with it….
This evening I went out to the village with Maggie and Jessie. It was later in the evening and when we got to the village the sun was starting to set. This is what I pictured India to be like. I have been in a bubble, for where I live is a more wealthy part of town. In the village all the people were gathered around these large black water jugs, filling up smaller cartons of water for 1 rupee. One rupee is approximately 2 cents. Everyone was gathered because this is the only time of day they are able to get access to water in this village. We walked around the city and Jessie introduced me to the CPOL members, and these were people that are part of our research project who have been trained in domestic violence, HIV/AIDS, and gender issues to help educate their community. They are peacemakers. There are 10 women and 10 men in each community, and there are 40 communities involved in this project. As I wandered through the city, the children flocked to me, probably the only white blonde person they have ever seen. They would touch my arm really fast when I would turn my head, and then giggle. Many of them walked so close so they could find some way to touch me, I felt like Jesus when we went to the villages and people were healed when they touched only a piece of his robe. Expect I was not an instant healer. I hope by the end of my time here I can provide more healing to them.
Women were scrubbing their saris in buckets of soapy water, children were chasing each other through the dusty streets, and some girls were preparing dinner that was fish soaking in an old rusty bucket. Everywhere I looked there were dogs carrying hundreds of diseases, wasting away you could see their thin frames. Luckily, the children didn’t look the same. For the most part, they looked like they were getting adequate nutrition and healthcare… at least from what I saw.
Cows roamed the streets and ate anything they could find, which probably wasn’t much. A little girl probably not more than 3 years of age was carrying a pile of sticks in a pink tee shirt. She will return later.
One of the CPOL couples invited us up for hot milk tea… yes of course it is over 100 degrees in this second story apartment, but of course I’ll take some boiling hot tea. That’s refreshing. We sat on the floor mat after leaving our shoes at the door. This hole in the wall apartment consisted of a bed made out of a board, with some clothes bunched together for pillows, an old sewing machine, some trinkets, lots of gold statues and jewelry, and an old dusty Sony TV. It may not have been luxurious, but the people were truly beautiful.
Wandering then again through the village we stopped to purchase bangles, and some more jasmine flowers that women are selling everywhere on the streets. They wear these little white flowers in their hair and it fills an entire room with a beautiful scent. We went up to the top of a building where there was a bible school taking place, and about 50 children sang me a welcoming song as the sun was now about to set over this community in Chennai. They clapped and sang, and could hardly sit due to their joy. It was an incredible feeling to say the least.
We made our way out of the village, and I have never felt so dirty. I was hot, the streets were dirty, I had stepping in who knows what, and then riding through all this polluted air. The ride is painful because these autos have no shocks, they are like little go-karts and the speed bumps are 3 in a row. That’s 3 times to damage to my fragile body at this point. I just want my bed! I don’t think I will be clean and rested until I get home, but I’m ok with that.
As I was dropped off Jessie handed me some more bindis. I accepted hesitantly yet graciously…and thanked her. I am more than thankful for the bindis, I am thankful for her eagerness to share her ways of life with me. “Nandri Jessie”.
I hope this works
PHOTOS: LINK: http://www.flickr.com/photos/8067575@N04/
Posted by saraba at 04:44 AM | Comments (0)
Peace out Punjab
And just in time. The Sikh conflict in North India has spread to the city I was staying in, an industrial town in southern Punjab, Ludhiana. There I spent some time at a girl's polytechnic institute, thinking this would provide a medium for me to get to know more self-employed women and learn a little about the skills they gain through education. I have since realized this was not a beneficial venture for my research. I met many future-homemakers and women who are more fortunate than most involved with the rural self-employed women's movement.
I had planned to move further north in Punjab to a small city near Amritsar on Wednesday. There I was to do a tour of five different cooperative groups who are the recipients of governmental microfinancial support. Needless to say, after hearing about the conflict within the Sikh community I, sadly, decided to cancel and/or delay the tour. Unable to gauge the severity of the situation and my own risk I am bowing to the age-old adage, better safe than sorry.
