This weekend, I'm in my dear Hosur once again using this slow computer that has, weekend after weekend, eased my longing for the world wide web. Then, after sending you all my love, the volunteers are going to meet up with all the teachers to enjoy an Indian lunch which will most likely include: chicken, mushy vegetables, some powerfully flavored sauces and some scrumptious Indian bread. By the way, I think that in southern India, the concept of "al dente" vegetables would be incomprehensible. They cook and re-cook and re-boil vegetables till they become so soft that you basically have to scoop it off the plate as if it were Gerber.
In reference to dining I must also mention that I am finally brilliant at eating only with my right hand. You know how western etiquette claims that pushing yourself with the knife is bad manners? I have always thought it was a stupid rule, simply impractical. Well, at least the Indians have a perfectly good and legitimate reason for not using their left hand, if you know what I mean. I have gotten really good at keeping it either under the table or nowadays even resting next to my plate without even moving it slightly before remembering not to use it. It was really awkward at the beginning, when I couldn't help but rip the chapattis (basically an Indian tortilla) with both my hands. The younger children would look at me with a puzzled face and very frankly whisper to my ear: "Miss Blue Jay, put your left hand away", haha, it was really cute but certainly a bit embarrassing.
Another particular habit that at first I had to get used to but now brings me satisfaction is the fact that apart from the rice, I have been eating only with my hand (singular) and barely ever using utensils. Although they do have forks available, Indian food is most often, made to be eaten with your hand. The way the teachers do it is amazing. The way they move their fingers to quickly and neatly assemble bites and then place them at the tip of their mouth without spilling a drop is seriously a mechanism that requires practice. Usually you scoop out the lentil juice and vegetables from a small bowl with whatever type of Indian bread or tortilla you get that day. At first I was a mess at it, I would spill everywhere and would never be able to scoop out the right amount of juice, making my bites entirely disappointing. Now, although I have yet to manage how to do it as gracefully as my fellow Indian teachers, I no longer appear to eat like a blind chicken and food even tastes better when I eat with my hand =).
That's all for now, I'll see you back here soon!
I miss you.
Friday, September 26, 2008
How about the word Narrow?
Hey Everyone!
So there are a few things happening around here. First of all, Shanti-Bhavan was featured in The Times of India. Mrs. Lalita Law, the principle, was interviewed about the school and its current financial crisis. It highlighted the wonderful things this school is doing for these children but also points out that the financial situation is a dire one and proposes possible ways of aiding the organization. Currently the administration is not yet apt to adequately deal with the marketing processes being implemented, since they had never dealt with lack of funds before. But we all trust that the transition from an NGO funded by a single individual to one that will sustain itself through fundraising and sponsorships, will come to pass successfully.
Aside from the daily power cuts, everything is going well at the school. I look forward to waking up each morning to be with my 4th graders. I love something about every single child in that classroom and although they have their flaws and some of them are obnoxiously loud or hyperactive, I feel like I can relate to that side of them ;). Everyone in the school has become a familiar face and I have never felt more appreciated or more welcomed by such a large group of people before; the beauty of it is that, that is simply the nature of this place and everyone here; they embrace anyone who steps into their haven.
Among the volunteers, we are establishing really awesome friendships. Our afternoons, after we all drag ourselves to our building in complete exhaustion, involve sitting in our back porch for hours. As we sit surrounded by large papaya and coconut trees, looking out into the deep green fields of rural India, we sip on black Indian coffee and converse about our day, or the children or life. It's much needed and very pleasurable down time.
A few days ago I substituted for a 9th grade creative writing class while the 4th graders had Hindi. One girl came up to me and asked if she could use the word "anorexic" instead of the word skinny in reference to A ROAD! "Hmmmm, using that word in that context would be incorrect, you see: anorexia is a human disease referred to as an eating disorder in which A PERSON becomes very skinny and unhealthy. Why don't you use the word, narrow instead? ", I answered. "Thanks Blue Jay", she replied and with a pleased smile, she sat back down. WOAH!!! I was so surprised. I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing that she was clueless about the meaning and weight of the word. The truth is that at some point before these kids go out into the real world, out of this healthy and righteous little bubble, they must be prepared to know these kinds of things. Suparna and I have decided to organize seminars on some important issues: Maintaining Healthy Relationships; Life Outside of Shanti-Bhavan and a third that will be held just for girls, Our Bodies: Self- Consciousness and Self-Confidence. We will present them to Mrs. Law in the next few days, who I'm sure will be all for it, and hopefully hold them in the coming weeks. I'll let you know how they go.
Guess what??? Next week we get two days off. Why? Because it's GANDHI'S BIRTHDAY! Yep, a national holiday here in India. We are thrilled! Recommended by my high school English teacher, Mr. Barber, who lived in India for a couple years, five of us volunteers will be taking an overnight train to Hampi. He mentioned that it was one of the most beautiful places in India and according to my Lonely Planet it is indeed a major pit stop on the traveler circuit. Hampi is an abandoned 15th century city north east of Bangalore that is set in a landscape of giant granite boulders, lush paddies and banana plantations. We have planned the entire 4 day trip and in the agenda are: rock climbing, which is something the city is known for, biking through the ruins in the "royal centre" of the city, sleeping in bungalows, taking walks through banana plantations to explore the waterfalls and rock pools that surround parts of the city and off course visiting the famous Virupaksha temple and its pet elephant Lakshmi...I hope the experience is just as great as it sounds. I'll tell you all about it when I get back.
