Well, I think I'm in love with little Dharamsala. There's really not much to do here, and at times the traveler in me gets a little restless, but mostly it's been nice to just do nothing. I've just been spending my days roaming up and down the three streets that comprise McLeod Ganj. The shop owners and street vendors already know my face, I'm sure -- and some even know my name. I've developed a bit of a habit of disappearing into one shop for an hour or so, chatting and drinking tea with the shop owner...and then, of course, buying something. It's been fun to have a little local interaction. They have some interesting stories.
It has rained -- poured, actually, for about two hours straight -- the last couple days. It's pouring outside now. You have to kind of plan your day around it, to make sure you're somewhere you can wait it out for a good hour or so. I've done a decent job. The day before yesterday, I was sitting at a rooftop restaurant, eating the most disappointing grilled cheese and tomato sandwich ever, during the downpour. It was next to a muddy cliff and I watched with the restaurant staff as mini mudslides tumbled down into the street below. It did make me a little nervous, but I figured being on top of the mudslide would probably be better than being on the bottom. The roar of the rain was almost deafening. Just when you thought it couldn't possibly rain any harder, the sound would get even louder. It was pretty impressive. So, this is what a real monsoon looks like...
Yesterday, I made it to the Tibet museum. The Tibetans have really endured a lot. It was really sad to read the accounts of former prisoners and those who risked their lives fleeing their own country. And it's even sadder to hear how the Tibetan traditions, language, and culture are being lost -- systematically destroyed and phased out by the Chinese. The 14th Dalai Lama has been living in exile here for 50 years now. Can you imagine being kept from your home, culture, and people for 50 years? At least he's safe here, though. The poor Panchen Lama is still missing, kidnapped by the Chinese in the 1990s. There are missing posters all over town with his young face on it, and stickers and funds asking for help in getting him released from Chinese custody. How awful, when you represent such an important part of a culture and a belief system, to be kept from your education and your religious duties to your people. It's interesting, though -- apparently, the 13th Dalai Lama foretold all of this before he died, warning that if the Tibetans didn't fight for their land, it would be lost and so would their way of life and the religious leaders that hold it all together.
I was chatting with my buddy at the shop yesterday a little about religion. He was showing me dozens of amazing paintings done by local monks of mandalas, pictures of the Buddha's life story, and various deities. He's a Hindu, I believe, but he knew so much about Buddhism -- he explained the symbolism of every painting to me like it was his own religion. He asked me if I was Buddhist (first time I've ever gotten that one), and I told him no, though I find it a very interesting and appealing religion. "I'm not really anything," I told him. And he shook his head and said, "No, you're everything." I really liked that. Usually I think of agnosticism as not being part of anything, but I like his perspective much better. I believe in something, so I suppose that makes me a little bit of everything. There are things I like about most religions, and they often do have a common theme, and I suppose if you took all those things and put them together, that's my religion right there. I'm not nothing; I'm a little bit of everything.
I'm planning to finally get some yoga in this afternoon, so if I have any other life-defining epiphanies, I'll be sure to share them. :) That's what being alone in Dharamsala is good for: lots of thinking.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Friday, August 7, 2009
Just me, the monks, and the mountains
The bus ride to Dharamsala was not quite the relaxing start I was hoping for. It wasn't the worst overnight bus ride I've taken -- nothing will ever beat out Kampala to Nairobi -- but it was almost as sleepless. You hear overnight bus, you think great, I can sleep the whole way and then I'm there. One less night to pay for a hotel. And from Delhi to Dharamsala, that's all that is offered. It is difficult to sleep, however, when the driver is constantly blasting the horn and you're being jostled around, at higher than reasonable speeds, up a mountain. The road was like most mountain roads, narrow and windy, but then you also have dogs, cows, monkeys, and falling rocks on one side, and a huge cliff on the other. And these drivers don't take those turns delicately -- they attack them. There was a sign on the road just outside Dharamsala that read, "Dashing Means Death." Needless to say, I was relieved to arrive safely.
Dharamsala itself isn't much -- most of the action, and the Dalai Lama's monastery and residence, are up the road in McLeod Ganj. The taxi drive up the hill is quite a memorable ride. The road is hardly a road at all...I'm kind of amazed cars can get up it. But I tried to concentrate instead on the beautiful view and trust that my driver knew what he was doing.
I had arrived in McLeod Ganj by 7am and the town was just waking up. That's my favorite time to be out...I wish I could always get myself up that early. I found a room without much trouble -- it was the last one available at the first place I went. I may try to find a better one later on, but at the time, I just wanted my own bathroom and to be settled. I had a brief run-in with a large 5-legged spider in that bathroom, but I emerged victorious (though a little ashamed) and went about my first day.
I spent the day wandering around town, getting a feel for it and doing some shopping (the jewelry here is awesome and I'm in big trouble...there's no one to stop me). I'm in love with it already. Tibetans are gorgeous, warm, and peaceful people. Monks cover the streets in vivid color, and their quiet sanguinity brings a sense of calm and safety to the whole place, even as mopeds and taxis go screaming through the streets. The food is simple and comforting. And the weather is amazing! It rained off and on all day, and it felt great to walk around in it. The sun would come out for a bit, illuminating the stunning view of lush hills spotted with houses and temples, their prayer flags waving in the breeze. Then the mist would roll back in, shrouding it again, and it would rain. It can do this all week, and I won't mind. It's such a relief from the hot stickiness of Delhi. I'd almost forgotten what it feels like to be comfortable outside.
