Happy Republic Day! (and Australia Day...)

Yesterday was wonderfully fun!
For the holiday we got to take the day off of service, and slept in until 9:30- a real treat compared to our usual 7am wakeup time! fter a leisurely breakfast we spent the whole mrning upstairs amidst the hustle and bustle of mom and dad's floor. For the wedding whih we are attending today, our mom is letting Esty and I borrow some of her formal saris! Mine is a stunning red and gold one, for which I bought a matching blouse and petticoat today. Esty is waering a green one that compliments her complexion perfectly, and the other girls are waering an assortment of other lovely colors. We are planning to wear flowers in our hair, bangles on our wrists, and bindis on our foreheads :-)

I absolutely love Rai, mamum's daughter. She spent the whole day showing us a marvelous time. She took us by metro to a hand-loom expo just near the Maidan and the Victoria Memorial, and it had stores representing all of India's states. The mood was so festive because families were spending the day off in the sun together, and th happiness in the air was tangible and infectious. I must have been in a blue mood yesterday, becasuse the handbag, pillow case and wall hanging that I bought were all shades of the same gorgeous blue. Better than Van Gogh's yellow phase, I guess.

The best part of the day came soon after we all began to tire of shopping. With RAi's confidence, we sampled so much delicious food from the vendors! We had pani puris (called poutchkas in Bengali), which are so fun to eat because you all gather round the man making them, and the instant you pop one into your mouth he throws another one into your empty bowl! After that we had ice cream, my mango-vanilla treat perfectly soothed the spiciness of my mouth, and then we had Chat (the Indian version of nachos), and bhel puri. Even our taxi ride home was glorious, the sunlight was fading romantically, and the cab's music was the perfect background for the sites of the city passing us by.

Part Two of the day revolved around Australia Day.
Amongst the friends I have made through volunteering for Mother Theresa's various homes, many are Australian, Irish, Enlish and Finnish. Regardless of their country of origin, all are avid party animals, and wanted to take us out to celebrate Austrailia day in style. According to plan we all met at the rooftop restaurant of the lavish Lindsay Hotel in the Park Street neighborhood, but unfortunately, India's national holiday stood in the way of our night out- 26 January is a DRY DAY in India. To make a long story short, the rest of the evening was spent adventurously scouting out a good time through some of our various contacts in the local hotels, restuarants and guest houses. Australia Day ended quite pleasantly on yet another rooftop restaurant, where good friends shared lots of laughs, and many litres of King Fisher Strong.

Sunday, bloody Sunday

Nothing bloody about this Sunday, in fact Sunday's in Cal are quite wonderful. We sleep in and have a large and leisurely breakfast with our host parents. Today the table was filled with Samji (bengali curry), Luchis (delicious puffed puris that professor Roy describes as "filled with pneumatic bliss"), Jelabis (a sweet made of deep-fried, twirled batter soaked in syrup), as well as eggs, toast, cereal and chai. Aside from the food, the morning conversation is my favoirte part of our elaborate breakfasts. Today Prof. Roy told us many stories about his latefather, who was quite a character. He was an amateur astrologist, a true fatalist indeed,who also served in the prestigious British Indian army.

We (all of us but Brandi) plan to spend this afternoon visiting the Victoria Memorial and the Planetarium; I think that Brandi had the right idea to spend some time alone exploring and relaxing at her own pace. I am getting a bit overwhelmed by being around everyone all of the time, but have found great solace in the ecclectic library that my professor keeps. Suprisingly (since we share a room and spend most of our time together), Esty and I have been getting along very well. It doesn't even seem as if we are just scraping by trying not to get on one another's nerves, we have actually found out how well we get along and how similar our tastes and preferences are- besides, we still have 4 months ahead of us together, and we can't jeopardize our travel plans by fighting.

I've heard that there is snow at home, and the temperatures sound atrocious...I Feel so removed from that being in India (and, thank god, by the time I return to the states it will be summer!). I have adjusted quickly to the warm weather here, so much so that I find myself shivering and wearing extra layers when the temperature dips below 70!