It is difficult for me to wrap my mind around the total conflict that is occuring in the Punjab. I know that there have been accusations that these eruptions of violence are actually closely related to the political situation in Punjab. An older friend told me that this whole conflict may be a ploy to divide the Sikhs, utilizing propoganda, so that they do not gain political power in Punjab, a similar tactic employed by the British in order to maitain India as a vassal state years ago. The papers say that the coflict has arisen within the Sikh community because one sect has unpardonably caused offense to the rest. The leader of the Dera Sacha Saudsa group has, according to the accusations, imitated in style and dress a former Sikh guru. Apparently this is bad news.
The complexities of this religious/political situation are semi-overwhelming. All I know is that now I am back in Delhi trying to get back on track with my research after this set-back. I have a priomising meeting with a cooperative craft group, Dastkar, on Monday. www.dastkar.org. Because my project is a comparative study that examines the many manifestations of the broader self-employed women's movement I really need to begin working with a larger organization that facilitates this as I've completed a lot of work with women who are working independently unaided by the support of larger group.
SEWA, Self Employed Women's Association at www.sewa.org, has been responsive since my arrival in India. Yet, they are focused in Gujarat and working with them would require me to travel to Ahmedabad. While I am incredibly excited to gain some insight into this phenomenal NGO I am slightly concerned that I will be dividing my time too much and will do an injustice to either group with short two-week stays at both of them, especially because they are in different provinces. Does anyone have any insight into this?
The Sant Nirankari Mission, www.nirankari.org, has done a fantastic job facilitating my research in any way I require. The initial few weeks of my project included touring their tailoring and embroidery centers. While I have moved on with my work I have continued to stay at their many bhawans, which are located across the country and the world. So don't worry about this seeming transience. I have had guidance the whole way through.
In other news, Sara and I are planning a weekend trip to Corbett Tiger Reserve. Upon telling my dad he sent me this...
http://www.break.com/index/tiger_attacks_dude_in_truck.html
hah! I think some of the affect was lost on me because I saw it in a 10 Rupee (about 25 cents) per-hour internet cafe. Every 5 seconds or so the stream would buffer and I would wait another 10 to see the continued image. Tiger is less scary suspended in air for a minutes and a half.
Wish us luck, send your advice.
Theresa
Posted by tvanderm at 03:23 AM | Comments (1)
May 15, 2007
Sarah's Sightseeing Extravaganza
Hey all.
I've been busy the past few days travelling all about the "Golden Triangle," which includes Dehli, Agra and Jaipur. I'm in Jaipur now, and tomorrow I will go to the orphanage. I met the founders yesterday, though, and the orphanage sounds like an amazing place. Apparently they have dogs there, which is excellent because it takes so much energy to avoid all of the cute little doggies on the street. I've met so many nice people who are interested in knowing what we're doing here and where we're from. So many people have been extremely welcoming and friendly. I saw the Taj Mahal two days ago, and my goodness was it surreal. (Madame, it was like seeing the Eiffel Tower in real life!) We've also seen quite a few other beautiful sites, and yesterday had elephant and camel rides. Elephants are magical, aren't they? I'm so excited to go to the orphanage tomorrow. Apparently the kids get really excited when the volunteers come and I'm ready to embark upon the adventure of a lifetime. I only hope I don't come home with a kid in each arm and a dog strapped to my back. After learning more about the orphanage yesterday, I'm so much less nervous than I've been over the past several months. I only hope that I can make a difference for these children. The electricity comes on for only 8 hours a day out there, so I'll sure be roughing it. I hope everyone back home enjoys the air conditioning. Thanks for loving messages from home...they make the distance seem much shorter than it actually is and it's great to know that you have people who back you up. I'm excited to write again to let you know more about the orphanage.
Much Love,
Sarah
Posted by sarahsim at 02:00 PM | Comments (0)
Lets Cure HIV shall we?