So there are a few things happening around here. First of all, Shanti-Bhavan was featured in The Times of India. Mrs. Lalita Law, the principle, was interviewed about the school and its current financial crisis. It highlighted the wonderful things this school is doing for these children but also points out that the financial situation is a dire one and proposes possible ways of aiding the organization. Currently the administration is not yet apt to adequately deal with the marketing processes being implemented, since they had never dealt with lack of funds before. But we all trust that the transition from an NGO funded by a single individual to one that will sustain itself through fundraising and sponsorships, will come to pass successfully.
Aside from the daily power cuts, everything is going well at the school. I look forward to waking up each morning to be with my 4th graders. I love something about every single child in that classroom and although they have their flaws and some of them are obnoxiously loud or hyperactive, I feel like I can relate to that side of them ;). Everyone in the school has become a familiar face and I have never felt more appreciated or more welcomed by such a large group of people before; the beauty of it is that, that is simply the nature of this place and everyone here; they embrace anyone who steps into their haven.
Among the volunteers, we are establishing really awesome friendships. Our afternoons, after we all drag ourselves to our building in complete exhaustion, involve sitting in our back porch for hours. As we sit surrounded by large papaya and coconut trees, looking out into the deep green fields of rural India, we sip on black Indian coffee and converse about our day, or the children or life. It's much needed and very pleasurable down time.
A few days ago I substituted for a 9th grade creative writing class while the 4th graders had Hindi. One girl came up to me and asked if she could use the word "anorexic" instead of the word skinny in reference to A ROAD! "Hmmmm, using that word in that context would be incorrect, you see: anorexia is a human disease referred to as an eating disorder in which A PERSON becomes very skinny and unhealthy. Why don't you use the word, narrow instead? ", I answered. "Thanks Blue Jay", she replied and with a pleased smile, she sat back down. WOAH!!! I was so surprised. I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing that she was clueless about the meaning and weight of the word. The truth is that at some point before these kids go out into the real world, out of this healthy and righteous little bubble, they must be prepared to know these kinds of things. Suparna and I have decided to organize seminars on some important issues: Maintaining Healthy Relationships; Life Outside of Shanti-Bhavan and a third that will be held just for girls, Our Bodies: Self- Consciousness and Self-Confidence. We will present them to Mrs. Law in the next few days, who I'm sure will be all for it, and hopefully hold them in the coming weeks. I'll let you know how they go.
Guess what??? Next week we get two days off. Why? Because it's GANDHI'S BIRTHDAY! Yep, a national holiday here in India. We are thrilled! Recommended by my high school English teacher, Mr. Barber, who lived in India for a couple years, five of us volunteers will be taking an overnight train to Hampi. He mentioned that it was one of the most beautiful places in India and according to my Lonely Planet it is indeed a major pit stop on the traveler circuit. Hampi is an abandoned 15th century city north east of Bangalore that is set in a landscape of giant granite boulders, lush paddies and banana plantations. We have planned the entire 4 day trip and in the agenda are: rock climbing, which is something the city is known for, biking through the ruins in the "royal centre" of the city, sleeping in bungalows, taking walks through banana plantations to explore the waterfalls and rock pools that surround parts of the city and off course visiting the famous Virupaksha temple and its pet elephant Lakshmi...I hope the experience is just as great as it sounds. I'll tell you all about it when I get back.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Baba and Amma
This week, the children had to write letters to their parents inviting them to attend parent-teacher day coming up on October 12th. I had to correct their letters and address each one. Reading those words was heartrending but they certainly put life in perspective. Most went something along these lines:
"Hello, Baba and Amma. I miss you...I hope you are doing well. I am writing to you, to invite you to come visit me. I have not heard from you but I hope that the family is healthy. I hope you are not feeling cold at night... I know you might not understand this letter but...I love you."
It baffles me to think that these children are learning so many things in school, the 11th graders even preparing for their board exams to attend university. Meanwhile their parents, those of them who are still around, don't even know how to read. (I asked them how their parents would understand the letter they were sending, and they explained that they go to someone in the village that can read and that knows English, no matter how far they have to walk). I often see myself in my parents; there are so many things about them that I admire, that I love and that I strive to live up to. It's crazy to think that these kids are now so disconnected from their parents in every sense of the word...even the 10-year old 4th graders. And although they have found a family here at Shanti-Bhavan and this place has become their second home, there is still nothing like the guidance and love of your own parents and the warmth you feel when you stand next to the two people that love you the most in the entire world. Indeed, this school has done something amazing for them; it has not only provided them with an exemplary education but it has given them a sense of self-worth: "You are not untouchable..." They have been blessed with opportunity; yet their story is still a sad one.
These children have shared their experiences with me, and although they are probably some of the most horrifying or heartbreaking accounts I've ever heard, they do it in a way that the last sentence always makes one smile, and then with very humble and honest gratitude they hug me and say "thank you for listening". I have always been known to be optimistic and hopeful; I like to think I am. But these days, I have experienced a different and deeper type of "looking up"...regardless of how tough their lives have been, they embrace the fact that the chance they got is a great one and that they must strive to be the best they can be everyday, trying to leave their traumas behind. Their stories should be told...is it not these stories that make us realize how fortunate we really are? Yes the world is the way it is, there are the fortunate, the less fortunate and the many people in between...these facts and this place have made me further question what I can do with my predestined privileges, and although I think it is "a lifelong question", I'm grateful to be here right now, it makes sense to me. Life here has become routine, a really nice one. The weeks are flying by and I wish they wouldn't; I can't believe I've already been here for almost 2 months. As I teach something new everyday, I am also learning more about life and myself than I ever have before. I guess it takes children sometimes to help see human virtues at their essence. And seeing this country and getting to know this rich culture has certainly widened my world perspective.
