Mountains and forts and such.

I can’t believe it’s been nearly two weeks since I last wrote! Maybe I shouldn’t make a career as a blogger. I moved in with my host family a week ago and couldn’t be happier with the placement. My host aai Sulochana (mother, though she prefers us to call her aji, or grandmother) is an angel in disguise. She is in her late 70s and lives alone, as her husband died some years ago. Don’t let her age fool you though; she is more active than most young adults I know. Her son, his wife, and one of her granddaughters, Rutuja (Roo), live directly above her and help out whenever she needs it. As is typical here, the whole family is very close and everyone visits the other’s flat almost daily. It’s more like living in separate floors of the same house rather than “individual” flats.

The view from our flat is spectacular. We are on the 6th floor, well above most of the structures in Pune. The result: to the east is a beautiful view of the sprawling Western Ghats; to the north, south, and west the city breathes beneath you. Each morning I stand on the balcony and gaze out over the slopes, take in the scent of dawn - the sweet mixture of tea brewing and street vendors roasting corn and chapatis over smoking coals. From my perch above I can see dogs playing on the streets, children running to school, the birds flying to and from the coconut trees. And each morning I feel so grateful to be alive, to be in this intoxicatingly beautiful place.

Sulochana is in charge of at least one NGO, and works with various others in areas in and around Pune. The organization she runs goes to villages to teach the women how to sew clothing, make bags, knit, or do other activities that allow them to generate an income and become self-supporting. I went with her last week to a village 25km into the mountains and watched while she talked to them about learning to make paper bags. The government in Maharashtra has banned the use of plastic bags for environmental reasons, so the stores are (theoretically) switching to paper. All the bags are made from old news papers and a few staples. Once she was done explaining the process to them, Su allowed me to ask the women a few questions and acted as translator. I was surprised to learn that half of them have college degrees. Some even knew a bit of broken English (though they weren’t confident enough to use it around me). Yet all are unemployed, live in single room homes, and rarely venture out of the village. Why? There are a few reasons that became quite clear from my very brief encounter.

First are their house duties. There is no one to take care of their children while they are away, which makes it very difficult them to venture out for an hour or two, and impossible to seek any kind of employment that would require them to leave for the entire day. All of the family’s washing, cooking and cleaning falls to them. Secondly, simple things that we take for granted in more developed areas take tremendous amounts of time here. Take access to water for example. Very few of the homes have running water, so the women collect everything they need for drinking, cooking, washing clothes, and bathing daily. Because the local water gets “bought” by big corporations (like Coca-Cola) for next to nothing, they are forced to walk extremely long distances to use unsanitary water supplies. The water only comes for about an hour a day too, so everyone has to stand in line for hours beforehand in the hope that they can fill their buckets. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have to return home empty-handed... The price the corporations pay for the water is virtually nothing, but then they turn around and sell their products for enormous profit. All while the villagers struggle to survive.

Third is transportation. The majority of people cannot afford cars or motorbikes (if they happen to have one it is shared by two or three husbands, who form a rather dangerous looking pile of bodies that miraculously makes it to and from the factories they work at unharmed), and they are too far from the city to catch rickshaws. Forth and perhaps most hindering, there are simply no jobs. No jobs for the men, and certainly none for the women. Obtaining work that pays a living wage requires intense specialization in a field of study. Most women don’t have access to resources to afford this, nor will their families allow them to study for such an extended period of time. It is still a common practice to educate the sons before the daughters and, because most families can only afford to send one of their children through school, a large segment of the female population remains uneducated. Those who are lucky enough to make it through college still are not able to find work, in part due to the reasons listed above. It’s a multifaceted problem that lacks a simple solution. The entire system and deeply engrained modes of thought must be altered, which will take time, patience, dedication and understanding.

While all this sounds quite bleak, I must admit the conditions in the village were better than I expected. There is a school for the young children, everyone looked well fed, each family had a simple house, and people seemed to be happy. There was a school that went up to fifth standard and was bustling with activity at 5 in the afternoon. The village itself was nothing close to what I’d pictured before I went. Forget images of mud huts and bullock carts. The people lived right off the main road through the mountains in single-room concrete houses. Every home I saw had electricity and a television, and all the men and teenagers had cell phones. Sanitation was another story all together - funny what we value. I’d read WHO statistics before coming that quoted the percentage of cell-phone users to be MUCH higher than the percentage of the population that has access to sanitation facilities. Everything I’ve observed points to them being correct. Cell phones are cheep, building functioning toilets isn’t.