My first day of my internship started today, and it is in this sort of gated neighborhood called Alsa Gardens which is really a nice place away from the busy city roads. As I was dropped off I got really nervous because many people started asking me questions in broken English, and then there was police officer, and then I was following some man and 3 more ladies piled in this tiny elevator… everyone is speaking Tamil and at this point I wish I knew something! Turns out the man knew exactly who I was and I was relieved to finally meet Sethu and Vadu with whom I have been communicating the past few months. WOW what a relief to see this place! YRG Care has excellent facilities, including air conditioning and toilet paper and soap! As I began talking with Sethu, she gave me more information than I ever could have asked for and started explaining the details about any of the given projects I can be working on. I was absolutely amazed at this organization and the extensive research taking place at this facitily and I am so eager to be a part of the impressive and interesting projects they have taking place. They have partnered with many universities, including Johns Hopkins and Harvard- the 2 leading schools of Public Health in the United States (and now Michigan since I am here! I’m going to spread the good work about the University of Michigan!), The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, Clinton Foundation, World Health Organization, and many AIDS initiatives in the states and in India.
The founder of YRG Care was actually the first researcher to discover and document the HIV virus in India, and she is a WOMAN! Now, YRG Care has one of the most state of the art clinical research facilities in all of India, and they are even conducting the first vaccine trials for HIV phase 1 right here in Chennai. These are the first trials ever in India, and I am going to be able to observe this!
I am overwhelmed by everything here at YRG Care, I feel like I have received my dream job, and I am going to be observing all the different projects this week and then begin to specialize on exactly what I want to accomplish in my time here. I am either parter up with one of the projects, or I can start conducting my own research with the help of staff to design a survey or questionaaire in Enligh, Tamil and the venacular. With that I will need to present to the IRB boardand get everything approved. At this point I am not sure which are I am going ot be working because there are projects relating to Female Sex Workers and HIV transmission with the control of Microbicides, Men and alcohol abuse and AIDS, HIV/AIDS vaccine trials, and many more. I am eager to get out into the field starting tomorrow!
When I returned to the house I had antoher cup of tea with Mercy and Papa and we talked about our days. Papa had a lot to say about HIV/AIDS and infact it was all positive that he is excited about what I am doing and he is interested in reading my work. I was worried because the first thing that Sethu asked me when I arrived to YRG was how does my family feel about what I am working on. I didn’t seem to think that there was any problem with it, but apparently is has raised a lot of controversy in India and is a touchy subject to address. There is a lot of denial that it is an issue in India, and many feel it is something that needs to be kept low. I think this is absolutely ridiculous, and even if it makes people a little uncomfortable in their skin, we cannot say that it does not exist. If there is going to be peace and health among the people, they can afford to be a little shaken up in the moment in order to help everyone out in the end.
I just got out of a group session interviewing female sex workers. 6 women came into the meeting and they are learning about how to spread the message about condom use and HIV. It was very interesting, and luckily I had a translator. They were all very happy to see me there, and my willingness to help them. I thought I should be thanking them! Some of them brough their children with them, which to me was a physical sign of when they are in their field of work. After reading so many interviews with these women, I've come to realize that it is all for the good of their children. Children are the most important thing.
I will continue to do work evaluating HIV traning programs and interviewing female sex workers and those who are HIV+.
I will update more soon!
Miss everyone dearly,
Sara
Posted by saraba at 04:00 AM | Comments (0)
Doctor said "Don't pet the animals"
So sorry it has taken me so long to write! I feel like I have so much to say, and my hands already hurt from typing.
Was the doctor really serious? I wasn’t about to be petting stray cats and dogs, but I never imagined I would have random encounters with cows and sheep on the street. Yes good thing she said that, or I might have rabies by now!
Even getting on the flight from London to Chennai was a slight in itself. I was the only woman traveling alone, and one of probably 5 white people on the entire flight. The feeling was one of a minority, but here it wasn’t as if people were staring, everything was perfectly ok and I actually felt safe. The thing in my mind about the Indians is I feel completely relaxed and safe around them, they are truly beautiful. Everyone is absolutely timeless.