Lately my thoughts have been turning slightly dark- don't worry, I am still the optimist at heart, but an increasingly cynical one. I can't help that questions arise as to the validity of my service, in different ways. One plaguing question concerns my necessity to these operations.I also find fault with certain aspects of the MT organization, mostly in terms of the medical care and education that these children and adults are receiving (or rather, are not). For example, there are two very beautiful brothers in the handicapped section of Shishu Bhavan, and both seem to be in almost constant pain [without much of a prowess as far as diagnosis is concerned, I am guessing that they suffer from both polio- based on their stiff and skinny limbs, and TB or some other terrible respiratory disease based on their constant wheezing (and one morning I found the older brother's mouth full of a bloody foam)]. I am almost sure that if they received medical attention they could be free from pain, if not cured-and I wonder where my responsability lies in this situation. Especially since the day before yesterday I overheard one of the sisters tell a visitor that she didn't think the boys would survive very much longer. Another issue that I grapple with about my service is its purity- I feel that I am getting so much pleasure from it, I love spending my days with the kids (I call them my babies), and think that I have found my calling or vocation, but does that really help the children? Isn't service meant to be more of a sacrifice? Is the work that I am doing less valid because I find it so easy? (Easy in that when I am there I am completely lost in the moment and am relatively skilled, patient, and creative with the kids. Not so easy in terms of the emotional and physical exhaustion that I deal with every afternoon when I return home.) Also, the IPSL program in general, is working for Mother Theresa just something for us to pat ourselves on the back about? And how genuinely Indian is my experience? Everything that I do is laid out for me, and I feel as if I am not venturing into uncharted territory (perhaps in my own mind and soul, but certainbly it has all been done before...)

This vein of thought is not to say that I am not appreciating the amazing opportunities that I am being offered here, I am more than willing to take advantage as best I can of everything that I can get my hands on.

PS- Thanks Gabe, for always reading my blog and leaving me comments :-)

Happy Birthday Esty

The homeopathic medicine seems to have worked well on me, I am much recovered- but Esty the skeptic is still phlegmy, hmmmm. Yesterday was her birthday, and to celebrate we all went to The Kurry Klub (a fusion restaurant in our neighborhood) for Mexican food- Indians definately have the spiciness down, though the subtle flavors (and even basic ingredients) are quite different. After lunch some of us went to the Fine Arts Museum; India's concept of historic preservation is completely different than our own. The museum had its doors open to the street, there was no entrance fee, and the three rooms full of paintings were ungaurded, perfect for a leisurely stroll. Some of the art was amazing, and some simply did not belong there, either way it made me feel incredibly creative, I wonder what field I will create in...

Our host mother, Professor Sreela Roy, took our whole group to the American Centre, where we saw Fulbright Scholar Dr. Brian Russo perform in two plays: "Love Letters," by AR Gurney, and "The Zoo Story" by Edward Albee. What an amazing education I am getting here! At the end of The Zoo Story, the main character runs into the outstretched knife of Peter, the accidental co-star, and says (as he lays dying) "Peter, I have come unto you, and you have conforted me." Brandi Googled the line, as it sounded biblically familiar, and we discovered that "I have come unto you" is a common phrase used in the Egyptian Book of the Dead upon reaching the kingdom of heaven, and "And you comforted me" comes from the Book of Ruth in the New Testament. Perhaps unintersting to some, but unravelling allusions is quite entertaining for those of us without TVs.

For Esty's birthday we had a big dinner with our host family, Sreela even blew the conch shell and served us a sweet Indian rice pudding with nuts and raisins in it. I only had a bite before passing mine off to Zach, who is fond of saying that he and I have a symbiotic relationship, "I give him my deserts, and he gives me nothing." He makes me laugh, especially when he speaks to Choto-da in waht Esty and I have dubbed his "caveman voice," you know the tone people assume when speaking to people of another language as if they were slow children.

Speaking of children! We took all of the handicapped Shishu Bhavan kids onto the roof after breakfast this morning and played in the sun alllll morning. It was wonderful, and I think the kids really enjoyed it. I have really found an affinity with the few blind children I have worked with so far, and I really think I have found my calling.