I’ll be going to the village more with Su soon, both to help with classes and to volunteer in an HIV orphanage just outside. I made friends with a lot of the children in the short time I was there (one little girl, about two years old, screamed and cried when I left, saying she wanted to come with me - so cute!), and I can’t wait to go play with some more. It’s amazing how much can be communicated without words. None of these children spoke English, and I certainly can’t speak Marathi, but we still were able to chase each other around, play on the swings, and get our points across in the one language we had in common - their childhood innocence, openness, and understanding. Play is universal.

I already mentioned one of the other NGOs Su works with briefly - the hostel for HIV+ children up to 18 years old. They provide them with housing, medications, and education. She goes every Saturday, and I’ll go with her when time permits. It ties in loosely with my research for the program: the affect of female literacy on lowering HIV rates within various communities. I meet with my research guide tomorrow, and will have a better idea about exactly how I can collect data and what NGOs I’ll be working with after that.

Briefly, a few other things I’ve been doing... I made friends with a guy from Iran, Hamid, who is studying English at Symbiosis University. He’s only been here for four months, but he speaks fairly fluently. I was amazed. My roommate Jamae, Hamid and I ventured into the hills of the Ghats the other day - it was BEAUTIFUL. There was hardly anyone around, and the light rain that was falling felt glorious. We met one of Hamid’s friends and all got roasted corn on the roadside (One of my favorite foods here, the corn is roasted over hot coals and then has lemon, salt, and chili powder rubbed into it. My mouth is watering just thinking about it. I’ll definitely make it for everyone when I get back). There were cows everywhere too, and the bells around their neck made a peculiar kind of music as they walked by.

Yesterday the whole ACM crew went up to Sinhagad, a fort built over 300 years ago by one of the Mogul kinds (see pic at the top). It lays in ruins on top of one of the mountains. The stairs and archways are carved into the rocks, and look as though they have always been a part of the mountain’s design. It was surreal to be there, standing where kings once stood, envisioning what it would have been like to watch the armies of your foes approach from the valley below. Our giant group attracted quite a bit of attention, and more than once I had clusters of Indian college boys throng around me for question and picture sessions. All in good fun.

Tomorrow it’s back to class! We start our elective courses in a week, after the three week orientation period is over and our semester officially starts. I’ve switched my elective choice from Environmental Perspectives to Indian Literature, mainly because of the professor. R. Raj Roy, who just happens to be one of the leading gay activists in the country, is teaching the literature class. We’ll get to explore political issues since 1947 through the various books we read. Perhaps the most exciting topic (for me, anyway) will be the struggle LGBT rights, examined through Raj’s own book “The Boyfriend.” Homosexuality was just decriminalized last year in India, and the country has a long way to go before gay culture is accepted and it is safe for people to practice homosexuality openly. I cannot believe how lucky I am to have the opportunity to study these issues with someone who has been on the forefront of the action.

Classes

Oh the perpetual problem of blogging about this experience - there’s so much to tell, but no words to tell it! I don’t even know how to begin to describe the experience in terms that will make it even partially come alive for anyone who hasn’t experienced it.

Anyway... now that I’ve made that point, I’ll try and talk a bit about the start of classes. Yesterday we only did Marathi, and today we started our Contemporary India class. We’ll be doing Marathi every day, and the CI class Tuesdays and Thursdays. I’m really stoked about the topics covered in CI: class, caste, gender, language, politics, poverty, education, etc. This country is SO complicated and multi-facetted. Our prof said it today, and I’ve definitely seen it through experience: anything you say about India is true, and not true. It’s the land of opposites and extremes. It makes every turn interesting and exciting, but also hard to understand. Nothing can be put in a box here. There are no generalities that can be made, because they are so right yet so wrong in so many ways. It will be interesting to see how things work once we start getting more in depth into the different subjects, and hopefully are able to put a few puzzle pieces together. Tuesdays we’ll be having class with a soc/anthro professor, and Thursdays with a Poli-Sci prof. Monday and Wednesday I’m assuming we’ll have our elective class (Environmental Perspectives for me) a long with Marathi. Add on the research project, and it’s starting to look a bit overwhelming!