As I finally made it out of the baggage claim, I see a frantic man flailing his arms, the family I am staying with is just as warm and comforting as I could have every imagined. Solomon, the man who frantically waves, Roy, mercy, and the bus driver and I all head out into the city as the sun is rising in Chennai around 5:30 am. The streets are packed with people, but nothing unusual to them, and the traffic is fine. We talked all the way to their home, about a 30 minute drive from the airport. I was so engaged in conversation that every now and then I would take a good look out the window and realize that I am acutlaly here. Along the streets are children playing, mothers cooking and working, and lots of people selling things on the street corners. As we turn street corners, I begin to see more and more huts made out what we would call a cute alittle tiki hut or something you see on the beach in Hawaii. That’s all cute and fine and dandy, until you realize that this is all they have, and if they even have a hut they are lucky. This isn’t a little beach hut in Hawaii, this is someone’s home on the dense busy streets of Chennai India, and suddenly I am not so hungry anymore.
The rapid manuvours through the streets remind me of the crazy driving in Italy and all over Europe… but twice as intense. Arriving at the home, I am welcomed by “papa”, or “tata” as they say in Tamil, and enter their beautiful Chennai home. The house that they have recently built here across the street from their church is considered a mansion in Chennai, although I think many houses in ann arbor are much bigger. Everything is white, the walls, and the white marble floors, and the entire place is plain with the exception of a few framed ocean-scapes in gold frames speratically around the house with bible verses on them. This family is a very unique family, in that they make up part of the 1% of the Christian population in Chennai. Roy was telling me that in 1970, Christians made up 30% of the population of India, and today it has been drastically decreasing to a low 3 %. Everything is very simple, and still very beautiful. The floors are the only thing cold I have felt here yet, and I am thankful for them!
My room has air conditioning, and in fact, I am actually cold right now! I am wearing a long sleeve shirt to bed, I never thought I would be making use out of long sleeves in India, but it feels good to have a nice cool room to come home to! The room is quaint with 2 windows, but covered by flowery curtains that remind me of my grandmother, and I don’t think I will be opening the windows here much during the day at least!
The mother granted me a beautiful lay of pink roses, bows of green leaves, and some little white flowers. Roy’s mother presentend this to me and thanks me for coming and that she wanted to pick me up from the airport but was not able to come, so she granted me with this beautiful gift. Afterwards I was able to thank everyone for accepting me so graciously, and told everyone that I was so excited to get to know everyone and work here. Mercy translated my speech into Tamil, and it was a very humbling moment for me, so express my great thanks was all I could do in the moment. I feel like they have done so much for me already, I would not every know where to begin to repay them. **As I type this there is a little green catepillar next to my arm**
THe family here has an orphanage and I was able to meet some of the children already. The one litte girl that I do remember though had the most beautiful and gleaming smile that I have ever seen on a child. She was full of light, and her teeth were glowing. The way she looked at me made me gasp, as I thought about her life and everything she must have already been through and she still has the courage to give me such a smile. What beautiful children are in our midst.
Breakfast was wonderful, and Roy’s mother makes a beautiful mean all the time. My frist Indian meal here consisted of a curry broth and flatbread. Later on in the day we had rice and chicken, and beef and even a hot pepper drink that they made me eat so that I could better digest my food. I’m thankful for that because I am just waiting for the moment that I get sick… I don’t want to! I’m just trying to drink plenty of fluids and take care of my self. I am not really eating that much, in fact when we got home today I didn’t really feel like having dinner but I made myself eat some wonderful what flat naan bread that was to die for! They always have lots of food availale, and auntie is cooking and taking care of us all day.
We all piled in the van and headed out to the beach, and around 5:30 the sun was already setting! As we were driving, yes we did almost run into a cow.
It took us so long to ge to the beack because the traffic was so bad. I have never ever in my life witnessed anything like this before. New York city during rush hour looks better than Chennai at 7:00 on a Sunday night. The buses were so overloaded that people were hanging out the side of the bus, and cars sped by inches away from their bodies. If they took in a breath they might have been dead. Little mo-peds sped by with fathers, womand and children hanging on to their babies as she patiently waits for her husband to get them out of the traffic jam. I couldn’t believe this!