Outside of the classroom, the "guest house building" is an experience of its own. The dynamics change completely every time there is a new volunteer. It started with all girls, and at one point one poor high-school boy who I think we drove half insane with our "girl talks". Now there are four ladies and two guys. Derek, one of the guys, volunteered here a couple years ago before he went to grad school and has now returned knowing all the strings. He is a great person. With him as the mastermind we are putting together some proposals to fund raise for the school. We will send the proposals to non-profits and grant donors all over the United States and India. He is an engineer that did his graduate research on water resources in Africa. Suparna worked in publishing for four years, Anitha (another volunteer) worked in PR for Ralph Lauren before she came here, and Neil, the other guy, is a web designer who is very talented; so all together they are an amazing group and through them I have been learning very much. I'm happy to have encountered all these amazing people who are young yet experienced, super nice and who at the same time, share my passion for helping these remarkable children.
"Hello, Baba and Amma. I miss you...I hope you are doing well. I am writing to you, to invite you to come visit me. I have not heard from you but I hope that the family is healthy. I hope you are not feeling cold at night... I know you might not understand this letter but...I love you."
It baffles me to think that these children are learning so many things in school, the 11th graders even preparing for their board exams to attend university. Meanwhile their parents, those of them who are still around, don't even know how to read. (I asked them how their parents would understand the letter they were sending, and they explained that they go to someone in the village that can read and that knows English, no matter how far they have to walk). I often see myself in my parents; there are so many things about them that I admire, that I love and that I strive to live up to. It's crazy to think that these kids are now so disconnected from their parents in every sense of the word...even the 10-year old 4th graders. And although they have found a family here at Shanti-Bhavan and this place has become their second home, there is still nothing like the guidance and love of your own parents and the warmth you feel when you stand next to the two people that love you the most in the entire world. Indeed, this school has done something amazing for them; it has not only provided them with an exemplary education but it has given them a sense of self-worth: "You are not untouchable..." They have been blessed with opportunity; yet their story is still a sad one.
These children have shared their experiences with me, and although they are probably some of the most horrifying or heartbreaking accounts I've ever heard, they do it in a way that the last sentence always makes one smile, and then with very humble and honest gratitude they hug me and say "thank you for listening". I have always been known to be optimistic and hopeful; I like to think I am. But these days, I have experienced a different and deeper type of "looking up"...regardless of how tough their lives have been, they embrace the fact that the chance they got is a great one and that they must strive to be the best they can be everyday, trying to leave their traumas behind. Their stories should be told...is it not these stories that make us realize how fortunate we really are? Yes the world is the way it is, there are the fortunate, the less fortunate and the many people in between...these facts and this place have made me further question what I can do with my predestined privileges, and although I think it is "a lifelong question", I'm grateful to be here right now, it makes sense to me. Life here has become routine, a really nice one. The weeks are flying by and I wish they wouldn't; I can't believe I've already been here for almost 2 months. As I teach something new everyday, I am also learning more about life and myself than I ever have before. I guess it takes children sometimes to help see human virtues at their essence. And seeing this country and getting to know this rich culture has certainly widened my world perspective.
Outside of the classroom, the "guest house building" is an experience of its own. The dynamics change completely every time there is a new volunteer. It started with all girls, and at one point one poor high-school boy who I think we drove half insane with our "girl talks". Now there are four ladies and two guys. Derek, one of the guys, volunteered here a couple years ago before he went to grad school and has now returned knowing all the strings. He is a great person. With him as the mastermind we are putting together some proposals to fund raise for the school. We will send the proposals to non-profits and grant donors all over the United States and India. He is an engineer that did his graduate research on water resources in Africa. Suparna worked in publishing for four years, Anitha (another volunteer) worked in PR for Ralph Lauren before she came here, and Neil, the other guy, is a web designer who is very talented; so all together they are an amazing group and through them I have been learning very much. I'm happy to have encountered all these amazing people who are young yet experienced, super nice and who at the same time, share my passion for helping these remarkable children.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Faith
Every day at the morning assembly, the staff and the children all put our hands together, bow our heads and recite a prayer. I have come to love it and I have truly submersed myself in the words. At Santa Clara I found a beautiful faith community and I must admit that before I came here, I was afraid of being away from a practicing Christian community. My faithfulness was strong but at times I couldn’t imagine ways maintaining a commitment to my faith practices when my usual sight here would be statues of Ganesh and Krishna. I was wrong.
In this place I have found a spiritual strength that I didn’t expect, but unknowingly I think I was in search for it. Now, I have not done the usual Ashram, yoga, meditation stuff that is usually related to spiritual healing or finding deeper faith. But Indian people, at least all the ones I’ve seen and met are inspiring in the way they all uphold their particular faiths yet still embrace the fact that all religions, especially the many present in this culture all hold similar universal teachings. In their faiths I have seen honest devotion and although some of their rituals seem more bizarre to me than anything I’ve ever seen before, their loyalty is contagious. So, although I miss kneeling in the pews of the beautiful mission church with my sponsee Jamie next to me, and my spiritual director, Fr. Matt sitting across the way, I now more than ever believe that God truly is everywhere and more importantly deep within us.
It’s a really beautiful prayer that I though I would share:
God, creator of the universe, help us remember that you are present in each one of us. May we respect each other and be tolerant of our differences.