Marathi is TONS of fun, but pretty difficult. The script is beautiful. Every letter has it’s own sound, and can only be pronounced one way, so once you know it it makes a lot of sense. Phonetically spelling the words is kind of tricky, ‘cause it doesn’t look like what you’d expect. I think that once I know enough to start speaking a little in everyday conversation, I’ll start to pick it up a lot faster. And hopefully be able to relate it to Hindi and learn some of that as well!

Yesterday I made friends with some of the students from the French class that is taught in the classroom above us. They were a lot of fun, and thought it was pretty funny that I’m learning Marathi. I think they were surprised that I went over to talk to them, ‘cause all the other US students were sitting in a group a ways off. Everyone shared their food with me and offered to help me with my Marathi (yay!). Priyanka (one of my new friends :p), Izzy and I all went out for coffee at a really nice Barista on RC Road and talked for hours about Bollywood stars, Indian and [USo]American culture, places to visit around Pune, and where we should travel. Her mom is a travel agent, so she said she can help us figure out where to go and stay and stuff - it’s going to be super helpful I’m sure. I think I’m going to try and go to her house for Dīpāvali (Marathi: दिवाळी), the festival of lights coming up in September. Everyone dresses in traditional clothing, make tons of sweets and other food, and party the night away. It’s HUGE in Pune, ‘cause it started here. During British rule it was illegal for people to congregate because they were planning the revolution, so festivals were a way to get everyone together. As a result, there are a TON of them now.

Some of the best colleges in the country are in Pune. Priyanka goes to one of them, and says there are quite a few foreign students there. She has a lot of friends, Indian and foreign, that I look forward to meeting at some point. I’ll probably be connecting with some professors once I start my research as well. I'm falling in love with this country so quickly. I don't know if I'm ever going to want to leave! I am starting to think about looking for an internship through J-term; extend my stay by a month or so. We'll see. For now I’ve got to go study and get to bed! It’s early mornings and jam-packed days from here on out.

Puneeee at last!

Bittersweet. The best way to describe leaving New Delhi. As I waved goodbye to the insane city that introduced me to this incredible country, a pang of sadness threatened to overwhelm the excitement that has consumed my every thought of Pune. I’ve learned so much in the two weeks I’ve been here. Crossing streets has ceased to be a nightmare. Stepping in front of honking cars to catch a rickshaw on the opposite side of the highway almost seems like second nature. I can eat with my hands, grabbing rice and curry between pieces of roti like I’ve been doing it for years. Animals, goats, cows, monkeys, donkeys, camels and elephants making their way between cars and rickshaws, no longer make me stare in utter amasement. The people, the noise, the smells - all seem like a part of home, a new home. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg... But new adventures await, so with lots of hugs and promises to return soon, I bid farewell to Shrishti’s family.

Meghan (another ACM student that was also spending time in Delhi) and I reached Mumbai just after midnight. We were fully expecting to walk out of the airport into the welcoming and capable hands of ACM staff, so it was a bit of a surprise when no one was there to greet us. There must have been a bit of a mix up on timing. After waiting just outside the gate for a good 30 minutes, we finally located the guy that was driving us to meet the rest of the students at the International Airport. The poor guy was so worried! He must have gotten there right after we walked out, ‘cause he was waiting by the gate almost as long as we were waiting outside of it, less than 10 ft away from us.

Driving through Mumbai at 2am probably doesn’t give you the best representation of the city, but I was surprised by how quiet it was. It was also much cooler, less humid, and less polluted than Delhi, which was nice. The drive from Mumbai to Pune is said to be one of the most beautiful in the country. The darkness of night couldn’t cloak the majestic appearance of the cities below us as we wove through the Western Ghats. Mist settled like a cloak over the dark forms of the mountains. It’s cool fragrance blowing over my face as I lay against the open window frame was a wonderful refreshment from the city air I was used to. I felt as though I was floating in a dream (My tiredness contributed to that effect I’m sure).

We reached Pune at 6am and got a few precious hours of sleep before our first meeting at noon. I can’t even imagine how tired the other students were, after traveling for over 24 hours between the plane and car ride. It was fun to see everyone’s varied reactions to the food and sights on the streets (streetdogs got a lot of sympathy). It seems like I’ve been around it forever, I had to keep reminding myself that it’s all new to me too! We found a nice coffee shop that has a very western atmosphere, so that was a big hit. I got a delicious iced mocha. It was super expensive by Indian standards, but probably 1/6 the price of a Starbucks drink. Sometimes it’s worth it to splurge a bit. :p

Pune is much quieter and cleaner than Delhi. Everyone around me seems to be melting, but I’m in heaven! It’s so much cooler and waaay less humid than what I’ve been in. And the pollution is a billion times better. I can breathe again! We had our first class today, and I made friends with some Indian students! But, I’m super tired and need to get to bed so I can get up early for class again. I’ll definitely give more details soon!