We were in the heart of where the tsunami hit southeast asia. In fact, the beach of Chennai used to etend for more than a kilometer past where we were standing today, but it was all taken out to sea when the big wave hit. I was trying to imagine the picture that mercy was giving me when she talked about the wave hitting as far back as where we were driving, at least a kilometer or more back from the shoreline. Then I looked around at just how many people are gathered by the beach, so many people just out enjoying the enening. That is how it must have been the day the tsunami hit. Everyone relaxing, so many people jam packed on the beach, and then all of a sudden, everything is wiped out to sea. It was rather breathtaking to stand on the shoreline in Chennai, and stare out to sea and just know how powerful that sea is.
Modesty: I am wearing a skirt that goes past my knees and sleeves in 100 degree weather, except I don’t feel modest enough. Women wear skirts that cover their feet and ankles, I I have never felt immodest wearing this outfit, but suddenly everything is changing!
Posted by saraba at 03:44 AM | Comments (0)
May 12, 2007
Sarah Realizes She's in India
Hey all. I've done quite a bit of sightseeing this week, and my goodness, does the heat steal your energy. Yesterday it reached about 106 degrees, but I'm getting used to it and it doesn't hit me like a brick anymore when I go outside. If you want to look up some pictures of anything I saw, I saw the lotus temple, laxmi narayan temple, Gandhi's samadhi, India Gate, Humayun's mausoleum/tomb, and Qutb Minar. A bunch of people have come up to me and one of the other girls going to the orphanage with me (Elysia, also a white girl) and have asked to take pictures with us. It's pretty exciting on both ends, I think. Yesterday two women snuck up behind me and took a picture with me when they thought I wasn't looking. And a man with a baby came up to me and had me talk to the baby because she was afraid of me. Then he asked me to take a picture of him and the baby, and a bunch of other brothers jumped in and I ended up getting the most perfect family portrait. I've also see the three most desperate-looking beggers that I've ever seen in the past three days--more than I've seen in my whole life. They look so sad, and when they ask for money it breaks your heart. That's probably been one of the hardest aspects of my journey thusfar. We went to the movie theatre today and saw a Bollywood film, which was really a lot of fun. Tomorrow we head to Agra to see the Taj Mahal. I'm mega psyched about that. Then we move on to Jaipur to see some other things, and this coming Wednesday I will be at the orphanage. I really hope all of you are enjoying the less than 106 degree weather back in the states. If anyone feels like it they can email me. THough I'm really enjoying it here, I"m always looking for ways to stay connected with home. I miss you all.
Hugs,
Sarah :)
Posted by sarahsim at 01:37 PM | Comments (1)
May 08, 2007
Sarah's First Days in India
Oh my goodness, folks. I am in India. It's odd though because it hasn't sunk in yet. I can look out the window and see it before me, but it just doesn't register. It does sink in a bit, though, when I see the cows wandering on the streets. I love it...it's the most exciting thing so far, which sounds silly, yes, but I love the cows. They have the power to stop traffic. I think I still have some jet lag, as I become tired so early in the evening and wake up so early in the morning. Not too many symptoms besides that. It wasn't too hot until today. Then it felt like I was enclosed in a heat envelope or something of the sort. When I moved my hand through the air inside, I felt more heat, rather than a cool rush of wind. I'm handling it better than I expected though. Thusfar, I have seen no snakes, and I'm still okay with myself. This first week is to be spent learning some language and sightseeing in Delhi, Agra, and Jaipur--the Golden Triangle. Tomorrow we go to Old Delhi, Thursday to New Delhi, and this weekend to Agra and Jaipur. I think it will set in that I'm in India when I see the Taj Mahal. I'm super excited about that. On the 16th I'll be going to the orphanage, which I'm also looking forward to quite a bit. I am living with two other volunteers, and area coordinator and his wife this week. The other volunteers are both from England, so I'm on overload at the moment. It's like when I come out of French thinking in French, but only thinking in a British accent. I'm doing everything in my power not to start speaking the way I've been thinking. The Hindi lessons should help with the experience at the orphanage, as apparently the children don't speak English too well. I'm really excited to give them the coloring books and bubbles I brought. Also, I brought a frisbee. Hopefully it'll all go over well. Rajan (the area coordinator) is from Nepal, so I haven't had too much contact with local Indians yet. I've been out shopping a few times, but that gives only minimum interaction. Many people stare when Elysia (one of the other volunteers) and I walk down the street. We're both white as a sheet. Gurgaon, the city I am currently living in, is not very touristy so the people here don't often see people from other countries. They do not stare to be rude, but I think it's like when you see a car accident. So far, this has been a fun and new experience. And I like that the rupees have Gandhi on them. I will see his cremation site tomorrow or Thursday. Fun in the sun, babies. I hope everyone is having fun back in the states...I do miss it. And I miss everyone there. Look for another blog soon.