May we be good and caring towards each other.
May the teachings of all the great world religions direct out thoughts and actions.
Grant that we may be spiritual in our interactions and zealous in our work and play.
Help us discover different ways to serve our fellow humanity.
Guide us to discover the treasure hidden in each one of us and to uphold what is right, cherish what is beautiful and revere what is divine.
As we journey through each day of our lives, give us the grace to accept whatever you have in store for us.
Be with us in our joy and our sorrow.
Help us to build Shanti-Bhavan into a haven of Peace and let this peace touch the lives of all we meet.
We salute the divine in each other, Namaste.
In this place I have found a spiritual strength that I didn’t expect, but unknowingly I think I was in search for it. Now, I have not done the usual Ashram, yoga, meditation stuff that is usually related to spiritual healing or finding deeper faith. But Indian people, at least all the ones I’ve seen and met are inspiring in the way they all uphold their particular faiths yet still embrace the fact that all religions, especially the many present in this culture all hold similar universal teachings. In their faiths I have seen honest devotion and although some of their rituals seem more bizarre to me than anything I’ve ever seen before, their loyalty is contagious. So, although I miss kneeling in the pews of the beautiful mission church with my sponsee Jamie next to me, and my spiritual director, Fr. Matt sitting across the way, I now more than ever believe that God truly is everywhere and more importantly deep within us.
It’s a really beautiful prayer that I though I would share:
God, creator of the universe, help us remember that you are present in each one of us. May we respect each other and be tolerant of our differences.
May we be good and caring towards each other.
May the teachings of all the great world religions direct out thoughts and actions.
Grant that we may be spiritual in our interactions and zealous in our work and play.
Help us discover different ways to serve our fellow humanity.
Guide us to discover the treasure hidden in each one of us and to uphold what is right, cherish what is beautiful and revere what is divine.
As we journey through each day of our lives, give us the grace to accept whatever you have in store for us.
Be with us in our joy and our sorrow.
Help us to build Shanti-Bhavan into a haven of Peace and let this peace touch the lives of all we meet.
We salute the divine in each other, Namaste.
Happy Onam!
Namaste!
Before I tell you a bit about my week, I must tell you the great news: The world became a better place on Friday, October 12th at 10:45 am. My niece and soon to be goddaughter, Paulina, has opened her eyes and met her beautiful family who has been anxiously awaiting her arrival for all of nine months. I cannot wait to meet her =). And I cannot wait to hug Mauricio, Veronica and Mauricio Andres congratulating them for their beautiful little present =).
On this side of the world, after my very exciting weekend in Northern India, I expected my week at Shanti-Bhavan to be less than amusing. I must say though the kids have enough energy and imagination to keep my mind completely occupied. This week, I taught some of the kids how play kickball, my personal favorite P.E. game. We learned about line graphs and bar graphs in math, we read and wrote tall tales, we dissected a hibiscus flower, and most importantly, in dance class :) we moved to some SALSA!
The school also celebrated the Onam festival, which is a very large and important harvest festival in the Indian state of Kerala. The most impressive part of the Onam celebration is the grand feast called Onasadya. It’s supposed to be a nine course meal served on banana leaves in which people sit on a mat laid on the floor to have the meal. Although we didn’t sit on the floor and we didn’t have the nine courses, we did eat many different concoctions typical of Kerala and specific to this festival. Some things included, papaya chutney with these crispy wheat-tortilla looking things; another plate was off course rice but this time with a yogurt, onion, and lime sauce that was excellent. At the morning assembly they explained that according to a popular legend, the festival is celebrated to welcome King Mahabali, whose spirit is said to visit Kerala at the time of Onam.
This weekend we volunteers decided to enjoy some civilization and came to Bangalore. I was blessed with good luck…instead of spending the money I don’t have in a budget hotel, I am staying with my new friend Suparna, at her aunt’s place. She is of Indian background and has relatives all over India =) I don’t know how these things happen to me, Karma? The lady we are staying with is really nice and she has two kids, a 10 year old and a 13 year old. Normally, I’d say: “Oh GREAT kids!” But lets just say that at this point, Saturday means, “Quick, get away from any human being under the age 20, QUICKLY!” I’m sure that’s just my tired-self talking. By Sunday night I’ll be excited to get back to Shanti-Bhavan, I miss those kids after a couple days of rest.
To get here we took the Balinganapalli bus to Hosur and then another bus to Bangalore. YAY, local buses! Again, a bumpy, yet spellbinding experience, and this time the only hazardous part was when we had to jump off the bus while it was still moving at about 20 km per hour, yeah… Although the schedule reads the bus comes at any time between 3:45 and 4:15, they at least TRY to keep on schedule by not slamming the breaks at the bus stop, haha.
In Bangalore, we hope to buy some necessities, eat some animals (that sounds pretty awful, but indeed true), and drink a nice cold beer, which I hope doesn’t knock me out considering that the last time I had a drop of alcohol was a month and a half ago.
Before I tell you a bit about my week, I must tell you the great news: The world became a better place on Friday, October 12th at 10:45 am. My niece and soon to be goddaughter, Paulina, has opened her eyes and met her beautiful family who has been anxiously awaiting her arrival for all of nine months. I cannot wait to meet her =). And I cannot wait to hug Mauricio, Veronica and Mauricio Andres congratulating them for their beautiful little present =).