Cultural Explosion

Aside from the constant barrage of sensual stimulation from the sites and sounds of the Indian streets, we are also fortunate enough to be offered outrageous amounts o fcultural stimulation. I cannot yet get over how tight-knit (and also also all-encompassing in terms of ideology and nationality) the community of intelligensia is in Kolkata. Our professors provide us with a web of connections in the worlds of art, literature, theatre and politics.

Art Opening of modern Indian artist Paritosh Sen
Paritosh is a cranky and eccentric old man who spent his youth in the Parisian heyday of cubistic and expressionist art, and became close friends with Picasso (clearly evident in his work). He is also close friends with our professor Kalyan Ray, thus we were afforded the opportunity to mix and mingle with Kolkata's art elite. We all got decked out and spent the evening enjoying appetizers and drinks, and feigned great interest in his work- we even had to pose for papparazzi shots! One of the strange characters we met was a thirty-something art collector/fashion designer from Delhi who kept referring to our city as "Cal," and invited us out for drinks at a club later that night- we politely declined.

Book reading/signing of "Eastwords" by Kalyan Ray
Kalyan's most recent novel Eastwords, a vivid postmodern story integrating Shakespeare's thoughts into an Indian fantasy, was released at Oxford Bookstore, and covered widely in the Kolkata press. As I have mentioned before, Kalyan's family is well-known in the India's Indi film world- his wife is an award-winning director (of such films as Mr. and Mrs. Ayer, which his daughter Konkona starred in), and his daughter is arenowned actor. Both took part n the event, and were extremely friendly- Konkona even offeren (enthusiasticly) to take us out toa night club some time. The next day we went and saw he rmost recent film "Amu," abou the 1984 riots against the Sikhs when Indira Ghandi was assasinated. How strange to see someone that you know up on the big screen!

Lecture on "Environment and Religion" by Vandana Shiva at the Rama Krishna Mission Institute of Culture
Vandana in an amazing woman! She is a renowned Indian environmental activist, whose philosoph of non-violence and preservation, as well as her stance on Intellectual property laws, commerce, and agriculture are all rooted in a deeply spiritual place. She explained that ecological responsability comes from the fact that all life is an expression of the divine consciousness, therefore all life is sacred, and we have a duty to protect it. The topics she covered ranged from humanity's loss of ecological intelligence (in terms of animal's 6th sense to protect themselves from natural disasters) to the nonsense business of "life patenting" which makes it impossible for rural Indian farmers to get their hands on productive seeds.Indian peasants, some of history's most hardy and resillient peoples, are now commiting suicide in record numbers because of this. Vandana was also part of the orginal "Tree hugger" movement of the 1970's, and currently travels the country writing books, lecturing, helping farmers, and engaging in (and winning) lawsuits regarding life patenting.

Meet the Author- Kumal Basu "The Opium Clerk" and "The Miniaturist"
Our home is a wild place- students and professors are constantly streaming through the doors, and the roof is always used in one fashion or another. One evening we were terrified by the sound of a loud and passionate quarrel coming from above, we feared that our host parents were fighting. Fortunately, and quite comically, we discovered that our rooftop was the main reherasal space for a travelling theatre group (which makes sense, since our Professor Amitava Roy is the president of the Shakespeare Society of East India, and the Tagore Ghandi Institute). Our rooftop was also the site for an "Adda," an informal conversation, with the Indian author Kumal Basu- he has been pegged as a writer of historical fiction, but his 3rd novel (which will be released next January) is quite different, it is about the scientific rivalry between scientists in the time of Darwin to answer the question of human variation. 2 theories (monogenism- that humans are all one species, though heirarchial, and polygenism- that different races are members of different species, and are inherently violent) are pitted against eachother in an experiment on a deserted island. The experiement consists of a dumb nurse watching over and testing the intelligence of a white girlchild, and a black boy- both will essentially be raised as ferral children, and the 2 theories of the scientists are that either the girl will return to society superior to the boy, or that one of them will kill the other. Kumal's 4th novel, of which he has yet to write a word, takes place in a fancy sex club in Bangkok, and is an existential study of the Buddhist philosophy of divine suffering. Interestingly, Kumal teaches advanced finance and marketting at Oxford. His books are hard to find, but if possibl, buy them!