I have to admit, it's a little lonely. I think that after 2 months of constantly being with people, I'm just not used to being alone. It's probably going to take a day or so to adjust and appreciate the solitude. It is nice, though, to be free to do whatever I want and go at my own pace.
This morning, I visited the Dalai Lama's temple and residence. The Tibet museum was closed, so I'll have to try that again another day. There's a meditation class tomorrow I might try, I might go see a movie at the local theater, I might try to find a yoga class, or maybe I'll just hang out with the monks. It's currently pouring rain outside, so I might just find a nice cafe to hang out in and wait until it lets up. A nice cup of chai and my book are calling my name. It's so nice not to have anything that I need to do...
Dharamsala itself isn't much -- most of the action, and the Dalai Lama's monastery and residence, are up the road in McLeod Ganj. The taxi drive up the hill is quite a memorable ride. The road is hardly a road at all...I'm kind of amazed cars can get up it. But I tried to concentrate instead on the beautiful view and trust that my driver knew what he was doing.
I had arrived in McLeod Ganj by 7am and the town was just waking up. That's my favorite time to be out...I wish I could always get myself up that early. I found a room without much trouble -- it was the last one available at the first place I went. I may try to find a better one later on, but at the time, I just wanted my own bathroom and to be settled. I had a brief run-in with a large 5-legged spider in that bathroom, but I emerged victorious (though a little ashamed) and went about my first day.
I spent the day wandering around town, getting a feel for it and doing some shopping (the jewelry here is awesome and I'm in big trouble...there's no one to stop me). I'm in love with it already. Tibetans are gorgeous, warm, and peaceful people. Monks cover the streets in vivid color, and their quiet sanguinity brings a sense of calm and safety to the whole place, even as mopeds and taxis go screaming through the streets. The food is simple and comforting. And the weather is amazing! It rained off and on all day, and it felt great to walk around in it. The sun would come out for a bit, illuminating the stunning view of lush hills spotted with houses and temples, their prayer flags waving in the breeze. Then the mist would roll back in, shrouding it again, and it would rain. It can do this all week, and I won't mind. It's such a relief from the hot stickiness of Delhi. I'd almost forgotten what it feels like to be comfortable outside.
I have to admit, it's a little lonely. I think that after 2 months of constantly being with people, I'm just not used to being alone. It's probably going to take a day or so to adjust and appreciate the solitude. It is nice, though, to be free to do whatever I want and go at my own pace.
This morning, I visited the Dalai Lama's temple and residence. The Tibet museum was closed, so I'll have to try that again another day. There's a meditation class tomorrow I might try, I might go see a movie at the local theater, I might try to find a yoga class, or maybe I'll just hang out with the monks. It's currently pouring rain outside, so I might just find a nice cafe to hang out in and wait until it lets up. A nice cup of chai and my book are calling my name. It's so nice not to have anything that I need to do...
Thursday, August 6, 2009
And then there was one...
The other girls left Wednesday night, embarking on their respective adventures before heading back to the States. My adventure begins tonight – I’ll be taking the 8pm bus to Dharamsala, home to the Dalai Lama and his government-in-exile. I’m looking forward to it. It will be one week of relaxing in the peace and coolness of the Himalayas, reading, writing, and enjoying some much-needed time to just think, reflect, and process the whirlwind of the past two months. We’ll see how long it takes to get lonely, but for now, it sounds like bliss.
The past few days have been great, just making our rounds to say goodbye and hit up all of our favorite spots one last time. Tuesday, we stopped by the JMC to say goodbye – and thank you – to Vimala, Antra, Uma, and the others. It really has been an incredible opportunity to have worked with them. We learned so much.
From there, we popped over to the GRC, hoping Usha (the GRC's caretaker) would be there with her daughters Puja and Aarti. Puja is 3 years old and we have all fallen head over heels in love with her. It took her a very long time to warm up to us, and it was hard to know whether she liked us or not until very recently. Usha said she's been asking where we've been, though, and lately when she sees us, she's all smiles - and she rarely smiles. Usha was there yesterday, but she pantomimed that the girls were at home and Aarti was sick. I think Usha could see how disappointed we were – we had come mostly to see them – and when we took out the gifts for her to give them, she said, “Challo” (“Let’s go”), and motioned for us to follow her home.
We woke Puja up, but she didn’t stay grumpy for long after we gave her the candy. We stayed and played with her for a bit…and graciously declined Usha’s request to take her with us back to America (not the first time she’s asked). Aarti seemed to be doing better – I guess Usha took her to the hospital yesterday. Usha explained the situation – she speaks Hindi to us like we understand what she’s saying – but none of us could quite figure out what happened. Aarti’s an amazing big sister. She’s so patient, even when Puja’s throwing a fit because she has to share her candy. Puja was hording the suckers, hiding them away in her backpack, and would throw a mini tantrum if you even teased her about taking one, but Aarti would just smile at her. Puja has quite a lot of ‘tude, as well, with the neighbor kids. A few of them came around to see what the white girls were doing there, and Puja would literally run them off, her tiny fists all balled up and her face in a scornful pout – like, “These are my white girls. Scram!” We’d never seen that side of her before! It was pretty funny to watch. She’s gonna be somethin’ else, that one…a whole lotta trouble.