Love from Pune!

Last post from Delhi!

While I’m thinking about it, maybe it’d be fun to start composing a list of no-so-obvious differences between India and America. Keep in mind these observations are limited to my experience, and can’t be generalized across the country or even home to home.

1. Stairs. They’re steep, they’re narrow, and if you have to climb a winding staircase to some far off location you better think twice about whether or not you’ll fit. In the US we have sweeping staircases with broad steps, gradual inclines and generous amounts of space to accommodate all people, often with two or more able to proceed side by side. Not so here. Imagine the miniature models you’ve seen for houses or in Disney-world displays. You’ll start to get the picture. Even I have to duck under door ledges and squeeze around corners, and I’m pretty tiny.
2. Handicap accessibility. It doesn’t exist. I’ve hardly found a single place that could be easily (or even realistically) traversed by someone in a wheelchair, on crutches, burdened by various forms of physical disabilities, or with a severe vision impairment. There aren’t elevators from floor to floor or even ramps onto the sidewalk. The majority of staircases don’t have railings either, which has made things rather challenging for me on days when my back doesn’t feel like cooperating.
3. Food. This one’s rather broad and doesn’t really fit in the not-so-obvious category, but it’s worth mentioning. Rice is the biggest staple. It’s present with pretty much every substantial meal I’ve had - curry and rice, dahl and rice, etc, etc. Life's been devoid of pasta too, which is a bit of an adjustment. Shrishti's mom tells me she doesn't know how to cook it. You can find American food in some of the markets, but it's SUPER expensive (~5x the price of other stuff). Secondly, if you’re like me and don’t like spice, it can be hard to find hings to eat. Yogurt and a ratio of portions that strongly favors rice and/or some sort of bread help a lot, but certainly don’t eliminate it. A few other random things: Sugar is in crystals, not finely ground. Salt is finely ground, not in crystals (think popcorn salt). Milk comes in a bag, separates rather quickly into a layer of cream and the actual milk, and I’ve always seen it being boiled before use.
4. Meals. Shrishti's family has one large meal, not three. Breakfast is small - tea/coffee and a piece of toast or a few crackers. Lunch is the big meal - rice and curry or something similarly substantial. Dinner is often non-existent, or comes in the form of more tea and biscuits (crackers), a mango or two, or a small portion of rice or roti + curry. This can vary substantially from home to home and region to region.
5. Space. There’s none of this either. But the population of places like Delhi and Mumbai don’t pay much attention to this trivial detail, so the cities do the only thing they can - grow up. I’m sure it’s similar to what living situations look like in New York City. People have flats stacked on top of each other, not houses. There’s no space for green lawns or neighborhood sidewalks. Fortunately the government realizes this, and has protected a handful of park areas in Delhi for people who need occasional exposure to nature. Don’t expect peace and quite here either though, they are pretty well populated by 6am.
6. Animals. All things considered, they’ve adapted relatively well to city life. Street dogs eat well and I’ve yet to see one fall victim to the traffic insanity. Monkeys make their homes on rooftops and terraces (a very poor substitute to the jungles that are quickly being destroyed, but that’s another issue altogether), and even manage to have fun at the expense of their human neighbors. They’re notorious for stealing any number of things - keys, cell phones, books, wallets - and runing off into the sunset with them. Chipmunks, pidgins, and crows are everywhere. It’s not uncommon to see camels and elephants weaving through cars stuck in jams on the highways. Donkeys are used to transport deliveries of cloth or vegetables, but aren’t always connected to any visible human. I’ve seen quite a few running along the road unaccompanied and unburdened by pack-saddles. Goats too. They all stay out of the way of traffic though, so they must know what they’re doing. And the cows. It’s true, they’re everywhere. I’ve seen tons of them laying on the barrier separating one side of the highway from the other (a definite necessity - they’ve got to make it absolutely impossible for cars to drive into oncoming traffic, otherwise there will be complete chaos as drivers try and escape jams by driving down the wrong side of the road).
7. Construction. Forget about using heavy equipment to move piles of rubble and debris. Instead, the backbreaking work is done by countless numbers of men and women who carry unbelievably heavy dishes filled with dirt and concrete, bags of trash, or a dozen bricks on their heads. Both the US and India seem to have the same problem in that work is never, ever, ever complete though. The Commonwealth Games are coming up in less than two months, but it appears extremely unlikely that the billions and billions of dollars put toward construction projects are going to result in the beautifying of the city before the whole world descends upon it.
8. Drainage. It’s awful. Roads become impassible within 15 minutes and everything shuts down as a result. The other day the majority of the major roads in Delhi were blocked off due to flooding from two hours of rain.
9. Corruption, (lack of) regulations and other social issues. Ok, so this one’s pretty obvious but it’s gotta be included somewhere. I won’t say much ‘cause if I did I’d go on forever, but some of the most basic points = Corruption is everywhere, from the highest levels of government to the people on the streets. The police force is crippled by it - no one trusts the cops, and for good reason. There are numerous instances of them turning their heads to crime occurring right in front of them, be it theft, rape, or murder. It’s not safe for a girl to go anywhere with a cop alone, or to expect him (or her? Haven’t seen any female police) to help if you’re being harassed or followed. When their are a few cops together, you can trust them a bit more, but even then you have to be careful. Bribery is the law of the land. You can get out of anything if you have enough money. Pay rates even take this into account; police wages are lowered with the expectation they will make up the extra through bribes, creating a system in which they are forced to compose “illegal” transactions in order to feed their families. Poverty is everywhere, 40%+ of adults are illiterate, education is not free or compulsory and huge numbers of children are forced to work instead of going to school. As for regulations, don’t count on them to keep you safe. According to yesterdays’ Times of India, 90% of street food vendors don’t have a license to operate. In other words, their food doesn’t meet sanitation regulations and will make you very, very sick if you haven’t grown up on it.