Love,
Sarah :)
Posted by sarahsim at 12:59 PM | Comments (0)
May 06, 2007
Poonam is a Seamstress
Although she has been separated from her alcoholic husband for nearly seven years, Poonam still wears bindi, the traditional circular Indian marker placed on the forehead that signals a woman is married. Her dress it neat, if not simple. Long jet-black hair, a quiet voice; Poonam is a seamstress. She charges less than $2 USD for about an hour and a half of work. Poonam considers herself lucky.
A mother of four, Poonam’s youngest daughter is in the 4th grade. This cheeky, polite child is doted upon by her soft-spoken mother. The first time I met her she was dressed in all the pomp and show that her mother has abandoned. The child’s dress was gold and red, layered with ruffled mesh and shining fabric flowers. It is only later that I am reminded of my first interview with Poonam; her youngest child is a product of martial rape.
As an economically immobile woman, Poonam is subjected to inescapable harsh judgment from her neighbors as well as the rest of society. As her earning has increased from the > $1.00 an hour wage she received for subcontracted seamstress work, she is able to dress and feed herself and the two children she still in her care after the marital split. Yet her neighbors, quick to judge any woman unattached to a man, shame her for the separation. She does not wear make-up for fear they will call her a whore. She dresses simply to buffer unwanted attention. The quiet details and modest embroideries upon her clothing are rare for a woman who makes her living in this field. Due to the dissolution of her marriage family from the divorce, and the segmentation of her parental family due to her father’s death and brother’s incompetence, Poonam does not have the safety net most women not only depend on, but are embedded in.
Poonam has held other positions. Once she worked in a factory for export products. Though the money was better than she makes now, the sexual solicitations from other male employees and corrupt bosses forced her to quit. Compromised by her physically and psychologically abusive husband, sexually harassed in the workplace and on the street Poonam states one thing clearly; men are not to be trusted. Young or old, she believes that all men are predators, and cannot believe they ever have good intentions. Her son, it seems, may be the one exception. He cares for his sister while Poonam is away from the home, and works to supplement the family’s income. When enrolled in school as a child the boy showed an ingenious aptitude for his studies. The director of the school offered to take the boy and raise him, education paid and a chance to escape poverty. Now her son works as a security guard; Poonam regrets not giving him a better chance at life. In her mid-thirties, she takes care to help her young daughter to obtain an education that her brother never had.
It is now, as a teacher for the Sant Nirankari Mission’s Tailoring and Embroidery Center in Delhi that Poonam receives regular wages in addition to the stitching she does inside her home. It is only after working with the Mission that she was able to start a tiny boutique. A hired hand takes orders for designs throughout the day as she teaches; Poonam completes many of the projects at night. As a teacher at a school that charges > $1.00 USD per month, Poonam meets many young women with troubled lives. There is no age limit at the school. Widows, divorcees, and women from the lower castes are accepted without hesitancy into the one year program. Yet, for these young women the accepting arms of a caring teacher may not be enough to keep them enrolled. Domestic duties and the objection of families to the daughter’s exit of the private sphere contribute largely to the drop-out of many young girls, girls who lack any other type of livelihood.
With a million dollars Poonam would open more centers for disadvantaged women. She is my first interview.
Posted by tvanderm at 04:13 AM | Comments (0)
May 01, 2007
Scrambling...
I had a minor panic-attack yesterday as I was unpacking and wondering, "why am I unpacking to repack to leave for India"... anyways, I lost my passport. On a brighter note, I found it a few hours later.
This is just a test, since I am still in my nice cool house in northern michigan, eagerly awaiting the sweltering heat that Theresa is loving!
Posted by saraba at 12:14 PM | Comments (0)