Gandhiji's Talisman

"Whenever you are in doubt or when the self becomes too much with you, apply the following test:

Recall the face of the poorest and the weakest man whom you have ever seen and ask yourself if the step you contemplate is going to be of any use to him. Will he gain anything by it? Will it restore him to a control over his own life and destiny? In other words, will it lead to swaraj for the hungry and spiritually starving millions? Then you will find your doubt and your self melting away."

India was a haven for so many brilliant thinkers and do-ers, Gandhi and Mother Theresa to name a few, and they all left behind them wonderful examples of deeds and words. I try to remind myself everyday of their teachings, and keep them with me as constantly as possible in my daily life here- whether it is at Shushu Bhavan where I am feeding or playing with a handicapped child, or when I am sitting down to a delicious meal with my host family. As I have said before, every moment here is an adventure, and a beautiful one at that.

2 January 2005
Setting: New Dehli train stationr journey to Kolkata
Feeling: Disgusted, mostly with myself
We have been habitually filling ourselves tothe point of discomfort, and it doesn't seem fair when we see those starving around us. One beautiful part of India is that it is a mosaic- the juxtaposition of tradition and modernity (ex: a sari-clad woman on the back of a motorcycle) is picturesque, but in the same regard the absolutely filthy rich live a stone's throw away from the desperately poor, and the two walk and live intermingled with one another. It serves as a constant reminder of injustice. Since I can't give my rupees to every individual I am forced to ignore them all, and it hurts so much. My struggle is to take this awareness that I am gaining and not only apply it to my actions here, but to my life upon my return home. More than that, how can I affect those around me back home without being preachy and self-righteous? I found a nice quote in a magazine, it made me think of my mother, and the daughter I may have in the future: "Suddenly, through birthing a daughter, a woman finds herself face-to-face not only with an infant, a little girl, a woman-to-be, but also with her own unresolved conflicts from the past and her hopes and dreams for the future." Thanks mom, for sending me here and taking good care of me.

3 January, 2005
Exhausted and uncomfortable from the constant travel, in combination with the fact that our train was delayed by several hours- my mind was not focused on the early part of our train journey, or the family with whom we shared our compartment, rather I could only remember a heart-breaking day in late March of last year and all of the thoughts and feelings that Tom bestowed on me to carry for the rest of my life. He is on my mind everyday here.

later, 3 January, 2005
I decided to put my bad mood out of my mind, and found myself enjoying the fabulous views that a cross-country train ride could offer. I have become obsessed with the beautiful colors of the fabrics that families hang outside of their homes to dry. The rest of the journey was amazing, I befriended the family in our compartment and now I have an invitation to their home in Calcutta where the mother will cook exotic treats for us and share some of her bangles. The father has offered to take us to his office (which is ont he 15th story of a government building) so we can see the view. I am amazed by Indian families. The husn\band and wife share sucha beautiful bond- they are so attentive to one another, and it is clear that they come first in eachother's eyes, even before their children. Devendra, the father, spent hours teaching us about Hindu wedding and marriage customs, and inspired me for how to live and love the rest of my life. He also told us many vivid stories about Brahma, Vishnu, Laxmi, Shiva, Parvati, Kali, Ganesh, the river Ganges, karma, reincarnation.... His daughter and her Sikh friend were very friendly, and taught me dozens of words and phrases in Hindi, and constantly laughed at my pronounciation (for Indians an American accent is much more difficult to understand than a British one).
In the end our 18-hour train ride turned out to take about 25 hours, but it was well worth it.