I could keep going, but I’ve got to run downstairs and pick up some stuff from the tailor before everyone’s gone! It’s the first day of Ramadan, so most of the shops are going to close up before sunset. I’m off to Pune tomorrow. I’ve had two weeks to read, write, and watch way too many Bollywood movies. It’s time to get to work and start helping the world!

Signing out from New Delhi!
<3

More from the past week....

Sunday was a special day for Hindus. In honor of Lord Shiva, we all went to Kalkaji to pray and, for me, to observe. The visit served to re-enforce the fact that I know shamefully little about Hinduism and the various practices of the religion. It’s not a good idea to go to a religious site with nothing more than vague expectations, and I probably would have gotten a lot more out of the experience had I been armed with at least a little knowledge. It was definitely a learning experience nonetheless, and defied pretty much all of my expectations.

Forget the notion that a temple is a place to find quiet and serenity. There was nothing of the sort here. Everything about this place was crowded and loud: vendors yelling to sell you beads and jewelry, cooks calling out orders as they made breads for offerings, children crying from the heat, dogs barking, devotees chanting, beggars pandering for money and food. About half way toward the end of the line to get into the temple we respectfully removed our shoes and proceeded barefoot into the street (yea, the line was that long). I couldn’t help but think of the children I’ve seen running around day after day without shoes as I stood there, my feet being scalded by the filthy, crumbling pavement. My turn to get a small glimpse of their life. That thought really helped me put things into perspective; any complaints I might have had completely disappeared. Thinking of them, I didn’t mind stepping through trash, water, over broken rocks and between the bodies of dogs and people sprawled down the middle of the pathway. If the city’s poor did this every day, I could do it for an hour.

The temple was a world of extremes. I saw human beauty and strength juxtaposed with unimaginable suffering and disease. Woven within a sea of beautifully adorned devotees were the lives of widows and orphans, diseased and destitute. Before my eyes, the third world and first world collided. Children with flies in their eyes held their hands toward me, hoping a coin or two would fall into their waiting palms. Hairless dogs lay panting against walls, the mange that covered their bodies quickly taking over the sickly forms of the puppies by their side. And time after time I saw some of the worst amputations and most disfiguring deformities imaginable. While many were the effects of polio or other diseases (that rarely make themselves known in countries like the US, where adequate health care and preventative measures are avalible to all), others were the mark of mafia violence. Not everything was hopeless though. Every twenty minutes or so people would come to the beggars carrying food and water to distribute. These were the remains of the offerings I’d seen being bought earlier. After being set before the images of Shiva, they were given freely to anyone who asked.