The rickshaw ride home was extraordinarily annoying, but we just kept reminding ourselves that it was the last time. It took forever to get one, as it usually does from Jasola, and an amazing amount of arguing before the guy finally broke down and accepted our price…as it usually does from anywhere. Then, not a mile down the road, he pulled into the gas station where there was a HUGE line and left us in the rickshaw while he went to buy some paan (Indian chewing tobacco) – also, not an unusual occurrence. He, evidently, forgot to put the break on, so we started rolling back into traffic and I had to jump out and physically stop the rickshaw! Then we had to stand outside the rickshaw for 10 minutes while he got gas. Last time, last time...
Wednesday was Rakhi – the holiday for siblings! We were supposed to go to Charu’s to celebrate with her family, but she called the other day to tell us they were going to have to leave town because her husband’s father is really ill and wanted to see Viddhi. She invited Colette and me over after we get back, before we leave again, so hopefully we’ll get to say goodbye. It was sweet, though, to see all the men today - from little kids to old men - wearing their red bracelets given to them by their sisters. The idea is that the sister buys a bracelet for her brother and ties it on his wrist as a blessing, and at the same time it is kind of a pledge between brother and sister that he will watch over and protect her. Then they eat sweets and spend time together. It's a pretty darling holiday. There was an article in the paper on it today, and it was saying how excited families get for Rakhi, to spend time with their siblings, and honor the bond between brothers and sisters – one guy said, “Every guy wants to be with his sister on Rakhi.” We should have a holiday like this in our culture, don't you think? I'm just going to start adopting holidays and traditions from other cultures and make my family celebrate them.
We spent the rest of the afternoon getting packed up, chilled for a little bit, and then it was time for the girls to leave me. And now, for the next six days, I am on my own.
The past few days have been great, just making our rounds to say goodbye and hit up all of our favorite spots one last time. Tuesday, we stopped by the JMC to say goodbye – and thank you – to Vimala, Antra, Uma, and the others. It really has been an incredible opportunity to have worked with them. We learned so much.
From there, we popped over to the GRC, hoping Usha (the GRC's caretaker) would be there with her daughters Puja and Aarti. Puja is 3 years old and we have all fallen head over heels in love with her. It took her a very long time to warm up to us, and it was hard to know whether she liked us or not until very recently. Usha said she's been asking where we've been, though, and lately when she sees us, she's all smiles - and she rarely smiles. Usha was there yesterday, but she pantomimed that the girls were at home and Aarti was sick. I think Usha could see how disappointed we were – we had come mostly to see them – and when we took out the gifts for her to give them, she said, “Challo” (“Let’s go”), and motioned for us to follow her home.
We woke Puja up, but she didn’t stay grumpy for long after we gave her the candy. We stayed and played with her for a bit…and graciously declined Usha’s request to take her with us back to America (not the first time she’s asked). Aarti seemed to be doing better – I guess Usha took her to the hospital yesterday. Usha explained the situation – she speaks Hindi to us like we understand what she’s saying – but none of us could quite figure out what happened. Aarti’s an amazing big sister. She’s so patient, even when Puja’s throwing a fit because she has to share her candy. Puja was hording the suckers, hiding them away in her backpack, and would throw a mini tantrum if you even teased her about taking one, but Aarti would just smile at her. Puja has quite a lot of ‘tude, as well, with the neighbor kids. A few of them came around to see what the white girls were doing there, and Puja would literally run them off, her tiny fists all balled up and her face in a scornful pout – like, “These are my white girls. Scram!” We’d never seen that side of her before! It was pretty funny to watch. She’s gonna be somethin’ else, that one…a whole lotta trouble.
The rickshaw ride home was extraordinarily annoying, but we just kept reminding ourselves that it was the last time. It took forever to get one, as it usually does from Jasola, and an amazing amount of arguing before the guy finally broke down and accepted our price…as it usually does from anywhere. Then, not a mile down the road, he pulled into the gas station where there was a HUGE line and left us in the rickshaw while he went to buy some paan (Indian chewing tobacco) – also, not an unusual occurrence. He, evidently, forgot to put the break on, so we started rolling back into traffic and I had to jump out and physically stop the rickshaw! Then we had to stand outside the rickshaw for 10 minutes while he got gas. Last time, last time...
Wednesday was Rakhi – the holiday for siblings! We were supposed to go to Charu’s to celebrate with her family, but she called the other day to tell us they were going to have to leave town because her husband’s father is really ill and wanted to see Viddhi. She invited Colette and me over after we get back, before we leave again, so hopefully we’ll get to say goodbye. It was sweet, though, to see all the men today - from little kids to old men - wearing their red bracelets given to them by their sisters. The idea is that the sister buys a bracelet for her brother and ties it on his wrist as a blessing, and at the same time it is kind of a pledge between brother and sister that he will watch over and protect her. Then they eat sweets and spend time together. It's a pretty darling holiday. There was an article in the paper on it today, and it was saying how excited families get for Rakhi, to spend time with their siblings, and honor the bond between brothers and sisters – one guy said, “Every guy wants to be with his sister on Rakhi.” We should have a holiday like this in our culture, don't you think? I'm just going to start adopting holidays and traditions from other cultures and make my family celebrate them.