On this side of the world, after my very exciting weekend in Northern India, I expected my week at Shanti-Bhavan to be less than amusing. I must say though the kids have enough energy and imagination to keep my mind completely occupied. This week, I taught some of the kids how play kickball, my personal favorite P.E. game. We learned about line graphs and bar graphs in math, we read and wrote tall tales, we dissected a hibiscus flower, and most importantly, in dance class :) we moved to some SALSA!
The school also celebrated the Onam festival, which is a very large and important harvest festival in the Indian state of Kerala. The most impressive part of the Onam celebration is the grand feast called Onasadya. It’s supposed to be a nine course meal served on banana leaves in which people sit on a mat laid on the floor to have the meal. Although we didn’t sit on the floor and we didn’t have the nine courses, we did eat many different concoctions typical of Kerala and specific to this festival. Some things included, papaya chutney with these crispy wheat-tortilla looking things; another plate was off course rice but this time with a yogurt, onion, and lime sauce that was excellent. At the morning assembly they explained that according to a popular legend, the festival is celebrated to welcome King Mahabali, whose spirit is said to visit Kerala at the time of Onam.
This weekend we volunteers decided to enjoy some civilization and came to Bangalore. I was blessed with good luck…instead of spending the money I don’t have in a budget hotel, I am staying with my new friend Suparna, at her aunt’s place. She is of Indian background and has relatives all over India =) I don’t know how these things happen to me, Karma? The lady we are staying with is really nice and she has two kids, a 10 year old and a 13 year old. Normally, I’d say: “Oh GREAT kids!” But lets just say that at this point, Saturday means, “Quick, get away from any human being under the age 20, QUICKLY!” I’m sure that’s just my tired-self talking. By Sunday night I’ll be excited to get back to Shanti-Bhavan, I miss those kids after a couple days of rest.
To get here we took the Balinganapalli bus to Hosur and then another bus to Bangalore. YAY, local buses! Again, a bumpy, yet spellbinding experience, and this time the only hazardous part was when we had to jump off the bus while it was still moving at about 20 km per hour, yeah… Although the schedule reads the bus comes at any time between 3:45 and 4:15, they at least TRY to keep on schedule by not slamming the breaks at the bus stop, haha.
In Bangalore, we hope to buy some necessities, eat some animals (that sounds pretty awful, but indeed true), and drink a nice cold beer, which I hope doesn’t knock me out considering that the last time I had a drop of alcohol was a month and a half ago.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Perfection
So about the most awe-inspiring hours of my life…after the bumpy jeep ride we got dropped off at the Hennur road-Ring road junction, next to a nice cow who was mooing as if there was a tornado coming (btw, cow moos here in India are quite sophisticated, they hold the note for longer and seem to have the vibrato technique in the bag ;); it’s actually really annoying), but at least it didn’t take a deposit. We then took an hour bus ride to the Bangalore international airport, then a 2 and half hour flight to New Delhi, then a 5 hour car ride to Agra, arriving at our budget hotel, the Taj Plaza, at 2 am where we napped for 3 hours to then wake up, put our new saris on and walk to the Taj Majal to witness it at its best, sunrise.
You’d think that two females, easily identifiable even in a sea of Indian people (again a crazy ratio of like 8 men to 1 woman), and both kind of oozy looking, with huge grins of anticipation on their face would not be safe taking that 14 hour excursion in the somewheres and nowheres of India; but we made it and we actually had a blast on the way.
We wrapped our saris as best as possible, pretending to know how to do it after a 5-minute training session from Suparna (the awesome volunteer from Boston, of Indian background) before we left. We stepped outside into the revitalizing, crisp breeze of dawn and took a short 10-minute walk to the Taj Majal. The hotel, although unrefined to say the least, had a perfect location, just 500 meters from the East gate, which is the least crowded gate. The walk was quite amusing in itself. We certainly got many stares from Indian people on the street, none of which seemed vindictive but perhaps baffled. After all, here were a short, fair skinned girl and a tall philippino girl wearing saris probably very erroneously draped walking down the street in Agra, India. We felt a bit odd but we chose to overlook the awkwardness, we wanted our picture in front of the Taj wearing the very beautiful, traditional Indian dress. Then a certain someone brushed away all the discomfort, “OH, HELLO Mr. Elephant, in the middle of a street”! Haha, yeah, I couldn’t believe it, he was just chilling. What seemed even more peculiar was that he was surrounded by a flock of about 10 men as if they all owned the poor thing or were at least trying to claim it. Tangent: that is a usual sight in India, seeing way too many people doing work or engaging in a pass time that would require at the most four hands. Apparently, it’s the “gainful employment brings prosperity” idea, which is obviously true in many ways, but kind of pointless if your idea is to employ 10 people in the place of 2 and pay them cents; that’s plain inefficiency. Anyways, back to the elephant, it was amazing! When I tilted my head all the way back to see how tall it was, I noticed a cushion on his back with a small metal frame around it, I thought: “Thank you Lord, I get to ride an elephant”! I didn’t do it right then because we would miss the beautifully sparkling marble of the Taj with a salmon colored tint from the rising sun.
We bought our ticket and proceeded to the security checkpoint, which as in Indian airports are divided between men and women. I stepped passed a little curtain where a woman checked to see if I had any guns or dangerous tools somewhere hidden in my bulkily wrapped sari. She was totally chuckling at the way I had wrapped it, so I asked her: “Does this look right?” She cracked up and said: “NO”! I laughed too as she nodded her head asking me to get closer, she basically un-wrapped the entire thing and re-wrapped it for me; it was really funny.