Eventually we made our way into the temple. All of us women covered our heads with our scarves before crossing the entrance. Everyone crushed around me, all shouting and pushing to be the first to enter and receive a handful of sweetened rice - the token of our visit. The inside of the temple was decorated with silver and gold and countless flowers. But there was no time to pause and enjoy the beauty. People were pushed out as quickly as they entered. Many reached up to ring the bells hanging overhead (not sure of their significance yet), and before I knew it we were making our way back onto the street. This time, however, I stepped on the pavement with the newfound knowledge of the scalding temperatures being held at bay by the soles of my shoes.


Anyway! I don’t mean to always sound so depressing. I feel like all I talk about is the poverty I see! It does bother me though; I’m looking forward to getting to Pune so I can get involved in NGOs and start to contribute to part of the solution. Until then, I’ll just have to learn as much as I can from observation alone, and keep filling my down time with way too many Bollywood movies and books. I’ve been able to pick up movies for Rs. 90-150 (US $2-3.50), depending on how old they are. So far, I’ve watched:

Kal Ho Naa Ho
Paheli
Guru
Delhi-6
Rang De Basanti
Lagaan
Kismat Konnection (The only one I’ve found that wasn’t very good...)
Jab We Met
3 Idiots

The last two were on Shrishti’s computer, and I didn’t get to see the end of 3 Idiots because it didn’t download right. I tried to buy it but, as is the case with pretty much all of Aamir Kahn’s movies, it was super expensive - Rs. 500 (proof that your perspective on the value of money changes quickly, this is about US $10). I’ll wait a few months for the price to go down. The movie is one of the biggest hits of all time here, and Aamir Kahn (the leading actor) is a marketing genius. Everything with him in it sells for four or five times the price of other movies. I must say though, he and Shah Rukh Khan are stealing my heart. I’ve watched their movies three or more times, and they still haven’t gotten old. Bollywood is so much better than Hollywood. Everything is done with overflowing love and passion and MUSIC. Movies are all full of singing and dancing - really, really good dancing. And quite a few of them make social statements relevant to the times, and incorporate current issues in their plots. Talk about a way to reach out to the masses. Back to the dancing though - I’m going to learn how it’s done. I’m quickly coming to the conclusion that there’s going to be at least one Bollywood dance scene at my wedding.

It is raining like CRAZY right now!

Everything’s flooded. Shrishti’s dad can’t even get home from work because they’ve closed down all the roads. It poured like this yesterday too. I spent a good bit of time getting soaked while spinning in circles kicking up the rain from the roof. You know the Bollywood scenes in monsoon rains? It was like that, only better. Now all I need is some handsome chap to come and sweep me off my feet. Then the movie will be complete. But one can’t be a lonely superstar for forever, so eventually I gave up the dream and plopped down on the concrete. Laying there with the rain streaming down my face, pooling around my arms, I was in heaven. It was wonderful.

Anyway, I’ll attempt to catch up on the last week in as few words as possible. I’m never one to be short-winded though, so no promises. Since I last wrote I’ve been lucky enough to make it to the Baha’i Lotus Temple, the Qutub Minar, and Kalkaji, one of the most famous Hindu temples in the world. I still haven’t made it to a mosque, as Shrishti isn’t too keen on the idea, but I’ll make it before I go, even if it’s not while in Delhi.

Going to the Lotus Temple was like a dream come true. As a kid seeing pictures and news of it’s construction, I was always fascinated by the architectural marvel. I couldn’t understand how anyone could build such an intricate building, a building that represented so much not only for the Faith, but also for the nation whose people’s hard work and dedication went into its construction. Eleven years later, I’ve gotten the chance I never would have dreamed of - to experience the paradise I’d seen from afar in person. It was a powerful moment, to sit inside the folds of the flower and gaze up at the nine pointed star that formed where the petals met in the ceiling. But not everything stood up to my childhood illusions of perfection. Just outside the gates of the temple were the faded blue tarps - the houses of the slums. The fingers of poverty sprawled across the landscape for all to see. Armed guards kept watch at the gate as visitors passed through metal detectors and, once inside, people were herded into lines before being ushered, one by one, into the center of the temple. Saddened, I realized this place of spirituality has not been untouched by the violence and chaos of the city it calls home.