We spent the rest of the afternoon getting packed up, chilled for a little bit, and then it was time for the girls to leave me. And now, for the next six days, I am on my own.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
The Big Day
So, I think we rocked it. It was an intimidating start – we were kept waiting in the hallway for almost an hour, then kept waiting in the lady’s office (she’s the head Officer of the Delhi Government Mission Convergence Initiative) for another 10 minutes, where we finally gave our presentation between a series of interruptions. I wasn’t sure we were going to have her full attention at first, and I was half expecting her to tell us to come back on Monday. But, she actually did listen quite closely and was very receptive to ours and Vimala’s suggestions for future programming and greater government coordination. She was impressed by all the work we did and began making plans with Vimala to set up meetings with the Health Minister and others to push this onward. I don’t really think we could have asked for much more than that. We all left satisfied with what we’ve accomplished, relieved to have it over with, and hopeful about what may come from it.
Afterward, we met up with Vimala’s son in New Friends Colony to celebrate. It was a great time. We drank plenty of beer, laughed, learned about Indian sports (Vimala finally explained Cricket to us in a way that made some sense!), ate the tastiest, greasiest, messiest chicken shwarma I’ve ever had, and followed it up with ice cream sundaes at Baskin Robbins. A perfect celebration, if you ask any of us.
Tomorrow we’re finally going to check out a Bollywood movie in the theater -- we're seeing the latest blockbuster Love Aaj Kaal (“Love Nowadays”). It looks pretty great! I only wish there were subtitles... Then we’ve been invited to join Prem and Abha for dinner, which is always a good time. I think the next few days are going to be really fun, getting in all we can of Delhi, spending quality time with people, and saying our goodbyes. I can't believe in just two weeks, I'll be leaving India. It's going to be hard to go.
Afterward, we met up with Vimala’s son in New Friends Colony to celebrate. It was a great time. We drank plenty of beer, laughed, learned about Indian sports (Vimala finally explained Cricket to us in a way that made some sense!), ate the tastiest, greasiest, messiest chicken shwarma I’ve ever had, and followed it up with ice cream sundaes at Baskin Robbins. A perfect celebration, if you ask any of us.
Tomorrow we’re finally going to check out a Bollywood movie in the theater -- we're seeing the latest blockbuster Love Aaj Kaal (“Love Nowadays”). It looks pretty great! I only wish there were subtitles... Then we’ve been invited to join Prem and Abha for dinner, which is always a good time. I think the next few days are going to be really fun, getting in all we can of Delhi, spending quality time with people, and saying our goodbyes. I can't believe in just two weeks, I'll be leaving India. It's going to be hard to go.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Preparing for the Big Day
Well, tomorrow is the big day! The culmination of our project here, and our chance to prove (mostly to ourselves) that we actually accomplished something useful. We've spent the past week getting our presentation ready, and we are anxious to have it over with. Our efforts to survey the bigger facilities have, unfortunately, been unsuccessful. It’s been difficult to find contacts at these places, and they don’t seem to have much time for us. It’s fairly disappointing – I think it’s really important that we get a good idea of the spectrum of services and facilities available, even if the majority of the people we’ve surveyed aren’t using the big ones. I’m really interested to see what a government hospital looks like here…and I’m dying to see Apollo. I think if we can’t get any appointments for an interview, we’ll just stop by next week to at least look around and mark them on our handy GPS. It’s funny…I’ve gotten so used to watching for facilities to map, that whenever I see a clinic, pharmacy, chemist, or water pump – no matter where we are – my automatic reaction now is to mark it. I’m ruined for life. I will forever be mentally noting health facilities and “dirty areas.”
Today, we presented for the New Concept/JMC/GRC staff. It was excellent preparation for tomorrow, especially since we got schooled. I’m endlessly impressed by the New Concept staff. They had great suggestions and pointed out some definite oversights on our part. We are learning a lot from them. Some final adjustments and our presentation will be much stronger tomorrow. Sarah said it, and it’s true – those ladies of New Concept (Vimala, Uma, Vidya, and Gita) could turn the UN around by themselves and fix the world's problems. They are incredibly brilliant, influential, and inspiring women. My main regret with our project here is that we didn’t get to work with them more closely.
It was a good turnout for our presentation today – Charu was there, Mitlesh came (I almost teared up when we had our goodbye hugs), Bobbi and Survesh from the GRC, even Vimala’s son and daughter, as well as several others from the various departments around New Concept. I wish I could have gotten to know all of them better. We were always in the field, and when we were at the office, we were always in their way.
I know this is really nerdy, but I get really excited being at New Concept and seeing evidence of all the projects they’re working on. You walk around people’s desks and see reports for USAID, manuals for youth health conferences, pamphlets being designed for various NGOs, books on children’s rights, India World Health Reports, and on and on. For me, this is exciting stuff. This is what I want to do, the kinds of things I want to work on – well, more the actual projects, rather than the documentation and reporting, but still. It feels right to be surrounded by it, like I’m in the right place, or on the right track. It’s a fantastic feeling to know you’re doing what you’re meant to be doing…and it’s equally fantastic to be surrounded by people who are doing the same thing. This is why I gush so much about New Concept, I guess. These are the kinds of projects I aspire to be involved in and the kinds of women I aspire to be like.