4 January, 2005
Last night we arrived in Kolkata. Packing all of us into the car at the train station, amidst the overwhelming bustle of begging children, talented and assertive porters, and honking vehicles was a challenge. To make the time pass, Esty, Luke, Brandy and I told intensely difficult riddles- this also helped to keep my tears away, I felt them coming constantly. Esty and the two boys and I have the great fortune of living with Professor Amitava Roy and his wife Professor Srila Roy. Their home is beautiful! It is 3 stories of stone and marble, the outside is red with fantastically curved walls, and it stays very cool in the heat of the day. Choto-da is our friendly and energetic cook. Not only does he feed us 3x a day, but he also boils and filters all of our water, opens the door when we get locked out, teaches us phrases in Bengali, and makes us laugh.
Our morning was spent with the other girls looking for phones and internet, but Esty and I quickly split off and experienced some local life. I bought bangles, she bought a scarf, and we both got our eyebrows threaded.
Choto-da set up mosquito nets around our beds, so we feel like we are sleeping in forts at night! To compensate for the extraordinarily hard "mattresses" that we sleep on, Esty and I laid our sleeping pads (for hiking) and our sleeping bags under our sheets. I also stuffed my "pillow" with a big wool sweater. Upon waking this morning I thought that this must be what is meant by living life. I rise early in the morning to the sound of the birds, before the sun even shines, sit down to every meal with ravenous hunger, spend the day exploring and full of energy and with senses heightened, and lay my head to pillow with dreams already floating in my sleepy mind. Although it only costs 2rs/piece to give the washing lady our clothes, Esty and I have been doing our washing on the balcony early in the morning by hand, using dove soap. After drying in the sun they smell so good!

5 January, 2005
Last night Luke, Brandy and I went out for a beer, and had a pleasant time rambling about the maladies of our educational system, as well as our own pesonalities and motivations. Brandy and I were both surprised and pleased when we caught Luke smoking from a pack of cigarettes that he had bought- the fact that he is a closet-smoker gives us hope that there is more to his completely earnest (though endearing) personality.
This morning Luke and I got up with the birds and went runing, long before 6 am. We intended to find the nearby park called The Lakes, but instead got ourselves trememndously lost. Getting lost is so much fun in India. We stumbled upon a colorful sidewalk produce market and what essentially amounts to an entire city that sleeps on the streets. Early on in the run we felt like disgusting Americans for being involved in the silly excess of going out for a jog when others are just trying to survive, but then we relaxed and began to enjoy ourselves. It feels so good that by the time most people are waking I have already run, gone exploring, and showered- how can everyone else sleep through life?!
Esty and I hit the jackpot in Professor Roy's library! We dug through his collection of dusty books, and made out like bandits. Among his books that are up for grabs are many titles by: Emerson, Faulkner, Vonnegut, Rilke, Sartre, Hegel, and moremoremore.
Professor Kalyan Ray popped by for a visit today, he is a strikingly handsome man! Zach referred to him as an Indian Sean Connery. I think I have sung his (and his wife's and daughter's) praises in a seperate entry, so I won't repeat them here.

After our orientation at the Mother House
I have to admit that I did a bit of swooning over Jeremiah, the kid who gave us an overview of procedures within Mother Theresa's homes. He is a hippie, Catholic philosophy major from Seatle who is taking a year off from college to live in Kolkata. Not only did he give us great advice, which I will share with you in a moment, but he also invited us to join his friends on Thursdays to play Ultimate Frisbee!
Regarding our work at Shishu /bhavan, he reminded us that the children will hopefully be adopted, so we must make sure that they are as self-sufficient as possible. EAsier said than done, especially when the children love so much to be held and fed.
About beggars, he told us primarily not to give money to anyone outside of Mother's homes- we don't want to encourage beggin. He also told us that 90% of the beggars are working for the Indian "mafia," to whom they will turn over the spoils of their labor. We aren't to give money, instead we should buy a meal and sit down and eat it with them. Another idea he gave us for helping is to buy the homeless people wool blankets, although it is warm to us, it is winter here in Kolkata.
Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that the population of India is 80% male, but he told us to be aware of offensive male behavior. Surprisingly, he told us that the biggest thing we can do in those situations is to DO SOMETHING- it will shame them in public, and they will profusely apologize. As of yet I haven't had any trouble in that department.