However disappointed I was after taking one more step toward understanding the state of the world, I was still able to enjoy the relative peace and quiet I found there. Once some of the volunteers there realized I am (was? ish..) a Baha’i, I was treated like a royal guest. No more security, no more lines, no more rigid rules. I was taken EVERYWHERE, even places that are off limits to the public, and allowed to talk for quite some time with the volunteers. I met three people from areas in or around Pune, so I’ll hopefully be able to meet up with them while I’m there. It was so nice to FINALLY be able to talk to people and be welcomed with open arms. I’ve missed having my friends around, and been waiting anxiously for the time when I’ll be able to form new relationships here. Spending a few hours with people I could converse with finally made me feel as though I am making a bit of progress. Though I enjoy being able to relax, it’s frustrating to feel as though I’m not doing anything productive. I spend a lot of time in relative solitude. Even when I’m around people, on the streets or at Shrishti’s house, I still feel like I’m living in a world of my own. Welcome to language barriers.

I’d love to be able to converse in Hindi, but even I realize it’s unrealistic to expect to pick up a new language in just over a week. Especially when you’re only hearing it, and have absolutely no former understanding of basic words, not to mention sentence structure. I’ve learned a few words: chalo (let’s go), jaldi (faster/quickly), buntar (monkey), but those hardly allow me to have basic communication, not to mention conversation. Luckily pretty much everyone is relatively fluent in English, so they at least understand what I’m saying even if they respond in Hindi. Though I get frustrated, I know that it’s unfair to expect people to talk in English just because they are with me. So, I’m trying to adjust to letting life happen around me and relying on observation to figure out what’s going on.



The Qutub Minar was breathtaking. I’ll have to find more specifics on its history when I have internet access. It’s kind of crazy to think about something existing, it’s pristine beauty in tact, for so many years. I think it was built sometime in the 1300s, and it still boasts it’s original designs and magnitude. The entire place blew me away. It’s the kind of thing you see on National Geographic or the Discovery Channel. How on earth did I end up here, walking around the former strongholds of ancient civilizations?! I wonder if the people thought, as they were building it, about what future generations would think. Did they even fathom it would be around hundreds and hundreds of years later? Their footprint has withstood the test of time, leaving us with shining examples of human excellence. It makes me wonder though... what will our footprint be? What will we leave for future generations to see?

This one's going to have to be short!

But I wanted to say hi! Things here are still going splendidly, but I have very little internet access to posting is a bit tough. Once I'm in Pune I'll be a bit more reliable I hope! Life is still filled with adventures, all of which I will go into more detail on when time permits. But! I've been getting a ton of reading done sitting on the rooftop of Shrishti's building watching the world go by. I also was able to make some new friends at the Baha'i Temple here. Funny, 'cause I watched in awe as images of it's construction were passed to me throughout my childhood, and always marveled at how beautiful it was. I never would have dreamed I would get to see it in person! I also got to go to the Qutub Minar and a super famous Hindu temple (I'll have to get back to you on the name...). It was quite the experience, and nothing like I would have expected a temple atmopshere to be.
Yesterday I got to dance in the monsoon rains on the rooftop. Talk about a downpour - I was completely soaked in 10 seconds flat. There were people on other roofs bathing in it. Not a bad idea when it's pouring that hard! The streets were all flooded, but that's normal, right?
Anyway, I'll be writing about all this stuff (Lotus Temple, Qutub Minar, Hindu temple experiences, etc) super super soon and posting pictures on here too! But for now I have to go brave the heat and make my way to Kahn Market to find a power convertor to take with me to Pune on Sunday. Hugs from Delhi!

I looooove it here!

I had the best Indian food EVER today! This will probably become a fairly regular statement over the next few months... but wow! It was some kind of dosa at a South Indian restaurant by Kahn Market in New Delhi. I’ll have to remember to start taking pictures of these dishes, but for now just trust me that it was incredible. Everything is eaten with your hand which, judging by Shrishti’s mom’s reaction to how easily I did it, is something a lot of of [USo]Americans are bothered by. I guess I’ve adapted unusually well/quickly to life here, but honestly nothing has really bothered me. I love the crowds, the noise, the smells. It adds flavor to the world. I always have my finger on the throbbing pulse of the city - everything is alive! Cars honking, rickshaws clanging their bells, people yelling, birds calling, dogs barking. The smells change as the wind shifts, or as you walk a few feet in any direction. Vibrant colors are everywhere, whether it’s fruit accenting dusty stands or the clothing draped across the women stepping over trash, mud puddles or sleeping dogs on the street.