In other news, the monsoon has been flirting with us some more. We thought it had finally arrived (to those of you who have been under the impression that it’s been raining here, oh nononononono) after it rained for 8 hours straight on Monday. That’s usually a good sign. And there were all sorts of problems – flooding, water logging, pot holes galore, electrocutions, falling trees, an entire bus submerged in water. The paper said that Delhi got about 50% of its total rainfall for the season (maybe even the year) just on Monday. So, we were pretty sure that the rain was finally here to stay. It has rained once since then, maybe for half an hour. And it’s back to being hot and muggy. I think Delhi is actually the only place in the entire country not getting its monsoon. This really is the absolute worst time of year to be here…I will have to remember next time to come in the winter.
Wish us luck for tomorrow! Hopefully we’ll leave an impression.
Today, we presented for the New Concept/JMC/GRC staff. It was excellent preparation for tomorrow, especially since we got schooled. I’m endlessly impressed by the New Concept staff. They had great suggestions and pointed out some definite oversights on our part. We are learning a lot from them. Some final adjustments and our presentation will be much stronger tomorrow. Sarah said it, and it’s true – those ladies of New Concept (Vimala, Uma, Vidya, and Gita) could turn the UN around by themselves and fix the world's problems. They are incredibly brilliant, influential, and inspiring women. My main regret with our project here is that we didn’t get to work with them more closely.
It was a good turnout for our presentation today – Charu was there, Mitlesh came (I almost teared up when we had our goodbye hugs), Bobbi and Survesh from the GRC, even Vimala’s son and daughter, as well as several others from the various departments around New Concept. I wish I could have gotten to know all of them better. We were always in the field, and when we were at the office, we were always in their way.
I know this is really nerdy, but I get really excited being at New Concept and seeing evidence of all the projects they’re working on. You walk around people’s desks and see reports for USAID, manuals for youth health conferences, pamphlets being designed for various NGOs, books on children’s rights, India World Health Reports, and on and on. For me, this is exciting stuff. This is what I want to do, the kinds of things I want to work on – well, more the actual projects, rather than the documentation and reporting, but still. It feels right to be surrounded by it, like I’m in the right place, or on the right track. It’s a fantastic feeling to know you’re doing what you’re meant to be doing…and it’s equally fantastic to be surrounded by people who are doing the same thing. This is why I gush so much about New Concept, I guess. These are the kinds of projects I aspire to be involved in and the kinds of women I aspire to be like.
In other news, the monsoon has been flirting with us some more. We thought it had finally arrived (to those of you who have been under the impression that it’s been raining here, oh nononononono) after it rained for 8 hours straight on Monday. That’s usually a good sign. And there were all sorts of problems – flooding, water logging, pot holes galore, electrocutions, falling trees, an entire bus submerged in water. The paper said that Delhi got about 50% of its total rainfall for the season (maybe even the year) just on Monday. So, we were pretty sure that the rain was finally here to stay. It has rained once since then, maybe for half an hour. And it’s back to being hot and muggy. I think Delhi is actually the only place in the entire country not getting its monsoon. This really is the absolute worst time of year to be here…I will have to remember next time to come in the winter.
Wish us luck for tomorrow! Hopefully we’ll leave an impression.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Fac finding, soul cleansing, and elbow rubbing
I’m not sure when it happened, but somewhere along the line, two months went by and here we are, in the final stages of our project, getting in as much shopping and sight-seeing as we can, and making plans for good-bye dinners.
Work last week was much more ad hoc than it’s been, and things are now shifting to more time spent at the computer than in the field. We’ve had an interesting run with the facilities. I feel like we’ve gotten a pretty good range, in terms of the kinds of facilities and services available to these two communities. We’ve seen everything from a “health van,” giving medicines and vaccines out the back of a jeep, to local one-room clinics, to holistic medical research institutes complete with saunas and steam baths. Some of our target facilities have been surprisingly hard to locate – we drove around for about an hour last week, asking people all over the place where this certain hospital was, only to find, after being pointed in all directions, the “government hospital” we were expecting was really a much smaller private clinic with a completely different name. It was very indicative of the amount of community awareness, in terms of facilities, their names, and who actually operates them. The health van was also hard to find, no one we asked knowing exactly who operated it or where exactly it came to. We were told it was run by some NGO and came every week to Jasola, but not even the staff at the JMC knew of it. Finally, we figured out that it is actually a government service and comes three days a week, parking right across the street from the GRC…granted, hidden behind a Hindu temple, but nonetheless, right under our noses. This is the recurring problem in development – the right hand knows not what the left hand is doing, and then you just have a fumbling, confused, ineffective mess.
This week we’ll hopefully get to visit the big guys – the All-India Institute of Medical Sciences (the government hospital) and the great Apollo Hospital. We will have the boss lady herself with us, so hopefully it will go well. For the most part, our interviews have been well-received and informative. Our last one, however, ended with the doctor asking us why we had just wasted so much of her time with our questions that will bring her nothing. It caught us all a bit off-guard, including poor Charu, who always bears the brunt of it. We mumbled some explanations of what we hope to come out of this, thanking her profusely for her time. She was not impressed, however, and we scurried apologetically out of her office as she called the next patient in. You win some, you lose some, I guess.
Now we are hard at work preparing our presentation for the Delhi government, which is a week from tomorrow. I’m a little nervous for that...I hope it’s well-received and doesn’t come off as preachy or accusatory. We have Vimala working with us, though, so I know I don’t have to worry.