Happy New Year!

31 December 2004
Today we visited Humayun's Tomb (generously reconstructed by a $500,000 grant from the Agha Khan Trust, Qutub Menar (the oldest mosque in the area, also our first run-in with an Indian-style toilet), and the Lotus Temple (where not only did we learna great deal about teh beautiful Ba'hai faith, but also bumped into Rob Coyl, a classmate from our India class last semester! PS- we were thinking of you the whole time Katherine). We also saw a snake charmer, which terrified me. Instead of wildly celebrating the New Year we went to bed exhausted from travel.

1 January 2005
Oh my god! We visited the Taj Mahal, so beautiful and gargantuan, literally a Palace of Love. I hope someone will build one for me some day, hinthint...I had 2 fantastic stroked of good fortune on this visit. First, I paid only 20 rupees for my entrance fee(as opposed to the 750rs that my groupmates paid for being white) because I asked for my ticket in Hindi. Second, Esty and I had our photo taken with BILLY CORGAN, of the Smashing Pumpkins, hooray!

Journalling

Allow me to give you a brief description of our wild travels thus far...

29 December 2004
We started our trip by spending 10 hours in a Jordanian airport meeting interesting folks- the most noteworthy was a beautiful French girl (who already had her Masters in International Law!) who was returning to Cambodia where she had been working.

30 December 2004 (my journal entry reads:)
Touched down in Dehli. Cried tears of joy, overwhelmed by feelings of having waited a lifetime for this moment. Immediately struck by the smell of the air. Not unpleasant, sweet, cool, and although very thick it is still refreshing. Surprised by how cool it is outside. Professor (Arnab) Rey met us in the air port, and i instantly liked him. His calm demeanor, sharp intelligence, and extremely dry humor were clearly evident....We headed outside with our tremndous loads of luggage where we were assaulted by about a dozen men snatching their hands all over our bags to help carry them to the waiting van. I mistakenly paid my two porters 100 rupees each (about 50 cents) before I realized the THE PROFESSOR (as we so fondly call him) would pay the entire group of agents 300 rupees total. We packed into the small van after seeing our luggage precariously assembled on its roof, and experienced Indian traffic for the first time- what an adventure! The vehicles come in all styles and sizes, mostly all are quite dillapidated, though many are festively decorated with Hindu symbols and random artwork/lights/tassles/etc. The rules of the road are loosely adhered to, especially lane divisions. Drivers pass from lane to lane constantly with only a horn's notice. Small vehicles are constantly honking at large ones to move aside, and people are constantly swerving within centimetres of eachother crossing into opposing traffic. The speed bumps are enormous, and the car must nearly come to a complete stop to overcome them- thus hurling your stomach into your mouth before dropping it to your feet. Everyone stares at us from their windows- we must be incredibly fascinating American specimens.

I'm here!

Esty and I have made it safe and sound, and are already having amazing adventures. Getting in touch with people has been extremely difficult, due to among other things a hectic schedule, the 11 (or 10.5) hour time difference, and frustratingly slow computers- so please forgive my laxness in that department.

I hate to over-use the word amazing, but that is the best way to describe the weather, the food, the people, the culture, the places we have visited thus far! There are seven of us students travelling together- ranging from a recent high school grad who has never left the country, to some college students who (not including myself) have travelled to Africa and around the world. Even more fortunately, we have wonderfully bright and compassionate professors here to guide and care for us.

I am living in the home of Professor Amitaba Roy and his wife Professor Krishna Roy, along with Esty, Luke and Zach. We have already become close to the two of them, and treat them as our parent. We have also become close to Choto-da, our cook who also boils and filters our water, teaches us phrases in Bengali, and helps us get back into our rooms when we lock our keys out. The other three girls live across the street with a Hindu widow and her daughter. Her son is a movie star, and so is his wife! Speaking of fame, another of our Professors, Kalian Rey, is a published novelist, his wife is an award-winning director of indi films, and his wife is an award-winning actress of the same genre!