This morning everyone piled in the car to go to the India Gate and the President’s House. Moisture from the light drizzle clung to the air, creating a beautiful haze over everything. It was a little overwhelming, standing at these historic sites I’ve seen so often in pictures and movies but never dreamed I’d have the opportunity to visit. I can’t begin to express how lucky I feel every day I wake up and discover that this is not just a wonderful dream. I was finally able to take some pictures without feeling like a touristy idiot - that’s what happens when you’re able to blend in with the 50 bajillion other tourists there! It’s touching to see how close families are here too. Many years from now, when I finally settle down, I hope that my home will be as close, as happy as this one.

And the mangos... Oh the mangos! They are SOOOO good. And so easy to get - just hop down the stairs and across the street, and there they are being sold for super super cheep! Two, three, four a day... and it’s never enough.

Mangos and monkeys.

They’re everywhere! I was laying with Shrishti, her sister and her mom watching some Bollywood movie (that I didn’t understand a word of :p) when I saw something flash by the door outside. Three monkeys! Probably the same ones from last night. There was the mom, and two babies. One of the babies was hanging below it’s mom’s belly and the other scurried behind them. They were sooooo cute!!! It was a nice distraction after being stuck inside all day. Not that sitting around doing absolutely nothing wasn’t wonderful... I’ve been camped out in front of the terrace listening to the world pass by while I read. I had forgotten how nice it is to have time for anything I want to do!

Last night I went up and sat on the rooftop of the building. It’s so peaceful there. At midnight a lot of the noise has calmed down, and a gentle breeze made the temperature perfect. The best part wasn’t the peace and serenity though. Just before leaving I turned and noticed two shapes on the roof opposite of where I was. Monkeys! A mom and her baby. I spent ALL DAY looking for monkeys, and finally I find them when it’s too dark to really see them well! I was super excited, but Shrishti was freaked and insisted we leave immediately before getting attacked. They looked harmless to me, just looking around to see what woke them up. I hope I can find more soon!

Lesson of the day: never expect the drainage system in Delhi to be functional. It’s been raining most of the morning. Actually that’s an understatement. It’s POURING. The streets were flooded within the first 20 minutes. 2-3ft of water in some places. Quite the introduction to the real meaning of "monsoon." There’s HUGE “jams” (traffic jams) all over the city and, judging by what’s being shown on the news, there will be quite a few people stuck for a looong time yet. Places in the road have collapsed and hundreds of drivers are stranded, but the children are having fun! Out dancing and splashing in the muck. There are even people kayaking through the traffic. How fun it must be to paddle between the stranded cars! Start charging the drivers to take them to dryer ground. :p People act like it’s no big deal though; back in the US something like this would wreck havoc, people would be absolutely panicked. I’ll take the boats over panic any day.

Yesterday was a lot of fun. I got my first taste of an Indian market, with all it’s sights, sounds and smells. There were soooo many people, walking around, trying to sell me spools of yarn, clothing, purses, food, etc. Well dressed girls walked right past children clothed only in rags, carrying burlap sacks full of trash. The bags were as big as they were. I felt bad for them, and for the countless beggars young and old that held their hands toward me. Their eyes were so sad, so tired. As with the children I saw on the roadside, they had no shoes and only dirty rags for clothes. I hope next time I can at least offer them food, maybe even a clean outfit. Until then I’ll have to just keep reminding myself that, as much as I might want to, I can’t give handouts to everyone. Better to try to change the system, to create a world in which each child can get an education, where parents can get decent jobs that don’t force the kids to drop out of school, where families can get enough food and clothes to wear. Little by little.

Anyway, back to the rest of the market. It was fascinating to walk around and let myself be transported from one world to another as I rounded a corner or passed through a shop door. Everything changes in an instant - the sickly sweet stench of urine and trash is replaced by the delicious smell of food cooking alongside ripening mangos; crowds of beggars turn into throngs of eager shoppers; you turn one way and a quiet street becomes a busy road with rickshaws competing with the oncoming traffic (yes, they go against traffic if it looks like it might be faster. Safe? I didn’t think so either. But it all works out, so I guess they know what they’re doing!). I picked up my first Indian outfit, and man is it comfortable! Not to mention I finally look a little more like I belong here. Got a set of cloth to take to a tailor as well. There it will be turned into an entire set - shirt, pants and scarf. It was a steal at Rs. 150 ($3), even Shrishti’s mom was impressed!

Well, the doorbell’s competing with the call to prayer from the local mosque, which means pizza (Dominoes! In India! What?!) has arrived.