This weekend was well-spent, taking advantage of what Delhi has to offer and checking some things off our “To Do/See” list. Thursday night, Sarah and I went to Nizamuddin’s Tomb for the qawwali music – every week, a group of men sing their hearts out in prayer at the mosque. It is a beautiful thing to experience, and we were really welcomed in by the people there, invited to not just witness it, but to be a part of it. We stood at first on the edge of the crowd, as usual trying to be as inconspicuous as possible (and as usual, unsuccessful despite our best efforts), but we were soon nudged and then dragged up to the front by one very emphatic woman. And despite all the eyes and the camera phone shots, I felt welcomed there. I was relieved that we managed not to commit any taboos or seriously offend anyone…there were, thankfully, signs to help us out (“No uncovered heads beyond this point” and “Ladies not permitted inside temple”) and a few people watching out for us, as well.
Saturday, we had a much more peaceful spiritual experience, sitting in the mandatory silence of Delhi’s Lotus Temple – the Baha’i temple shaped like a giant, unfolding lotus flower. It’s made of white marble and is full of light, shining in through the many windows and streaming down through the petal openings above. It is a very impressive, comforting structure, much like the Baha’i faith itself. It’s a very accepting religion, believing in the unity of all religions and the unity of humankind. It welcomes and invites people of all faiths, it declares equality between men and women, and interestingly, it stresses the need for accordance between religion and science – because without science, religion is just superstition, and without religion, science is immoral and materialistic. I like that. Bahai's are also very involved in development projects around the world. They consider development work an act of worship in itself. I really like that.
Saturday night, Prem and Abha invited the three of us to go with them to their Club. It’s a very prestigious club – it’s where all the big wigs hang out, and there is a 40-year waiting list to be a member! So, we felt honored to be their guests and get to rub elbows with Delhi high society. Prem and Abha are so cute. Prem, being retired, hangs out there all the time, swimming in the pool and socializing at the bar. He seems to know everyone – oh, this is the Electoral Chief for the President of India, this man owns race horses, this is the Ambassador of Colombia, this man owns Indian Airlines. Oh, and that house right on the other side of the wall from the tennis courts, that’s where the Prime Minister lives. No big deal. We had a good time, enjoying our first cocktails since we’ve been in India (and came to find that our tolerance has diminished quite a bit…) and eating lots of good food. There’s usually live music on Saturday nights, but apparently a long-time club member died that day, so in his honor, things stayed on the quiet side. It’s too bad…I would have loved to see Prem get down on the dance floor.
Work last week was much more ad hoc than it’s been, and things are now shifting to more time spent at the computer than in the field. We’ve had an interesting run with the facilities. I feel like we’ve gotten a pretty good range, in terms of the kinds of facilities and services available to these two communities. We’ve seen everything from a “health van,” giving medicines and vaccines out the back of a jeep, to local one-room clinics, to holistic medical research institutes complete with saunas and steam baths. Some of our target facilities have been surprisingly hard to locate – we drove around for about an hour last week, asking people all over the place where this certain hospital was, only to find, after being pointed in all directions, the “government hospital” we were expecting was really a much smaller private clinic with a completely different name. It was very indicative of the amount of community awareness, in terms of facilities, their names, and who actually operates them. The health van was also hard to find, no one we asked knowing exactly who operated it or where exactly it came to. We were told it was run by some NGO and came every week to Jasola, but not even the staff at the JMC knew of it. Finally, we figured out that it is actually a government service and comes three days a week, parking right across the street from the GRC…granted, hidden behind a Hindu temple, but nonetheless, right under our noses. This is the recurring problem in development – the right hand knows not what the left hand is doing, and then you just have a fumbling, confused, ineffective mess.
This week we’ll hopefully get to visit the big guys – the All-India Institute of Medical Sciences (the government hospital) and the great Apollo Hospital. We will have the boss lady herself with us, so hopefully it will go well. For the most part, our interviews have been well-received and informative. Our last one, however, ended with the doctor asking us why we had just wasted so much of her time with our questions that will bring her nothing. It caught us all a bit off-guard, including poor Charu, who always bears the brunt of it. We mumbled some explanations of what we hope to come out of this, thanking her profusely for her time. She was not impressed, however, and we scurried apologetically out of her office as she called the next patient in. You win some, you lose some, I guess.
Now we are hard at work preparing our presentation for the Delhi government, which is a week from tomorrow. I’m a little nervous for that...I hope it’s well-received and doesn’t come off as preachy or accusatory. We have Vimala working with us, though, so I know I don’t have to worry.
This weekend was well-spent, taking advantage of what Delhi has to offer and checking some things off our “To Do/See” list. Thursday night, Sarah and I went to Nizamuddin’s Tomb for the qawwali music – every week, a group of men sing their hearts out in prayer at the mosque. It is a beautiful thing to experience, and we were really welcomed in by the people there, invited to not just witness it, but to be a part of it. We stood at first on the edge of the crowd, as usual trying to be as inconspicuous as possible (and as usual, unsuccessful despite our best efforts), but we were soon nudged and then dragged up to the front by one very emphatic woman. And despite all the eyes and the camera phone shots, I felt welcomed there. I was relieved that we managed not to commit any taboos or seriously offend anyone…there were, thankfully, signs to help us out (“No uncovered heads beyond this point” and “Ladies not permitted inside temple”) and a few people watching out for us, as well.