Then finally, we entered into the first area of the premises where there stands a red sand stone edifice built as the main entrance gate. On top of this gate are 22 small domes, which represent the years it took to build the Taj Majal. It is astonishing in itself but in no way does it prepare one for the unexplainable beauty that lies behind it. We walked towards the gate and there it was, perfectly framed by a Persian styled arch, the most remarkable creation of mankind. I was speechless, I was so astounded, I think my heart stopped for a millisecond and I’m not kidding.
Reliable information obtained through our very nice tour guide: the Taj Majal, aptly called “the dream in marble”, was built in 1631. The Royal Emperor Sahjahan built it in loving memory of the empress, Arjumand Bano Begum. When she gave birth to their fourteenth child, she fell seriously ill and it is said that at the time of her death, as a last wish, she asked of the Emperor that he build the most beautiful and incomparable monument over her grave as a token of their undying love. The Emperor announced a memorial would be built for his dear wife and asked that all the famous architects of the world would present to him their designs. The design of Ustad Isa Afandi of Turkey was chosen. So, although one could say that the architecture of this magnificent monument is Persian, its soul is Indian.
The entire building is inlayed with precious stones and black marble. It has Quranic inscriptions in black marble on all the walls and it has incredibly elaborate designs cut out from ruby, safire, emerald, and other precious stones, and inlayed piece by piece into the white marble. Inside lie the tombs of the Emperor and his wife, which are also decorated in the same style. In front of the Taj there is a beautiful, long garden with a low rectangular fountain running from the main gate all the way to the steps of the Taj. Behind it runs the river Jamuna and off to the left side, in the distance, you can see the Agra Fort.
There are no words to describe the remarkable beauty of this place. The Taj Majal is perfect.
It took us about two hours to visit the Taj and to be able to say goodbye to its magnificence once the tour was done. We eventually walked back to the hotel in the hopes of bumping into Mr. elephant again. Although we couldn’t find him at first because he had decided to go chill somewhere else, we finally saw him a few blocks past our hotel. Dream number two: for all of five dollars I took a sweet ride on Mr. Elephant. As I sat on top of it, feeling him breath under me, and seeing the Taj Majal in the distance (since I was at a significant distance from the ground, about 12 feet), I gave thanks to my friend Jesus for blessing me with these opportunities that gave me such strong feelings of fascination.
We then visited the Agra Fort on the other side of the river, which is also an amazing site. I won’t get into the history of it because you could google it if you care to know but anyways, after seeing the architecture in this amazing city, I trust that it is indeed the most beautiful architecture I have ever seen.
Before heading back to Delhi we had a late lunch at a restaurant called Shivaka to enjoy only the most amazing chicken dish I have ever tasted. Explanation: In Hosur every weekend we eat ‘panner masala’, which is this orange concoction with cubes of cheese in it and a very think sauce of tomato and spices. And we accompany that with the famous ‘chicken 65’ which is this clay-oven baked chicken, dipped in some sort of spice mix; they are both very good. Anyways, this dish that we had at Shivaka was as if the paneer masala and the chicken 65 had a baby…it was delicious. Off course my stomach ended up hurting again because the dish had an intense flavor but luckily it was nothing too bad and it was well worth it.
The ride back to Delhi was really long and unfortunately when we got there the sun had almost set. We did however get a chance to walk around Connought Place, which is a really nice area of Delhi, where there are tall glass buildings, many restaurants, hotels, stores and a really nice park in the middle of the circle. It is a roaring city, much cleaner than any other place I’ve seen in India, and HUGE, which seems obvious since there are 60 million or so people that live there.
We slept in Delhi Saturday night and early Sunday morning Francesca and I said our goodbyes. She took off to the train station to go to Rishikesh where she will stay at an Ashram for a few days and I went off to the airport to fly back to my dear Shanti-Bhavan. It was a very short weekend packed with exhilaration and one hopeful “until soon”; an unforgettable couple of days that I will always be grateful for.
Much love.
You’d think that two females, easily identifiable even in a sea of Indian people (again a crazy ratio of like 8 men to 1 woman), and both kind of oozy looking, with huge grins of anticipation on their face would not be safe taking that 14 hour excursion in the somewheres and nowheres of India; but we made it and we actually had a blast on the way.
We wrapped our saris as best as possible, pretending to know how to do it after a 5-minute training session from Suparna (the awesome volunteer from Boston, of Indian background) before we left. We stepped outside into the revitalizing, crisp breeze of dawn and took a short 10-minute walk to the Taj Majal. The hotel, although unrefined to say the least, had a perfect location, just 500 meters from the East gate, which is the least crowded gate. The walk was quite amusing in itself. We certainly got many stares from Indian people on the street, none of which seemed vindictive but perhaps baffled. After all, here were a short, fair skinned girl and a tall philippino girl wearing saris probably very erroneously draped walking down the street in Agra, India. We felt a bit odd but we chose to overlook the awkwardness, we wanted our picture in front of the Taj wearing the very beautiful, traditional Indian dress. Then a certain someone brushed away all the discomfort, “OH, HELLO Mr. Elephant, in the middle of a street”! Haha, yeah, I couldn’t believe it, he was just chilling. What seemed even more peculiar was that he was surrounded by a flock of about 10 men as if they all owned the poor thing or were at least trying to claim it. Tangent: that is a usual sight in India, seeing way too many people doing work or engaging in a pass time that would require at the most four hands. Apparently, it’s the “gainful employment brings prosperity” idea, which is obviously true in many ways, but kind of pointless if your idea is to employ 10 people in the place of 2 and pay them cents; that’s plain inefficiency. Anyways, back to the elephant, it was amazing! When I tilted my head all the way back to see how tall it was, I noticed a cushion on his back with a small metal frame around it, I thought: “Thank you Lord, I get to ride an elephant”! I didn’t do it right then because we would miss the beautifully sparkling marble of the Taj with a salmon colored tint from the rising sun.