Saturday, we had a much more peaceful spiritual experience, sitting in the mandatory silence of Delhi’s Lotus Temple – the Baha’i temple shaped like a giant, unfolding lotus flower. It’s made of white marble and is full of light, shining in through the many windows and streaming down through the petal openings above. It is a very impressive, comforting structure, much like the Baha’i faith itself. It’s a very accepting religion, believing in the unity of all religions and the unity of humankind. It welcomes and invites people of all faiths, it declares equality between men and women, and interestingly, it stresses the need for accordance between religion and science – because without science, religion is just superstition, and without religion, science is immoral and materialistic. I like that. Bahai's are also very involved in development projects around the world. They consider development work an act of worship in itself. I really like that.
Saturday night, Prem and Abha invited the three of us to go with them to their Club. It’s a very prestigious club – it’s where all the big wigs hang out, and there is a 40-year waiting list to be a member! So, we felt honored to be their guests and get to rub elbows with Delhi high society. Prem and Abha are so cute. Prem, being retired, hangs out there all the time, swimming in the pool and socializing at the bar. He seems to know everyone – oh, this is the Electoral Chief for the President of India, this man owns race horses, this is the Ambassador of Colombia, this man owns Indian Airlines. Oh, and that house right on the other side of the wall from the tennis courts, that’s where the Prime Minister lives. No big deal. We had a good time, enjoying our first cocktails since we’ve been in India (and came to find that our tolerance has diminished quite a bit…) and eating lots of good food. There’s usually live music on Saturday nights, but apparently a long-time club member died that day, so in his honor, things stayed on the quiet side. It’s too bad…I would have loved to see Prem get down on the dance floor.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Retreat to Rishikesh
The rest of last week moved pretty slowly. Monday, we met with Vimala to plan and finish writing our facilities survey, I stayed home on Tuesday, recovering from a cold, and Wednesday we finished up our interviews with the RMPs (Residential Medical Practitioners – those “local doctors” that everyone goes to, who are really just playing doctor, but without whom there would be nothing, so who can complain?). With our next steps being contingent upon other people’s schedules, there wasn’t really anything left for us to do. And there was a 5:30 train Thursday morning to Rishikesh…so, we took it.
It was an adventure, as any impromptu getaway should be (we literally decided to go at 11:30 Wednesday night…5 hours before we had to leave). After guiltily waking up Prem to get the taxi driver’s phone number and tell him we were leaving, we threw our stuff together, slept two hours, and headed to the train station without actually knowing if we would be able to get on the train. We had been right in the middle of booking our tickets on the slowest, earliest train (the only one still available) when the India Railway website closed down for the night. But we figured if we couldn’t book tickets, neither could anyone else, so we’d just show up at the station booking office in the morning and hope for the best. It turned out just fine, and seven hours later, we arrived in Haridwar – “the Gates of God,” where the foothills of the Himalayas meet the great and holy River Ganges.
After an impressively inconvenient and confusing process of booking our tickets back to Delhi (an hour of being jockeyed from line to line for this form and that, literally fighting to keep our place, and then still only ending up with one confirmed seat on the train…the booking officer told us that he’d pray for the other two of us to get a seat), we headed for the green, serene hills of Rishikesh – yoga retreat capital of the world.
The Beatles came to Rishikesh during their heyday and helped put it on the map as the place to go to practice yoga and meditation with the masters. Today, it’s full of ashrams, yoga schools, Ayurvedic massage parlors, and guest houses, and it’s generally known for its peace and quiet. As luck would have it, we picked the wrong month for that.
This is the month of Shiva, and Rishikesh just happens to be a major pilgrimage site for hundreds and hundreds of Hindus, coming to honor Lord Shiva and be blessed by the Ganges. The kaniwaris, as they’re called, come in an endless stream, groups of men walking or running together, many without shoes, all wearing orange and carrying water containers to fill with river water and take back to their families. There are some children and some women, but mostly it is men. They travel long distances, from all over India, sleeping and eating on the sides of the road – you see them everywhere as you drive from Haridwar to Rishikesh – in devotion to Shiva.
It was absolutely insane – with all those people, getting anywhere took an exerted determination, and as three white girls among all those men, it also took a tremendous amount of fortitude at times. There were some unpleasant encounters and it was generally exhausting just dealing with it all. It was, however, also an incredible thing to witness and I feel really lucky to have been there to see it.
We did try to relax as much as possible, though, enjoying the quiet of our little enclave of guest houses on the hill. We would spend part of the day in town, watching the river of orange flow to the Ganges from the coffee shop and then wandering around in it, shopping for souvenirs, crossing the long bridges, dodging people, mopeds, cows, monkeys, and cameras (there were a lot of photo requests, and far more stolen shots, this weekend). Then we would retreat to the hill to read, nap, and enjoy the gorgeous view. We treated ourselves to Ayurvedic massage, freshly baked pastries, and as many mango lassis and lemon-mint drinks as we could handle. And, of course, you can't go to Rishikesh without doing yoga. It was just what the soul needs.
Two nights, we went down to the river for the aarti – the evening worship at the temple. It was beautiful, with all the candles, drums, and chanting, facing the river all lit up by the sunset, a shining statue of Shiva, and the glow of flower boat prayers floating past. We bought one to send down the river…we fumbled with it and probably didn’t go through the motions right, but people seemed pleased that we were participating. And then we put our feet in the great Ganges, erasing 100 lives from our karmic record, just like that. Not a bad deal. It was my favorite part of the day. I would go every night of my life if I could.
By Sunday, we were both sad to leave and anxious to get home. It really was an incredible weekend, refreshing and draining in equal parts. I would love to come back some day…just not in July. The trip home was a bit stressful. We were already concerned about our “unconfirmed” seats on the train, and then became more concerned about even making the train when we learned of the massive traffic jams that were happening everywhere. The man who arranged our taxi advised that we leave extra early and pay an additional 100 rupees (to pay off the police) to take a “special” road around the traffic jams. We never saw any money handoff to any police, but our driver got us there safely and in good time. He did drop us off in the middle of a bridge, however, amidst the river of people, telling us we would have to walk another 15 minutes to the station. It was brutally hot, but we made it there with time to spare – and Ganesha was on our side because we got our seats on the train with relatively little fuss.
All in all, a very memorable getaway. Long live spontaneity.
It was an adventure, as any impromptu getaway should be (we literally decided to go at 11:30 Wednesday night…5 hours before we had to leave). After guiltily waking up Prem to get the taxi driver’s phone number and tell him we were leaving, we threw our stuff together, slept two hours, and headed to the train station without actually knowing if we would be able to get on the train. We had been right in the middle of booking our tickets on the slowest, earliest train (the only one still available) when the India Railway website closed down for the night. But we figured if we couldn’t book tickets, neither could anyone else, so we’d just show up at the station booking office in the morning and hope for the best. It turned out just fine, and seven hours later, we arrived in Haridwar – “the Gates of God,” where the foothills of the Himalayas meet the great and holy River Ganges.
After an impressively inconvenient and confusing process of booking our tickets back to Delhi (an hour of being jockeyed from line to line for this form and that, literally fighting to keep our place, and then still only ending up with one confirmed seat on the train…the booking officer told us that he’d pray for the other two of us to get a seat), we headed for the green, serene hills of Rishikesh – yoga retreat capital of the world.
The Beatles came to Rishikesh during their heyday and helped put it on the map as the place to go to practice yoga and meditation with the masters. Today, it’s full of ashrams, yoga schools, Ayurvedic massage parlors, and guest houses, and it’s generally known for its peace and quiet. As luck would have it, we picked the wrong month for that.
This is the month of Shiva, and Rishikesh just happens to be a major pilgrimage site for hundreds and hundreds of Hindus, coming to honor Lord Shiva and be blessed by the Ganges. The kaniwaris, as they’re called, come in an endless stream, groups of men walking or running together, many without shoes, all wearing orange and carrying water containers to fill with river water and take back to their families. There are some children and some women, but mostly it is men. They travel long distances, from all over India, sleeping and eating on the sides of the road – you see them everywhere as you drive from Haridwar to Rishikesh – in devotion to Shiva.
It was absolutely insane – with all those people, getting anywhere took an exerted determination, and as three white girls among all those men, it also took a tremendous amount of fortitude at times. There were some unpleasant encounters and it was generally exhausting just dealing with it all. It was, however, also an incredible thing to witness and I feel really lucky to have been there to see it.
We did try to relax as much as possible, though, enjoying the quiet of our little enclave of guest houses on the hill. We would spend part of the day in town, watching the river of orange flow to the Ganges from the coffee shop and then wandering around in it, shopping for souvenirs, crossing the long bridges, dodging people, mopeds, cows, monkeys, and cameras (there were a lot of photo requests, and far more stolen shots, this weekend). Then we would retreat to the hill to read, nap, and enjoy the gorgeous view. We treated ourselves to Ayurvedic massage, freshly baked pastries, and as many mango lassis and lemon-mint drinks as we could handle. And, of course, you can't go to Rishikesh without doing yoga. It was just what the soul needs.
Two nights, we went down to the river for the aarti – the evening worship at the temple. It was beautiful, with all the candles, drums, and chanting, facing the river all lit up by the sunset, a shining statue of Shiva, and the glow of flower boat prayers floating past. We bought one to send down the river…we fumbled with it and probably didn’t go through the motions right, but people seemed pleased that we were participating. And then we put our feet in the great Ganges, erasing 100 lives from our karmic record, just like that. Not a bad deal. It was my favorite part of the day. I would go every night of my life if I could.
By Sunday, we were both sad to leave and anxious to get home. It really was an incredible weekend, refreshing and draining in equal parts. I would love to come back some day…just not in July. The trip home was a bit stressful. We were already concerned about our “unconfirmed” seats on the train, and then became more concerned about even making the train when we learned of the massive traffic jams that were happening everywhere. The man who arranged our taxi advised that we leave extra early and pay an additional 100 rupees (to pay off the police) to take a “special” road around the traffic jams. We never saw any money handoff to any police, but our driver got us there safely and in good time. He did drop us off in the middle of a bridge, however, amidst the river of people, telling us we would have to walk another 15 minutes to the station. It was brutally hot, but we made it there with time to spare – and Ganesha was on our side because we got our seats on the train with relatively little fuss.
All in all, a very memorable getaway. Long live spontaneity.
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