We bought our ticket and proceeded to the security checkpoint, which as in Indian airports are divided between men and women. I stepped passed a little curtain where a woman checked to see if I had any guns or dangerous tools somewhere hidden in my bulkily wrapped sari. She was totally chuckling at the way I had wrapped it, so I asked her: “Does this look right?” She cracked up and said: “NO”! I laughed too as she nodded her head asking me to get closer, she basically un-wrapped the entire thing and re-wrapped it for me; it was really funny.
Then finally, we entered into the first area of the premises where there stands a red sand stone edifice built as the main entrance gate. On top of this gate are 22 small domes, which represent the years it took to build the Taj Majal. It is astonishing in itself but in no way does it prepare one for the unexplainable beauty that lies behind it. We walked towards the gate and there it was, perfectly framed by a Persian styled arch, the most remarkable creation of mankind. I was speechless, I was so astounded, I think my heart stopped for a millisecond and I’m not kidding.
Reliable information obtained through our very nice tour guide: the Taj Majal, aptly called “the dream in marble”, was built in 1631. The Royal Emperor Sahjahan built it in loving memory of the empress, Arjumand Bano Begum. When she gave birth to their fourteenth child, she fell seriously ill and it is said that at the time of her death, as a last wish, she asked of the Emperor that he build the most beautiful and incomparable monument over her grave as a token of their undying love. The Emperor announced a memorial would be built for his dear wife and asked that all the famous architects of the world would present to him their designs. The design of Ustad Isa Afandi of Turkey was chosen. So, although one could say that the architecture of this magnificent monument is Persian, its soul is Indian.
The entire building is inlayed with precious stones and black marble. It has Quranic inscriptions in black marble on all the walls and it has incredibly elaborate designs cut out from ruby, safire, emerald, and other precious stones, and inlayed piece by piece into the white marble. Inside lie the tombs of the Emperor and his wife, which are also decorated in the same style. In front of the Taj there is a beautiful, long garden with a low rectangular fountain running from the main gate all the way to the steps of the Taj. Behind it runs the river Jamuna and off to the left side, in the distance, you can see the Agra Fort.
There are no words to describe the remarkable beauty of this place. The Taj Majal is perfect.
It took us about two hours to visit the Taj and to be able to say goodbye to its magnificence once the tour was done. We eventually walked back to the hotel in the hopes of bumping into Mr. elephant again. Although we couldn’t find him at first because he had decided to go chill somewhere else, we finally saw him a few blocks past our hotel. Dream number two: for all of five dollars I took a sweet ride on Mr. Elephant. As I sat on top of it, feeling him breath under me, and seeing the Taj Majal in the distance (since I was at a significant distance from the ground, about 12 feet), I gave thanks to my friend Jesus for blessing me with these opportunities that gave me such strong feelings of fascination.
We then visited the Agra Fort on the other side of the river, which is also an amazing site. I won’t get into the history of it because you could google it if you care to know but anyways, after seeing the architecture in this amazing city, I trust that it is indeed the most beautiful architecture I have ever seen.
Before heading back to Delhi we had a late lunch at a restaurant called Shivaka to enjoy only the most amazing chicken dish I have ever tasted. Explanation: In Hosur every weekend we eat ‘panner masala’, which is this orange concoction with cubes of cheese in it and a very think sauce of tomato and spices. And we accompany that with the famous ‘chicken 65’ which is this clay-oven baked chicken, dipped in some sort of spice mix; they are both very good. Anyways, this dish that we had at Shivaka was as if the paneer masala and the chicken 65 had a baby…it was delicious. Off course my stomach ended up hurting again because the dish had an intense flavor but luckily it was nothing too bad and it was well worth it.
The ride back to Delhi was really long and unfortunately when we got there the sun had almost set. We did however get a chance to walk around Connought Place, which is a really nice area of Delhi, where there are tall glass buildings, many restaurants, hotels, stores and a really nice park in the middle of the circle. It is a roaring city, much cleaner than any other place I’ve seen in India, and HUGE, which seems obvious since there are 60 million or so people that live there.
We slept in Delhi Saturday night and early Sunday morning Francesca and I said our goodbyes. She took off to the train station to go to Rishikesh where she will stay at an Ashram for a few days and I went off to the airport to fly back to my dear Shanti-Bhavan. It was a very short weekend packed with exhilaration and one hopeful “until soon”; an unforgettable couple of days that I will always be grateful for.
Much love.
Banana Peals
Hello!
Before I begin telling you about the most awe-inspiring hours of my life, I’d like to give you a brief synopsis of last week. The “teacher’s day presentation” was great! For an entire hour and a half the “stage” was jam packed with jazz, swing, Indian jokes, hip-hop, tradition Indian Dance, theatre, piano compositions…creativity, beauty and above all joyous smiles.
There were a few tears at the end when Francesca said her goodbyes but only because in just 5 weeks she established a very genuine and beautiful relationship with everyone at Shanti-Bhavan. Her innate way of making everyone smile with her bumpy, excited walk, her contagious smile, and her powerful, heartening voice is something Shanti-Bhavan treasured especially right now during the difficult situation they are trying to overcome. I feel so blessed that I was able to share this experience with someone as special as her. I only knew her on the surface before India, now I consider her a friend for life and someone I can always count on for encouragement or for those amazing, long conversations about anything; she is the best person to speak with about the deep matters of life and the world but also someone with whom talks about a whole lot of nothing can be entirely enjoyable. I will miss her dearly.
Back to the events of the week before I fall to tears, I was able to perform my dance and I danced my heart out; I had such a wonderful time. I say ‘able’, because, it was bound to happen, I fell sick last week. Stomach. Yep, excruciating stomach pains, couldn’t keep any food in my body, didn’t eat for a couple days. I think it is often our faults when we get sick…I bought bananas in Hosur last Sunday and I believe I might have eaten one whose peal was cracked or whose tip was open. I bought them off a vendor who was sitting on the curb of a street, sprawled out on a dirty matt, and who by the way tried to rip me off 10 rupees (luckily, after a month in India, I know my way around rip offs, knock on wood). Anyways, the stomach infection was awful and Friday morning I felt so sick that I had decided not to dance; I didn’t want to get worst before my flight to New Delhi. Well, you know me, as soon as I started playing the music and saw all my cute kids dancing up storms, I put on my jazz shoes and said: “off course, I’m dancing.”
Funny story: Before the presentation, when I had set up all the music equipment, I sat on the floor with this grin of pain on my face as I held my stomach. Debbie, native of a town near Bangalore and the first grade teacher, comes up to me and asks if I’m feeling any better. “No, I’m feeling worst and I can’t keep anything in”. She proceeds to ask me “which way”? And with an embarrassed look, I say, both. She says (with an awesome, thick Indian accent): “No problem, is just your intestine not in good spot, come here, jump off these steps, all together, all together, your intestine will jump back to place”. Haha, I was like oh goodness this is nuts, what the heck does that mean. Then she gave me some axe oil to rub on my belly. I did both because I had nothing to loose and I’m not kidding, I felt better 20 minutes later, haha, oh the natural ways of curing, what ingenuity. After jumping off steps, rubbing axe oil and taking about a dozen pills, my stomach is fine now and, yes I know, I’ll check the banana peal before I eat another banana.
Anyhow, straight after the presentation, Francesca gave a hug to each of the kids, hmm yeah more than 200 hugs, and then at around noon we both quickly got into the bumpy Shanti-Bhavan jeep to embark in a LONG journey with rising excitement about reaching a “wonder of the world”.
Before I begin telling you about the most awe-inspiring hours of my life, I’d like to give you a brief synopsis of last week. The “teacher’s day presentation” was great! For an entire hour and a half the “stage” was jam packed with jazz, swing, Indian jokes, hip-hop, tradition Indian Dance, theatre, piano compositions…creativity, beauty and above all joyous smiles.
There were a few tears at the end when Francesca said her goodbyes but only because in just 5 weeks she established a very genuine and beautiful relationship with everyone at Shanti-Bhavan. Her innate way of making everyone smile with her bumpy, excited walk, her contagious smile, and her powerful, heartening voice is something Shanti-Bhavan treasured especially right now during the difficult situation they are trying to overcome. I feel so blessed that I was able to share this experience with someone as special as her. I only knew her on the surface before India, now I consider her a friend for life and someone I can always count on for encouragement or for those amazing, long conversations about anything; she is the best person to speak with about the deep matters of life and the world but also someone with whom talks about a whole lot of nothing can be entirely enjoyable. I will miss her dearly.
Back to the events of the week before I fall to tears, I was able to perform my dance and I danced my heart out; I had such a wonderful time. I say ‘able’, because, it was bound to happen, I fell sick last week. Stomach. Yep, excruciating stomach pains, couldn’t keep any food in my body, didn’t eat for a couple days. I think it is often our faults when we get sick…I bought bananas in Hosur last Sunday and I believe I might have eaten one whose peal was cracked or whose tip was open. I bought them off a vendor who was sitting on the curb of a street, sprawled out on a dirty matt, and who by the way tried to rip me off 10 rupees (luckily, after a month in India, I know my way around rip offs, knock on wood). Anyways, the stomach infection was awful and Friday morning I felt so sick that I had decided not to dance; I didn’t want to get worst before my flight to New Delhi. Well, you know me, as soon as I started playing the music and saw all my cute kids dancing up storms, I put on my jazz shoes and said: “off course, I’m dancing.”
Funny story: Before the presentation, when I had set up all the music equipment, I sat on the floor with this grin of pain on my face as I held my stomach. Debbie, native of a town near Bangalore and the first grade teacher, comes up to me and asks if I’m feeling any better. “No, I’m feeling worst and I can’t keep anything in”. She proceeds to ask me “which way”? And with an embarrassed look, I say, both. She says (with an awesome, thick Indian accent): “No problem, is just your intestine not in good spot, come here, jump off these steps, all together, all together, your intestine will jump back to place”. Haha, I was like oh goodness this is nuts, what the heck does that mean. Then she gave me some axe oil to rub on my belly. I did both because I had nothing to loose and I’m not kidding, I felt better 20 minutes later, haha, oh the natural ways of curing, what ingenuity. After jumping off steps, rubbing axe oil and taking about a dozen pills, my stomach is fine now and, yes I know, I’ll check the banana peal before I eat another banana.
Anyhow, straight after the presentation, Francesca gave a hug to each of the kids, hmm yeah more than 200 hugs, and then at around noon we both quickly got into the bumpy Shanti-Bhavan jeep to embark in a LONG journey with rising excitement about reaching a “wonder of the world”.
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